EXPLORATION OF THE VICTORIA NYANZA.
Though this royal hospitality was very grateful after his long toils,
and though intercourse with a white man in that remote land was
refreshing, and though he longed to rest, yet Stanley felt he must be
about his work. To finish this would require much time, and he had now
been long absent from his men, who might prove intractable while he was
away, and he was anxious to get back, for the exploration of this lake
was only the beginning of what he proposed to do.
With two canoes belonging to his friend, King Mtesa, accompanying him as
an escort until the grand admiral of his sable majesty, Magassa, who,
with thirty canoes, had been detached for his service, should overtake
him, he set sail from the river, and camped that night on a smooth,
sandy beach, at a point called Kagya. The natives who lived there
received them in a friendly, and for African negroes, hospitable manner.
Stanley took this as a good augury of the reception he should meet with
along the coast of Usongora, which he designed to explore.
In the morning he again set sail, and sweeping leisurely along, came in
the afternoon to the village of Makongo. As the Lady Alice approached
the shore, he saw a crowd of naked savages squatted on the ground,
sucking the everlasting pombe, or beer, through a straw, just as white
men suck punch or a sherry cobbler. As the boat reached the shore, the
chief, with the vacant stare of a drunkard, arose and reeled toward him
and welcomed him in a friendly, though maudlin manner. The natives also
appeared good-natured and quite content with their arrival. After they
had satisfied their curiosity by examining him and his boat, they went
away, leaving him to arrange his camp for the night and prepare his
supper.
The sun went down in glory beyond the purple mountains--a slight ripple
dimpled the surface of the lake, while slender columns of smoke ascended
here and there along the shore from the huts of the natives; and all was
calm and peaceful, though wild and lonely. As night came down, and the
stars, one by one, came out in the tropical sky, Stanley and his
companions stretched themselves on their mats, and, unsuspicious of
danger, fell asleep. About 10 o'clock he was suddenly awakened by a loud
and hurried beating of drums, with ever and anon a chorus of shrieks and
yells that rung through the clear, still air with a distinctness and
sharpness that made the blood shiver. Stanley immediately aroused his
men, and they listened, wondering what it foreboded. The lake was still
below, and the heavens calm and serene above, but all around it seemed
as if demons of the infernal regions were out on their orgies. Stanley
thought it was the forerunner of an attack on the camp, but Mtesa's men,
the Waganda, told him that the drumming and yelling were the wild
welcome of the natives to a stranger. He doubted it, for he had seen too
many savage tribes, and knew their customs too well to believe this
blood-curdling, discordant din was a welcome to him.
It is strange that he did not at once quietly launch his boat and lie
off the rest of the night a little way from the shore till morning, and
see what it all meant. It would seem that ordinary prudence would have
prompted this. His neglect to do so, very nearly cost him his life, and
ended there his explorations. For some reason or other, which he does
not give, he determined to remain where he was, contenting himself with
the precaution of placing his weapons close beside him, and directing
his eleven men to load their guns and put them under their mats. He lay
down again, but not to sleep, for all night long the furious beat of
drums and unearthly yells rang out over the lake keeping him not only
awake, but anxious.
At daybreak he arose, and as he stepped out of his tent, he started as
if he had seen an apparition, for in the gray light of morning, he saw
five hundred naked, motionless forms, with bows, shields and spears,
standing in a semicircle around him, and completely cutting him off
from his boat and the lake. It was a fearful moment, and to his inquiry
what it meant, no answer was given. There was no shouting or yelling,
none of the frantic gesticulations so common to the African savage. On
the contrary, they wore a calm and composed, though stern and determined
aspect. Shoulder to shoulder like a regiment of soldiers they stood, the
forest of spears above them glittering in the early light. There was
nothing to be done--Stanley was entrapped, and with the first attempt to
escape or seize his rifle would be transfixed by a hundred spears. It
was too late to repent the folly of not heeding the warning of the night
before, and so he calmly stood and faced the crowd of stern, malignant
faces. For some minutes this solitary white man met glance for glance,
when the drunken chief of the day before stalked into the semicircle,
and with a stick which he held in his hand forced back the savages by
flourishing it in their faces. He then advanced, and striking the boat a
furious blow, shouted "be off," and to facilitate matters, took hold and
helped launch it. Stanley was only too glad to obey him, and his heart
bounded within him as he felt the keel gliding into deep water, and soon
a hundred rods were between him and the savages that lined the shore.
The Waganda were still on the beach, and Stanley prepared to sweep it
with a murderous fire the moment they were attacked. So dense was the
crowd of natives, that had he fired at that close range, he would have
mowed them down with fearful slaughter. But although there was much loud
wrangling and altercation, they were, at length, allowed to embark, and
followed him as he sailed away toward the isle of Musua. He had learned
a lesson that he did not soon forget.
The whole had been a strange proceeding, and why he was not killed, when
so completely in their power, can be accounted for only on the ground
that they were in Mtesa's dominions, and feared he would take terrible
revenge for the murder. Later in the day this drunken chief came to
visit him on the island, and demanded why he had come and what he
wanted. Being told, he went away, and sent three branches of bananas,
and left him and his party to their fate. They rested here quietly till
afternoon, when they saw Magassa's fleet coming slowly down the lake,
steering for a neighboring island. The canoes were beached and the men
disembarked and began to prepare their camp for the night. Stanley was
getting impatient at these delays, and thinking he would quicken
Magassa's movements by hastening forward, he set sail for Alice Island,
thirty-five miles distant. The two chiefs, with the escorting canoes,
accompanied him for about a mile and a half, but, getting alarmed at the
aspect of the weather, turned back, shouting, as they did so, that as
soon as it moderated they would follow. Bowling along before a spanking
breeze, the little craft danced gayly over the cresting waves, and when
night came down and darkness fell on the lonely lake, kept steadily on
and, finally, at midnight reached the island, where they luckily struck
upon a sheltered cove and came to anchor. When morning dawned they found
they were almost against the base of a beetling cliff, with overhanging
rocks all around them, dotted with the fires of the natives. These came
down to the shore holding green wisps of grass in their hands as tokens
of friendliness. Stanley and his men were hungry, and now rejoiced in
the prospect of a good breakfast. But these friendly natives, seeing
their need, became so extortionate in their demands that they would not
trade with them, and Stanley determined to steer for Bumbirch Island,
twenty five miles distant, and there obtain food.
The breeze was light and they made slow headway, and it was evidently
going to be a long sail to the island. As the sun went down, huge black
clouds began to roll up the sky, traversed by lightning, while the low
growl of thunder foretold a coming storm. As the clouds rose higher and
higher the lightning became more vivid, and the thunder broke with
startling peals along the water, and soon the rain came down in
torrents, drenching them to the skin. The waves began to rise while
darkness, black as midnight, settled down on the lake. The little craft
tossed wildly on the water, and the prospect before them looked gloomy
enough. Fortunately, about midnight, they came upon Pocoke Island, and
anchored under its lee amid thunder and lightning, and rain, and the
angry roar of the surf on every side. All night long the flashes lit up
the angry scene, while the heavy, tropical thunder shook the bosom of
the lake. The haven they had reached was so poor a protection that all
hands were kept bailing, to prevent the overstrained boat from
foundering at her anchor.
We have a very faint idea in our northern latitudes of what a
thunderstorm is in the tropics, and the slight affair that Stanley made
of it is one of those apparently insignificant, and yet most striking
illustrations of his character. Storms on the water--starvation on
land--deadly perils of all kinds are spoken of by him as one would speak
of the ordinary incidents of travel. He has no time, and apparently no
taste, for sensational writing; or perhaps it would be nearer the truth
to say--in his cool courage, calm self-reliance and apparent contempt of
death he does not see the dramatic side of the scenes in which he
performs so important a part. The most tragic events--the most perilous
crises are treated by him as ordinary events. An escape so narrow that
one's heart stops beating as he contemplates it, he narrates with as
much coolness and apparent indifference as he would his deliverance
from a disagreeable companion.
In the morning, Stanley, as he looked around him and saw the surf
breaking on every side, ordered the anchor up and the sail hoisted, for
this was too dangerous a place for the Lady Alice. The thunder-storm had
passed, and a stiff northeast breeze had sprung up, before which he
bowled swiftly along, and in three hours reached the mouth of a quiet
cove near the village of Kajuri, at the southeastern extremity of
Bumbirch Island. After the storm and peril of the last forty-eight
hours, it was a welcome sight that greeted them. The green slopes of
this gem set in the sparkling waters were laden with fruits and covered
with cattle. Groves of bananas, herds of cattle lazily feeding, and
flocks of goats promised an abundance of food; and Stanley and his men,
as they drew near the lovely, inviting shore, revelled in anticipation
of the rest and good cheer awaiting them. Filled with the most peaceful
intentions themselves--their hearts made glad at the sight of the
bountiful provisions before them--they did not dream of any hostility,
when suddenly they heard a wild, shrill war-cry from the plateau above
the huts of the village near the shore, on which were gathered a crowd
of excited men. Stanley was surprised at this unexpected hostile
demonstration, and halted just as the boat was about to ground, to
ascertain what it meant. The savages in the meantime were rushing
wildly toward the shore in front of where the boat lay rocking on the
water. As they approached, they suddenly changed their warlike attitude,
and, ceasing their loud yells, assumed a friendly manner, and invited
them to land in tones and gestures so kind and affable that Stanley's
first suspicions were at once disarmed, and he ordered the rowers to
send the boat ashore. But the moment the keel grated on the pebbly
beach, all this friendliness of manner changed, and the naked savages
rushed into the water, and, seizing the boat, lifted it up bodily and,
with all on board, carried it high and dry on the bank.
[Illustration: A TREACHEROUS ASSAULT.]
Stanley was terribly aroused at this sudden treachery, and reckless of
consequences, determined to avenge it, and twice he raised his revolver
to shoot down the audacious wretches, but his crew begged him to desist,
declaring earnestly that these people were friends, and that if he would
wait a few minutes, he would see that all was right. He accordingly sat
down in the stern sheets and waited to see the end. In the meantime, the
savages came leaping from the hill-sides, tossing their naked limbs in
the air, and uttering loud yells, till a wild, frantic multitude
completely surrounded the boat in which Stanley still sat unmoved and
calm. The wretches seemed crazed with passion, and poised their spears
as if about to strike him, and drew their arrows to the head, one
discharge of which would have riddled Stanley, struck the boat by his
side with their spear handles, gnashed their teeth, foamed at the mouth,
and yelled till their eyes seemed bursting from their sockets. Stanley,
however, never moved nor uttered a word. His life did not seem worth a
thought in that frenzied, demoniacal crowd. But resistance and
expostulation were alike useless, and he could do nothing but wait the
final assault, and then sell his life dearly as possible.
For some strange, unaccountable reason, their chief, Thekha, kept them
from the last act of violence, and at last so quieted them that Stanley
calmly asked him how much he demanded to let him go. The most curious
part of this whole affair is, that the chief condescended to enter into
negotiations with Stanley. Everything the latter had was in the boat,
and he had only to give the word, and in five minutes all was his. But
instead of doing this, he struck up a bargain with Stanley, and agreed
to let him off for four cloths and ten necklaces of large beads. Stanley
at once took them from his packages and gave them to him. But no sooner
had he received them, than he gave a quick order to his men to seize the
oars of the boat. In a twinkling, before Stanley had time to think what
they were about, the oars were caught up and carried away. The natives
seeing through the treacherous trick, enjoyed it thoroughly, and their
loud laughing jeers roused all the devil in Stanley's nature, but he
still said nothing. Having got possession of the oars, they thought he
was helpless as a tortoise on his back, and became quiet, seemingly
enjoying the white man's helplessness. Having no fear of his escape,
they at noon leisurely walked to their huts to get their noonday meal,
and to discuss what the next move should be. Stanley says he was not
idle, he wished to impose on the savages by his indifferent manner, but
he was all the while planning how to escape and the best mode of meeting
the attack when it came.
While the savages were at their dinner, a negress came near them and
told them to eat honey with Thekha, as it was the only way to save their
lives, for he had determined to kill them and take everything they had.
Stanley permitted his coxswain to go to Thekha and make the proposition
to eat honey. The wily chief told him to be at ease, no harm was
intended them and next day he would eat honey with them. The coxswain
returned delighted, and reported the good news. But Stanley checked the
confidence of the men, and told them that nothing but their own wit and
courage could save their lives. This, he said, was all a trick, the next
move would be to seize their guns as they had the oars, when they would
be helpless, and by no means to leave the boat, but be prepared to act
at any moment when he should give the word. The men saw at once the
force of Stanley's suspicions, and kept close by him.
Thus nearly three long hours passed away, neither he nor his crew doing
or attempting to do anything. But about three o'clock, the war-drums
began again their horrid din, and soon the loping, naked savages were
seen running from every quarter, and in half an hour five hundred
warriors had gathered around the chief within thirty paces of the boat.
He was sitting down, and when the warriors were all assembled, he made
them an address. As soon as he had finished, about fifty of them dashed
up to Stanley's men, and seizing his drum, bore it back in triumph. From
some cause or other, this last and apparently most harmless act of all
aroused Stanley's suspicions to a point that made him act promptly and
decisively.
Perhaps it was their scornful, insulting language as they walked off,
bidding him get his guns ready, as they were coming back soon to cut his
throat. At all events, the moment he saw them approach the chief with
the drum, he shouted to his men to push the boat into the water. The
eleven men sprang to its sides, and lifting it as if it had been a toy,
carried it, with Stanley in it, to the water's edge and shot it, with
one desperate effort, far out into the lake and beyond their depth, and
where they had to swim for it. Quickly as it was done, the savages
instantly detected the movement, and before the boat had lost its
headway, were crowding the very edge of the water, to which they had
rushed like a whirlwind, shouting and yelling like madmen. Seizing his
elephant rifle, Stanley sent two large conical balls into the dense mass
with frightful effect. Then pulling one of the men in the boat, and
bidding him help the others in, he seized his double-barreled gun,
loaded with buck-shot, and fired right and left into the close-packed,
naked crowd. It was like firing with small shot into a flock of pigeons,
and a clean swath was cut through the naked mass, which was so stunned
at the horrible effect, that they ran back up the slope without hurling
a spear or shooting an arrow.
With the oars gone, the great struggle would be to get out into the open
lake, where they could hoist sail; for, this once accomplished, they
could bid defiance to their enemies. Stanley knew the first move of the
savages would be to man their canoes, which lined the shore, and
surround his helpless vessel and overwhelm him. He therefore watched the
first movement to launch a canoe, and as soon as a desperate-looking
savage made the attempt, he dropped him with a bullet through his body.
A second, following his example, fell on the beach, when they paused at
the certain death that seemed to await the man who dared to touch a
boat. Just then Stanley caught sight of the sub-chief, who commanded the
party that took the drum, and taking a cool, deliberate aim at him with
his elephant rifle, he sent one of its great conical balls tearing
through his body, killing at the same time his wife and infant, behind
him. This terrified them, for there seemed something supernatural about
this deadly work, and they ceased their efforts to launch the boats, and
hastened to get out of the reach of such fatal firing. In the meantime,
the men were slowly working the boat toward the mouth of the cove. But,
just as they were feeling safe, Stanley saw two canoes, loaded heavily
with warriors, push out of a little bay and pull toward him. Putting two
explosive shells into his elephant rifle, he waited till they came
within the distance where they would be most destructive, and then
commenced firing. He fired rapidly, but being a dead-shot, with great
accuracy, and the shells, as they struck inside the canoes, burst with
terrible effect. Four shots killed five men and sunk both the canoes,
leaving the warriors to swim ashore. This ended the fight, and the
enraged and baffled crowd vented their fury by shouting out, "Go and die
in the Nyanza."
Stanley's rapid deadly firing killed fourteen, and wounded with
buck-shot eight, which, he coolly remarks, "I consider to be very dear
payment for the robbery of eight ash oars and a drum, though barely
equivalent, in our estimation, to the intended massacre of ourselves."
This cool-blooded treachery and narrow escape roused Stanley's whole
nature, and terrible as had been the punishment he had inflicted, he
resolved that he would make it more terrible still before he had done
with them.
During the perils of the next night that followed, he had plenty of time
to nurse his wrath. Having got clear of the land, he hoisted sail, and
favored by a light breeze, by night was eight miles from the treacherous
Bumbireh. A little after dark the breeze died away, and he set the men
to paddling. But, their oars being gone, they made slow headway. At
sunrise they were only twenty miles from the island, but near noon, a
strong breeze springing up from the northwest, they bowled along at the
rate of five miles an hour, and soon saw it sink in the distant horizon.
At sunset they saw an island named Sousa, toward which they steered,
hoping to reach it by midnight and find a safe haven. But about eight
o'clock the breeze began to increase till it rose to a fierce gale, and
the sail had to be taken in.
Being without oars, they could not keep the light boat before the wind,
and she was whirled away by it like a feather, and wallowed amid the
waves that kept increasing, till it seemed impossible to keep much
longer afloat. The men strove desperately with their boards for paddles
to reach the island, and get to the leeward of it, till the storm should
break, but it was of no avail. They were swept by it like a piece of
drift-wood, and the lightning, as it lit up its green sides, seemed to
mock their despair. The terrific crash of the thunder, the roar of the
tempest, and the wild waste of the wrathful water as it was incessantly
lit up by the blinding flashes, made it the most terrific night Stanley
had ever passed in all his wide wanderings. Between the dashing of the
waves over the gunwale and the downfalling deluge of rain, the helpless
boat rapidly filled, and it required constant and rapid bailing to keep
it from going to the bottom.
The imagination cannot conceive the terrors that surrounded that little
boat with its helpless crew on that storm-swept lake during that long,
wild night. Above them, rushed the angry clouds, pierced incessantly by
the lightning; the heavy thunder shook the very heavens, while all
around them were islands and rocks, and a few miles ahead, the main-land
peopled by hostile savages. Yet, amid all their terror, the men worn out
with their long fasting and exhausting labors, would drop asleep, till
awakened by the stern order to bail. The men of Bumbireh had shouted
after them, "go and die in the Nyanza," and they now seemed to be
prophetic words. Stanley remembered them, and he lived to make the
murderous savages remember them, too. At daybreak the tempest broke, and
the waves not having the heavy roll of the ocean, quickly subsided, and
they saw they had drifted eight miles off the isle of Susa, which they
had made such desperate efforts to reach the night before, while other
islands rose in the distance. There was not a morsel of food in the
boat, and it was now forty-eight hours since they had tasted any, yet
the men took to their paddles cheerfully. Soon a gentle breeze set in
from the westward, and hoisting sail, they steered for an unknown
island, which Stanley named Refuge Island. It was small and uninhabited,
but on exploring it, they discovered that the natives had once occupied
and cultivated it. To their great joy, they found green bananas, and a
small fruit resembling cherries, but tasting like dates. Stanley
succeeded, also, in shooting two fat ducks. The men soon stripped these
of their feathers and had them in the pot, with which, and the fruit,
they made what seemed to them in their famished condition, a right royal
repast. The camp was pitched close by the sandy beach, and when night
closed sweetly in on the wanderers, "there were few people in the
world," says Stanley, "blessed God more devoutly than we did." And well
they might, for their double deliverance from the savages on shore and
the tempest on the water, was almost miraculous.
They rested here all the next day recruiting, and then set sail, and
coming to friendly natives, laid in a supply of provisions. While at
anchor, some of the men plucked the poultry they had bought, and they
feasted till they were thoroughly satisfied.
At midnight, a favorable wind rising, they set sail for Usukuma. About
three in the morning they were in the middle of the Speke Gulf, from
which they had started nearly two months before, and bound for their
camp. The wind had died away, and the water lay calm and unruffled
beneath the tropical sky. But this calm was only the prelude to a
fearful storm. Clouds, black as ink, began to roll up the heavens, their
edges corrugated and torn by the contending forces that urged them on,
while out from their foldings the lightning leaped in blinding flashes,
and the thunder, instead of rolling in angry peals, came down in great
crashes as if the very frame-work of nature was rending, and then the
hail, in stones big as filberts, beat down on their uncovered heads. The
waves rose to an astonishing height, and tore like wild horses over the
lake. The boat became unmanageable, and was whirled along at the mercy
of the wind and waves. But the staunch little craft outrode the fury of
the gale, with a buoyancy that surprised Stanley.
Next morning, although almost under the equator, they saw the day dawn
gray, and cheerless, and raw. On taken his observations, Stanley found
that he was only about twenty miles northwest of his camp. The news sent
new life into the crew. They hoisted sail, and, though at first the wind
was unfavorable, yet, as if good luck had come at last, it shifted
astern, and, with a full sail, they steered straight for camp--every
heart bounding with joy.
The men in camp discovered the boat when miles away, and hurrying to the
shore sent up shout after shout, and tossed their arms joyfully in the
air. As the boat drove swiftly on, the shouts were changed to volleys of
musketry and waving of flags, while "the land seemed alive with leaping
forms of glad-hearted men." Rumors of their destruction had reached
camp, and his long absence seemed to confirm them, and they had made up
their minds, that, with their leader lost, they must turn back. As the
boat grated on the pebbly shore, fifty men leaped into the water and
seizing Stanley lifted him bodily out, and, running up the bank, placed
him on their shoulders, and danced around the camp like madmen. They
seemed unable to contain their joy. It showed how strong was the hold
Stanley had on their affections. Stern in enforcing discipline and
relentless in punishing crime, he was always careful of their welfare,
attentive to their wants, just in all his dealings, and generous in his
reward for good behavior and faithful service, and by this course he had
bound these simple children of nature to him with cords of iron.