the lava-beds, which I describe in the following chapter on Mushari.
Sharp undertook to take the live stock and the main caravan round the
southern slope of Mount Goetzen, and to eventually meet me in Mushari.
This involved a waterless tramp of twenty-five miles, unless he could
find the pool of water spoken of by Count Goetzen as existing in a small
crater on the lava-bed between Mount Goetzen and the lake.
On the road he had to pass near the place where he had lost our thirty
sheep and goats, and he determined to recapture them, if possible.
Seeing a large flock being driven off across the plain he gave chase,
followed by two of his boys, while the main caravan halted. After a
sharp dash over the roughest country imaginable, semi-disintegrated lava
and scrubby bush, he succeeded in collecting twenty-five goats, and in
driving them to his camping-place. The natives meanwhile collected in
large numbers and fired volleys of arrows at him, all of which
fortunately missed their mark. When he rejoined the main body of his
caravan he found that two men had been wounded by arrows. An enormous
concourse of natives rapidly gathered on the surrounding hills.
Having pitched his camp and put the place in a position of defence, he
was hailed by a deputation from the chief, who said that he wished to
pay Sharp "hongo." Sharp promptly informed them that the chief must
arrive with wood, water, and thirty-five goats, as compensation for the
loss which we had sustained and the trouble which they had caused us.
All this the chief undertook to do. He was a fine native, standing over
6 ft. After a long delay he returned with three goats, and without wood
or water. So he was promptly bound with his four headmen and placed in
the guard-tent. After much prevarication and some little delay the
goats were produced, and with them a small tusk of ivory; whereupon the
prisoners were released and their hearts made glad by a handsome present
of cloth and beads to show that, now that the account was squared, there
was no ill-feeling.
The following day he had much difficulty in getting his caravan through
the difficult country, and failing to find water, he was compelled to
descend to the shore of Kivu, where a sharp attack of fever delayed him
for some days.
The boys, who had picked up wild rumours of the existence of bad men in
the country to be penetrated, almost mutinied, and Sharp was fortunately
relieved of the necessity of risking a mutiny through pushing on by the
receipt of a note from me to the effect that he must return at once, as
the country was full of cannibals and devastated from end to end.
*CHAPTER XII.*
*MUSHARI AND ITS CANNIBALS.*
After these two unsuccessful attempts to reach Mushari--first, north by
Kahanga's country, and secondly, by the path that runs round the base of
Mount Goetzen--I determined to cut straight across the lava-streams, in
spite of everything that the natives said to dissuade me. Lies, lies,
lies, I was sick to death of them, and resolved to go to Mushari by the
direct route, cost what it might, the behaviour of my pagazi,[#] which
caused my second attempt to fail, making me only the more determined to
show them that their little games were of no use. In vain I sent out to
the villages for guides, none were forthcoming; frightened, as I
afterwards discovered, by my boys, they obstinately assured me there was
no way across; that we should die of thirst, be eaten by lions, and so
forth, _ad nauseam_. I gave out orders that all my boys were to make
sandals, and prepare food and water for two days. In the morning
three-quarters of them hobbled up on sticks, pleading sickness; and when
I finally started, half of them burst into tears and swore that they
were not slaves, to be led into the wilderness to die. When we reached
the edge of the lava-stream, there were no shoes or food or water; but
when I once stepped on to the stones, the whole scene changed. Beads
were produced, natives with sandals for sale brought forth, guides
sprang up in bewildering plenty, and, as I had half suspected, I found
there was a well-used track across. There is one thing to be said for
the Manyema: they play their game right out to the end.
[#] Porters.
We went south-west for four hours across the eastern stream, making
about half a mile an hour; it is like a very broken glacier such as that
which lies under the north-west side of the Aiguille du Dru near
Chamounix, huge blocks of lava piled one upon the other, and sharp as
razors. The length is about twenty miles, and breadth about two in the
narrowest part. Further north it branches off to the east and west, the
western branch mingling with the great western stream about fifteen
miles from the pass between Mount Goetzen and Mount Sharp. The natives
say that the lava came down two years ago, and that great numbers of
elephants were killed; I myself saw the bones of one in our
comparatively short traverse.
Already there are patches of bush several miles in extent where the
stream eddied, stayed by some extra strong clump of trees, and so
wonderful is the tropical growth produced by the combination of damp and
fertile soil, that in another twenty years all obvious trace of the
great eruption will have been erased. The trees on all the higher spurs
which were above the level of the streams were snapped off short by the
wind, and lie in regular rows towards the main centres of disturbance.
The eruption must have been accompanied by considerable seismic waves,
huge rents occurring in the surrounding forests; and very beautiful
these rents are, being already converted by a luxuriant nature into
exotic ferneries. After leaving the lava the path led west into the
bush, and about 4 p.m. we reached a pool of water formed by an old
crater. My inquiry as to the death-rate caused much merriment, and the
evening passed with howls of joy and those unearthly noises which in
Africa pass current for song.
Here we were joined by numbers of natives coming from Mushari with loads
of food. On inquiry I found that they were refugees, having been driven
out by the Baleka or Bareka, a tribe of cannibals from the Congo who had
raided their country. They told me that those who had survived were
living in the forest, and that great numbers were dying every day of
hunger. On the morrow we skirted along the base of the new volcano for
about fourteen miles through the most beautiful glades, coming across
several pools of water. Dead natives lined the path, showing that the
tales of our last night's companions were only too true. Towards
evening we reached the great western stream, and here we met several
natives who were living amongst the stones in the most awful misery,
hardly daring even to make a fire. They said that they had been living
thus for six months. When driven to despair by hunger, they would make
a dash for an armful of half-ripe grain, each time losing some of their
number by the Baleka, who were watching all the paths. I lined their
bellies and warmed their hearts (identical organs, I believe, in the
African and perhaps some others) with beans; and in the morning we
advanced into the dreaded land. All the paths up the hills that led to
the uplands of Mushari were lined with grain and torn skins, relics of
those unfortunates who had been caught; and dried pools of blood, gaunt
skeletons, grinning skulls, and trampled grass told a truly African
tale. On arriving at the top of the ridge a beautiful rolling country
opened out before us, dotted with clusters of grass huts and stately
trees; russet patches of ripening mtama contrasted with the emerald
green of the wild banana, range upon range of purple hills melted into
the nether-world of a tropical horizon. But we were not to enjoy the
scenery long, for distant howls showed that we had been observed,
silhouetted as we were against the sky; and strings of black figures,
brandishing spears and howling at the expected feast, came running down
from a neighbouring hill. I was still uncertain as to the exact state
of affairs. The refugees and the numerous corpses made it obvious that
there was something in the wind, but I imagined that it was merely an
ordinary case of native fractiousness, some intertribal squabble, such
as occurs every day in these remote corners of the Dark Continent, and
that the Baleka and their doings were merely a characteristic effort of
the African imagination. But the diabolical noise made by the onrushing
natives decided me that the matter was serious. I questioned my guide
as to their intentions, and was scarcely reassured by his naive remark:
"They are coming to eat us." Accordingly I kept quiet behind a clump of
grass till they were quite close and there was no further doubt of their
intentions, and opened fire with my light rifle. They disappeared like
rabbits into the standing crops.
We then hurried on to the huts from which we had seen these people come;
but they were too quick for us, and fled. A cloud of vultures hovering
over the spot gave me an inkling of what I was about to see, but the
realization defies description; it haunts me in my dreams, at dinner it
sits on my leg-of-mutton, it bubbles in my soup--in fine, Watonga would
not eat the potatoes that grew in the same country, and went without
food for forty-eight hours rather than do so: ask your African friends
what that means; negroes have not delicate stomachs. Loathsome,
revolting, a hideous nightmare of horrors; and yet I must tell briefly
what I saw, for the edification of any disciple of the
poor-dear-black-man, down-with-the-Maxim, Africa-for-the-African Creed,
who may chance to peruse these pages.
_Item_.--A bunch of human entrails drying on a stick.
_Item_.--A howling baby.
_Item_.--A pot of soup with bright yellow fat.
_Item_.--A skeleton with the skin on lying in the middle of the huts;
apparently been dead about three months.
_Item_.--A gnawed thigh-bone with shreds of half-cooked meat attached.
_Item_.--A gnawed forearm, raw.
_Item_.--Three packets of small joints, evidently prepared for flight,
but forgotten at the last moment.
_Item_.--A head, with a spoon left sticking in the brains.
_Item_.--A head, one cheek eaten, the other charred; hair burnt, and
scalp cut off at top of forehead like the peel of an orange; one eye
removed, presumably eaten, the other glaring at you.
_Item_.--Offal, sewage.
_Item_.--A stench that passeth all understanding, and, as a fitting
accompaniment, a hovering cloud of crows and loathly, scraggy-necked
vultures.
Every village had been burnt to the ground, and as I fled from the
country I saw skeletons, skeletons everywhere; and such postures, what
tales of horror they told! Let this suffice, worse than all this I saw,
and that I have not exaggerated one jot or tittle, may God bear me
witness! I would not have entered into these revolting details, but
that I think it advisable that those who have not the chance of seeing
for themselves should know what is going on every day in this country. A
beautiful yellow covers this spot on the map, with a fringe of red spots
with flags attached, denoting (as the map informs you) stations of the
Congo Free State. And yet a peaceful agricultural people can be
subjected to horrors like this for months (_without any one knowing_).
And why? Because the whole system is bunkum--the so-called partition of
Africa. The stations marked do not exist; and read, mark, learn, and
inwardly digest this fact: I have to pay a licence _to carry a gun_ in
the country.
The next day I reached Kishari, and found that this beautiful and
well-watered country had been converted into a howling wilderness,
Kameronse having suffered to the same extent. Thus a tract of country
about 3,000 square miles in extent has been depopulated and devastated.
I do not believe that two per cent. of the thousands of inhabitants have
survived the massacre and famine: in Kishari and Kameronse there is not
one single soul. And all this is directly attributable to the revolted
Askaris of the Congo: they led the attack with thirty guns, took all the
cattle, and then departed, leaving this horde of hyaenas in their wake;
and a similar fate has, I suppose, befallen all those tribes between
Tanganyika and Albert Edward through whose country they passed.
The partition or occupation of Africa with a view to sound
colonization--that is, to fit the country as a future home for surplus
population--is the obvious duty of the nations which form the vanguard
of civilization. This is the object of our occupation of the various
territories under the British flag, and of the Germans in the East and
South-west Africa, and, I believe, of the French in the north, to make
new markets and open up country for coming generations; to suffer
temporary loss for the future benefit of overcrowded humanity.
Experience and the suitability of our institutions are the reasons of
our success. The predominance of militarism is the reason of the
hitherto comparative failure of the two great land powers, and
corruption and senile decay are the reasons of the abject failure of the
nation that led the van of colonization. However, _experientia docet_,
and Germany, at least, is laying a sound foundation for a broader
colonial policy, while Portuguese occupation is only a negative failure.
But what can be said in favour of permitting a vast tract of country to
be run merely as a commercial speculation without more legitimate
objective than that of squeezing as much rubber and ivory out of the
natives as possible; of arming large numbers of savages and entrusting
them to inexperienced men from a land of untravelled commercials to whom
expatriation is akin to disgrace; of making the administrators of
districts to all intents and purposes farmers of the taxes? However
sound the intentions of the fountain-head, there can be no responsible
administration without a connection with a definite home government.
Men do not take employment in Africa for the joke of the thing. Hopes of
preferment or pecuniary profit are what induce them to give up the
comforts of civilization, and where the former is lacking the latter
must be offered, or only the dregs of other trades will be forthcoming.
Then followed two of the worst days of my life. Rapid movements alone
could save us from annihilation, and we travelled from sunrise to
sunset, camping in patches of forest, and concealing our route by
leaving the paths and forcing our way through the grass. Mummies,
skulls, limbs, putrefying carcases washing to and fro in every limpid
stream, marked the course of the fiendish horde. An insufferable stench
filled the land, concentrating round every defiled homestead. This was
the Congo Free State. Fear of being rushed at night made sleep
well-nigh impossible, tired as we were. The country was exceedingly
beautiful. Wild stretches of undulating hills, streaked with forest and
drained by a hundred streams, each with its cargo of bloated corpses,
made a terrible combination of heaven and hell. It was a scene that
made one wonder if there be a God. To the west I could see two lakes
nestling between the hills. A stream connects the two, and empties out
at the south end, flowing, I imagined, towards the Congo. Flights of
gorgeous butterflies floated here and there, and, settling on the
gruesome relics, gave a finishing touch to the horrors of that land.
Leaving Kishari, we passed over the watershed, about 9,500 ft., and
descended into Kameronse. Here we were met by the same scenes of
desolation; the whole country had been swept clean--not so much as a
sweet potato, which grow almost as weeds, was left. As we were skirting
along a large papyrus swamp, which absorbs all the neighbouring streams,
we came on the fresh spoor of natives. I had only just seized my gun,
for which I had to wait about ten minutes, when a woman, girl, and two
small boys appeared. These my natives captured; and no sooner did the
woman realize that she had fallen into undesirable quarters, than she
offered to show us where her relations lay. I followed the direction
indicated with great caution, the way leading through very tall and
thick grass; and as I turned a corner, my guide flashed past me like a
streak of lightning, and I found myself confronted by half a dozen
gentlemen of anthropophagic proclivities on supper intent. The
unexpected apparition of a white man checked their rush, and dodging a
spear, I got my chance and dropped one with a shot through the heart,
two others escaping by my magazine failing to feed the barrel. We
rushed on in pursuit, and shortly came on their encampment in a banana
grove; here were the same ghastly relics as we had seen before. It
appeared that they had raided an outlying village of Bugoie the previous
night, and had caught two unfortunate wretches, whose remains were
baking and stewing in pots. From the number of the rude huts there must
have been at least fifty Baleka, but they had disappeared into the grass
and papyrus, and we saw no more of them. Some baskets of grain were
lying about, and these the Manyema eagerly seized upon; but I could not
bring myself to eat any, and my Watonga were equally fastidious,
although we had been almost without food for three days. Our captives
were terribly thin, and these outlying bands of raiders are evidently
leading but a hand-to-mouth existence; and as the Baleka have cut their
boats adrift by wiping out the whole country behind them (in their
wanton madness they even cut down the banana palms), I am afraid the
people of Bugoie will eventually succumb, although hitherto they have
held out. As yet they have only had to repel the attacks of small
bands, the main mass of the Baleka being still occupied in demolishing
the mtama fields of northern Mushari. When the general onslaught
begins, I think they will have to give way before the thousands of
savages rendered desperate by the impossibility of retreat, and those,
too, men of superior courage. Those Baleka that I had the chance of
observing at close quarters were well made and pleasant-featured,
averaging not more than 5 ft. Their possessions--baskets, shields,
knives, etc.--are very crude, and their dress consists of air and an
occasional scrap of hide, human or otherwise. Whether they have a
definite country or not, I cannot say; some natives told me that they
have, many days' journey west of Kivu, while the majority say that they
lead a nomadic existence like a flight of locusts, eating up just as
effectually whatever they come across. At a rough estimate, there
cannot have been less than 5,000 of them in the countries I passed
through.
The next morning we came on another small encampment, which,
fortunately, had been unable to see our fires, owing to the dense bush,
although we were not half a mile away. To my amazement our guide,
seeing one gentleman apart from the rest and unarmed, rushed in and
speared him. The others turned on me, but were dispersed with a couple
of shots. This was the last we saw of the Baleka, as, in the evening,
we reached the outskirts of Bugoie, but skulls and charred relics for
many miles bore witness to their recent raids. Very glad I was of a
night's rest, for although the moral and sometimes physical effect of
firearms on these unsophisticated people is very great, still the danger
of being rushed at night, or in the dense forest and long grass, made it
very anxious work; also the smallness of my caravan--twelve carriers
with only two sniders, and such excitable curs at the end of them that I
forbade them to fire--made us a tempting prey for any large number of
natives we might meet; however, this was balanced by the rapidity of our
movements and unexpected appearance, which would have been impossible
with a larger caravan.
Such was the country that had been described to me by Dr. Kandt, who had
visited it six months before, as a beautiful district teeming with
peaceful agricultural folk. The natives informed me that of all that
flourishing community but sixty remained. I was very anxious about
Sharp, fearing that he might enter the country by a different road to
that by which I had just left. Had he arrived hampered by a large
caravan and cattle, he must inevitably have been destroyed. Hoping that
he was still south of the volcanoes, I hurried east through the forest
that is springing up on the great lava-bed thrown out by the last
eruption but one. Here too the path was strewn with skulls, showing the
desperate efforts that the Baleka had made to force an entry into
Bugoie. Late in the afternoon we arrived at an old volcanic cone. This
was the outpost of Bugoie, and the few wretched survivors, seeing us
approaching through the forest, naturally mistook us for Baleka, and
quickly prepared for battle. It was only after an hour's shouting that
we allayed their fears. With some difficulty we managed to procure a
jar of bad water, which we sadly needed, having had nothing to drink
since daybreak, and we endeavoured to appease our ravening hunger with a
brace of pumpkins, which was all the poor creatures had to offer us.
Their destitution was complete, and filled me with pity, but I was
powerless to assist them. It was impossible to obtain any definite
information about Sharp, and it was with the direst forebodings that I
started the following morning, as I knew that there was now no chance of
intercepting him. However, an hour later I met an elderly pigmy in the
forest and managed to induce him to talk. He was a splendid little
fellow full of self-confidence, and gave me most concise information,
stating that the white man with many belongings had passed near by two
days before, and had then gone down to the lake-shore, where he was
camped at that moment. These people must have a wonderful code of signs
and signals, as, despite their isolated and nomadic existence, they
always know exactly what is happening everywhere. He was a typical
pigmy as found on the volcanoes--squat, gnarled, proud, and easy of
carriage. His beard hung down over his chest, and his thighs and chest
were covered with wiry hair. He carried the usual pigmy bow made of two
pieces of cane spliced together with grass, and with a string made of a
single strand of a rush that grows in the forests.
I sent off two of my boys with a note to Sharp, and pushed on as fast as
possible to the food districts of Bugoie, where my boys ate so much that
I despaired of their surviving. For the next two days I was very ill,
owing to my having eaten a number of green bananas in the first banana
plantation that I entered. The scarcity of water made it still more
difficult to endure the pangs of hunger during the last day of our
march.