Crosses Cape Maclear. The havildar demoralised. The discomfited
chief. Beaches Marenga's town. The earth-sponge. Description of
Marenga's town. Rumours of Mazitu. Musa and the Johanna men
desert. Beaches Kimsusa's. His delight at seeing the Doctor once
more. The fat ram. Kimsusa relates his experience of
Livingstone's advice. Chuma finds relatives. Kimsusa solves the
transport difficulty nobly. Another old fishing acquaintance.
Description of the people and country on the west of the Lake.
The Kanthundas. Kauma. Iron-smelting. An African Sir Colin
Campbell. Milandos.
_21st September, 1866._--We marched westwards, making across the base
of Cape Maclear. Two men employed as guides and carriers, went along
grumbling that their dignity was so outraged by working--"only fancy
Waiyau carrying like slaves!!" They went but a short distance, and
took advantage of my being in front to lay down the loads, one of
which consisted of the havildar's bed and cooking things; here they
opened the other bundle and paid themselves--the gallant havildar
sitting and looking on. He has never been of the smallest use, and
lately has pretended to mysterious pains in his feet; no swelling or
other symptom accompanied this complaint. On coming to Pima's village
he ate a whole fowl and some fish for supper, slept soundly till
daybreak, then on awaking commenced a furious groaning--"feet were so
bad." I told him that people usually moaned when insensible, but he
had kept quiet till he awaked; he sulked at this, and remained all
day, though I sent a man to carry his kit for him, and when he came
up he had changed the seat of his complaint from his feet to any part
of his abdomen. He gave off his gun-belt and pouch to the carrier.
This was a blind to me, for I examined and found that he had already
been stealing and selling his ammunition: this is all preparatory to
returning to the coast with some slave-trader. Nothing can exceed the
ease and grace with which sepoys can glide from a swagger into the
most abject begging of food from the villagers. He has remained
behind.
_22nd September, 1866._--The hills we crossed were about 700 feet above
Nyassa, generally covered with trees; no people were seen. We slept by
the brook Sikoché. Rocks of hardened sandstone rested on mica schist,
which had an efflorescence of alum on it, above this was dolomite; the
hills often capped with it and oak-spar, giving a snowy appearance. We
had a Waiyau party with us--six handsomely-attired women carried huge
pots of beer for their husbands, who very liberally invited us to
partake. After seven hours' hard travelling we came to the village,
where we spend Sunday by the torrent Usangazi, and near a remarkable
mountain, Namasi. The chief, a one-eyed man, was rather coy--coming
_incognito_ to visit us; and, as I suspected that he was present, I
asked if the chief were an old woman, afraid to look at and welcome a
stranger? All burst into a laugh, and looked at him, when he felt
forced to join in it, and asked what sort of food we liked best. Chuma
put this clear enough by saying, "He eats everything eaten by the
Waiyau." This tribe, or rather the Machinga, now supersede the
Manganja. We passed one village of the latter near this, a sad,
tumble-down affair, while the Waiyau villages are very neat, with
handsome straw or reed fences all around their huts.
_24th September, 1866._--We went only 2-1/2 miles to the village of
Marenga, a very large one, situated at the eastern edge of the bottom
of the heel of the Lake. The chief is ill of a loathsome disease
derived direct from the Arabs. Raised patches of scab of circular form
disfigure the face and neck as well as other parts. His brother begged
me to see him and administer some remedy for the same complaint. He is
at a village a little way off, and though sent for, was too ill to
come or to be carried. The tribe is of Babisa origin. Many of these
people had gone to the coast as traders, and returning with arms and
ammunition joined the Waiyau in their forays on the Manganja, and
eventually set themselves up as an independent tribe. The women do not
wear the lip-ring, though the majority of them are Waiyau. They
cultivate largely, and have plenty to eat. They have cattle, but do
not milk them.
The bogs, or earthen sponges,[25] of this country occupy a most
important part in its physical geography, and probably explain the
annual inundations of most of the rivers. Wherever a plain sloping
towards a narrow opening in hills or higher ground exists, there we
have the conditions requisite for the formation of an African sponge.
The vegetation, not being of a heathy or peat-forming kind, falls
down, rots, and then forms rich black loam. In many cases a mass of
this loam, two or three feet thick, rests on a bed of pure river sand,
which is revealed by crabs and other aquatic animals bringing it to
the surface. At present, in the dry season, the black loam is cracked
in all directions, and the cracks are often as much as three inches
wide, and very deep. The whole surface has now fallen down, and rests
on the sand, but when the rains come, the first supply is nearly all
absorbed in the sand. The black loam forms soft slush, and floats on
the sand. The narrow opening prevents it from moving off in a
landslip, but an oozing spring rises at that spot. All the pools in
the lower portion of this spring-course are filled by the first rains,
which happen south of the equator when the sun goes vertically over
any spot. The second, or greater rains, happen in his course north
again, when all the bogs and river-courses being wet, the supply runs
off, and forms the inundation: this was certainly the case as observed
on the Zambesi and Shiré, and, taking the different times for the
sun's passage north of the equator, it explains the inundation of the
Nile.
_25th September, 1866._--Marenga's town on the west shore of Lake Nyassa is
very large, and his people collected in great numbers to gaze at the
stranger. The chief's brother asked a few questions, and I took the
occasion to be a good one for telling him something about the Bible
and the future state. The men said that their fathers had never told
them aught about the soul, but they thought that the whole man rotted
and came to nothing. What I said was very nicely put by a volunteer
spokesman, who seemed to have a gift that way, for all listened most
attentively, and especially when told that our Father in heaven loved
all, and heard prayers addressed to Him.
Marenga came dressed in a red-figured silk shawl, and attended by
about ten court beauties, who spread a mat for him, then a cloth
above, and sat down as if to support him. He asked me to examine his
case inside a hut. He exhibited his loathsome skin disease, and being
blacker than his wives, the blotches with which he was covered made
him appear very ugly. He thought that the disease was in the country
before Arabs came. Another new disease acquired from them was the
small-pox.
_26th September, 1866._--An Arab passed us yesterday, his slaves going by
another route across the base of Cape Maclear. He told Musa that all
the country in front was full of Mazitu; that forty-four Arabs and
their followers had been killed by them at Kasungu, and he only
escaped. Musa and all the Johanna men now declared that they would go
no farther. Musa said, "No good country that; I want to go back to
Johanna to see my father and mother and son." I took him to Marenga,
and asked the chief about the Mazitu. He explained that the
disturbance was caused by the Manganja finding that Jumbé brought
Arabs and ammunition into the country every year, and they resented it
in consequence; they would not allow more to come, because they were
the sufferers, and their nation was getting destroyed.
I explained to Musa that we should avoid the Mazitu: Marenga added,
"There are no Mazitu near where you are going;" but Musa's eyes _stood
out_ with terror, and he said, "I no can believe that man." But I
inquired, "How can you believe the Arab so easily?" Musa answered, "I
ask him to tell me true, and he say true, true," &c.
When we started, all the Johanna men walked off, leaving the goods on
the ground. They have been such inveterate thieves that I am not sorry
to get rid of them; for though my party is now inconveniently small, I
could not trust them with flints in their guns, nor allow them to
remain behind, for their object was invariably to plunder their loads.
[Here then we have Livingstone's account of the origin of that
well-told story, which at first seemed too true. How Mr. Edward Young,
R.N., declared it to be false, and subsequently proved it untrue, is
already well known. This officer's quick voyage to Lake Nyassa
reflected the greatest credit on him, and all hearts were filled with
joy when he returned and reported the tale of Livingstone's murder to
be merely an invention of Musa and his comrades.]
I ought to mention that the stealing by the Johanna men was not the
effect of hunger; it attained its height when we had plenty. If one
remained behind, we knew his object in delaying was stealing. He gave
what he filched to the others, and Musa shared the dainties they
bought with the stolen property. When spoken to he would say, "I every
day tell Johanna men no steal Doctor's things." As he came away and
left them in the march, I insisted out his bringing up all his men;
this he did not relish, and the amount stolen was not small. One stole
fifteen pounds of fine powder, another seven, another left six
table-cloths out of about twenty-four; another called out to a man to
bring a fish, and he would buy it with beads, the beads being stolen,
and Musa knew it all and connived at it; but it was terror that drove
him away at last.
With our goods in canoes we went round the bottom of the heel of
Nyassa, slept among reeds, and next morning (27th) landed at Msangwa,
which is nearly opposite Kimsusa's, or Katosa's, as the Makololo
called him. A man had been taken off by a crocodile last night; he had
been drinking beer, and went down to the water to cool himself, where
he lay down, and the brute seized him. The water was very muddy, being
stirred up by an east wind, which lashed the waves into our canoes,
and wetted our things. The loud wail of the women is very painful to
hear; it sounds so dolefully.
_28th, September, 1866._--We reached Kinisusa's, below Mount Mulundini, of
Kirk's range.[26] The chief was absent, but he was sent for
immediately: his town has much increased since I saw it last.
_29th September, 1866._--Another Arab passed last night, with the tale that
his slaves had all been taken from him by the Mazitu. It is more
respectable to be robbed by them than by the Manganja, who are much
despised and counted nobodies. I propose to go west of this among the
Maravi until quite away beyond the disturbances, whether of Mazitu or
Manganja.
_30th September, 1866._--We enjoy our Sunday here. We have-abundance of
food from Kimsusa's wife. The chief wished me to go alone and enjoy
his drinking bout, and then we could return to this place together;
but this was not to my taste.
_1st October, 1866._--Kimsusa, or Mehusa, came this morning, and
seemed very glad again to see his old friend. He sent off at once to
bring an enormous ram, which had either killed or seriously injured a
man. The animal came tied to a pole to keep him off the man who held
it, while a lot more carried him. He was prodigiously fat;[27] this is
a true African way of showing love--plenty of fat and beer.
Accordingly the chief brought a huge basket of "pombe," the native
beer, and another of "nsima," or porridge, and a pot of cooked meat;
to these were added a large basket of maize. So much food had been
brought to us, that we had at last to explain that we could not carry
it.
[The Doctor states a fact in the next few lines which shows that the
Africans readily profit by advice which appeals to their common sense,
and we make this observation in full knowledge of similar instances.]
Kimsusa says that they felt earthquakes at the place Mponda now
occupies, but none where he is now. He confirms the tradition that the
Manganja came from the west or W.N.W. He speaks more rationally about
the Deity than some have done, and adds, that it was by following the
advice which I gave him the last time I saw him, and not selling his
people, that his village is now three times its former size. He has
another village besides, and he was desirous that I should see that
too; that was the reason he invited me to come, but the people would
come and visit me.
_2nd October, 1866._--Kimsusa made his appearance early with a huge
basket of beer, 18 inches high and 15 inches in diameter. He served it
out for a time, taking deep draughts himself, becoming extremely
loquacious in consequence. He took us to a dense thicket behind his
town, among numbers of lofty trees, many of which I have seen nowhere
else; that under which we sat bears a fruit in clusters, which is
eatable, and called "_Mbedwa_." A space had been cleared, and we were
taken to this shady spot as the one in which business of importance
and secrecy is transacted. Another enormous basket of beer was brought
here by his wives, but there was little need for it, for Kimsusa
talked incessantly, and no business was done.
_3rd October, 1866._--The chief came early, and sober. I rallied him
on his previous loquacity, and said one ought to find time in the
morning if business was to be done: he took it in good part, and one
of his wives joined in bantering him. She is _the_ wife and the mother
of the sons in whom he delights, and who will succeed him. I proposed
to him to send men with me to the Babisa country, and I would pay them
there, where they could buy ivory for him with the pay, and, bringing
it back, he would be able to purchase clothing without selling his
people. He says that his people would not bring the pay or anything
else back. When he sends to purchase ivory he gives the price to Arabs
or Babisa, and they buy for him and conduct his business honestly; but
his people, the Manganja, cannot be trusted: this shows a remarkable
state of distrust, and, from previous information, it is probably
true.
A party of the Arab Khambuiri's people went up lately to the Maravi
country above this, and immediately west of Kirk's range, to purchase
slaves: but they were attacked by the Maravi, and dispersed with
slaughter: this makes Kimsusa's people afraid to venture there. They
had some quarrel with the Maravi also of their own, and no intercourse
now took place. A path further south was followed by Mponda lately,
and great damage done, so it would not be wise to go on his footsteps.
Kimsusa said he would give me carriers to go up to the Maravi, but he
wished to be prepaid: to this I agreed, but even then he could not
prevail on anyone to go. He then sent for an old Mobisa man, who has a
village under him, and acknowledges Kimsusa's power. He says that he
fears that, should he force his Manganja to go, they would leave us on
the road, or run away on the first appearance of danger; but this
Mobisa man would be going to his own country, and would stick by us.
Meanwhile the chief overstocks us with beer and other food.
_4th October, 1866._--The Mobisa man sent for came, but was so ignorant of
his own country, not knowing the names of the chief Babisa town or any
of the rivers, that I declined his guidance. He would only have been a
clog on us; and anything about the places in front of us we could
ascertain at the villages where we touch by inquiry as well as he
could.
A woman turned up here, and persuaded Chuma that she was his aunt. He
wanted to give her at once a fathom of calico and beads, and wished me
to cut his pay down for the purpose. I persuaded him to be content
with a few beads for her. He gave her his spoon and some other
valuables, fully persuaded that she was a relative, though he was
interrogated first as to his father's name, and tribe, &c., before she
declared herself.
It shows a most forgiving disposition on the part of these boys to
make presents to those who, if genuine relations, actually sold them.
But those who have been caught young, know nothing of the evils of
slavery, and do not believe in its ills. Chuma, for instance, believes
now that he was caught and sold by the Manganja, and not by his own
Waiyau, though it was just in the opposite way that he became a slave,
and he asserted and believes that no Waiyau ever sold his own child.
When reminded that Wikatani was sold by his own father, he denied it;
then that the father of Chimwala, another boy, sold him, his mother,
and sister, he replied, "These are Machinga." This is another tribe of
Waiyau; but this showed that he was determined to justify his
countrymen at any rate. I mention this matter, because though the
Oxford and Cambridge Mission have an advantage in the instruction of
boys taken quite young from slavers, yet these same boys forget the
evils to which they were exposed and from which they were rescued, and
it is even likely that they will, like Chuma, deny that any benefit
was conferred upon them by their deliverance. This was not stated
broadly by Chuma, but his tone led one to believe that he was quite
ready to return to the former state.
_5th October, 1866._--The chief came early with an immense basket of
beer, as usual. We were ready to start: he did not relish this; but I
told him it was clear that his people set very light by his authority.
He declared that he would force them or go himself, with his wives as
carriers. This dawdling and guzzling had a bad effect on my remaining
people. Simon, a Nassick lad, for instance, overheard two words which
he understood; these were "Mazitu" and "lipululu," or desert; and from
these he conjured up a picture of Mazitu rushing out upon us from the
jungle, and killing all without giving us time to say a word! To this
he added scraps of distorted information: Khambuiri was a very bad
chief in front, &c., all showing egregious cowardice; yet he came to
give me advice. On asking what he knew (as he could not speak the
language), he replied that he heard the above two words, and that
Chuma could not translate them, but he had caught them, and came to
warn me.
The chief asked me to stay over to-day, and he would go with his wives
to-morrow; I was his friend, and he would not see me in difficulties
without doing his utmost. He says that there is no danger of our not
finding people for carrying loads. It is probable that Khambuiri's
people went as marauders, and were beaten off in consequence.
_6th October, 1866._--We marched about seven miles to the north to a
village opposite the pass Tapiri, and on a rivulet, Godedza. It was
very hot. Kimsusa behaves like a king: his strapping wives came to
carry loads, and shame his people. Many of the young men turned out
and took the loads, but it was evident that they feared retaliation if
they ventured up the pass. One wife carried beer, another meal; and as
soon as we arrived, cooking commenced: porridge and roasted goat's
flesh made a decent meal. A preparation of meal called "Toku" is very
refreshing and brings out all the sugary matter in the grain: he gave
me some in the way, and, seeing I liked it, a calabash full was
prepared for me in the evening. Kimsusa delights in showing me to his
people as his friend. If I could have used his pombe, or beer, it
would have put some fat on my bones, but it requires a strong
digestion; many of the chiefs and their wives live on it almost
entirely. A little flesh is necessary to relieve the acidity it
causes; and they keep all flesh very carefully, no matter how high it
may become: drying it on a stage over a fire prevents entire
putridity.
_7th October, 1866._--I heard hooping-cough[28] in the village. We
found our visitors so disagreeable that I was glad to march; they were
Waiyau, and very impudent, demanding gun or game medicine to enable
them to shoot well: they came into the hut uninvited, and would take
no denial. It is probable that the Arabs drive a trade in gun
medicine: it is inserted in cuts made above the thumb, and on the
forearm. Their superciliousness shows that they feel themselves to be
the dominant race. The Manganja trust to their old bows and arrows;
they are much more civil than Ajawa or Waiyau.
[The difference between these two great races is here well worthy of
the further notice which Livingstone no doubt would have given it. As
a rule, the Manganja are extremely clever in all the savage arts and
manufactures. Their looms turn out a strong serviceable cotton cloth;
their iron weapons and implements show a taste for design which is not
reached by the neighbouring tribes, and in all matters that relate to
husbandry they excel: but in dash and courage they are deficient. The
Waiyau, on the contrary, have round apple-shaped heads, as
distinguished from the long well-shaped heads of the poor Manganja;
they are jocular and merry, given to travelling, and bold in
war--these are qualities which serve them well as they are driven from
pillar to post through slave wars and internal dissension, but they
have not the brains of the Manganja, nor the talent to make their mark
in any direction where brains are wanted.]
A Manganja man, who formerly presented us with the whole haul of his
net, came and gave me four fowls: some really delight in showing
kindness. When we came near the bottom of the pass Tapiri, Kimsusa's
men became loud against his venturing further; he listened, then burst
away from them: he listened again, then did the same; and as he had
now got men for us, I thought it better to let him go.
In three hours and a quarter we had made a clear ascent of 2200 feet
above the Lake. The first persons we met were two men and a boy, who
were out hunting with a dog and basket-trap. This is laid down in the
run of some small animal; the dog chases it, and it goes into the
basket which is made of split bamboo, and has prongs looking inwards,
which prevent its egress: mouse traps are made in the same fashion. I
suspected that the younger of the men had other game in view, and
meant, if fit opportunity offered, to insert an arrow in a Waiyau, who
was taking away his wife as a slave. He told me before we had gained
the top of the ascent that some Waiyau came to a village, separated
from his by a small valley, picked a quarrel with the inhabitants, and
then went and took the wife and child of a poorer countryman to pay
these pretended offences.
_8th October, 1866._--At the first village we found that the people up
here and those down below were mutually afraid of each other. Kimsusa
came to the bottom of the range, his last act being the offer of a pot
of beer, and a calabash of Toku, which latter was accepted. I paid his
wives for carrying our things: they had done well, and after we gained
the village where we slept, sang and clapped their hands vigorously
till one o'clock in the morning, when I advised them to go to sleep.
The men he at last provided were very faithful and easily satisfied.
Here we found the headman, Kawa, of Mpalapala, quite as hospitable. In
addition to providing a supper, it is the custom to give breakfast
before starting. Resting on the 8th to make up for the loss of rest on
Sunday; we marched on Tuesday (the 9th), but were soon brought to a
stand by Gombwa, whose village, Tamiala, stands on another ridge.
Gombwa, a laughing, good-natured man, said that he had sent for all
his people to see me; and I ought to sleep, to enable them to look on
one the like of whom had never come their way before. Intending to go
on, I explained some of my objects in coming through the country,
advising the people to refrain from selling each other, as it ends in
war and depopulation. He was cunning, and said, "Well, you must sleep
here, and all my people will come and hear those words of peace." I
explained that I had employed carriers, who expected to be paid though
I had gone but a small part of a day; he replied, "But they will go
home and come again to-morrow, and it will count but one day:" I was
thus constrained to remain.
_9th October, 1866._--Both barometer and boiling-point showed an
altitude of upwards of 4000 feet above the sea. This is the hottest
month, but the air is delightfully clear, and delicious. The country
is very fine, lying in long slopes, with mountains rising all around,
from 2000 to 3000 feet above this upland. They are mostly jagged and
rough (not rounded like those near to Mataka's): the long slopes are
nearly denuded of trees, and the patches of cultivation are so large
and often squarish in form, that but little imagination is requisite
to transform the whole into the cultivated fields of England; but no
hedgerows exist. The trees are in clumps on the tops of the ridges, or
at the villages, or at the places of sepulture. Just now the young
leaves are out, but are not yet green. In some lights they look brown,
but with transmitted light, or when one is near them, crimson
prevails. A yellowish-green is met sometimes in the young leaves, and
brown, pink, and orange-red. The soil is rich, but the grass is only
excessively rank in spots; in general it is short. A kind of trenching
of the ground is resorted to; they hoe deep, and draw it well to
themselves: this exposes the other earth to the hoe. The soil is
burned too: the grass and weeds are placed in flat heaps, and soil
placed over them: the burning is slow, and most of the products of
combustion are retained to fatten the field; in this way the people
raise large crops. Men and women and children engage in field labour,
but at present many of the men are engaged in spinning buazé[29] and
cotton. The former is made into a coarse sacking-looking stuff,
immensely strong, which seems to be worn by the women alone; the men
are clad in uncomfortable goatskins. No wild animals seem to be in the
country, and indeed the population is so large they would have very
unsettled times of it. At every turning we meet people, or see their
villages; all armed with bows and arrows. The bows are unusually long:
I measured one made of bamboo, and found that along the bowstring it
measured six feet four inches. Many carry large knives of fine iron;
and indeed the metal is abundant. Young men and women wear the hair
long, a mass of small ringlets comes down and rests on the shoulders,
giving them the appearance of the ancient Egyptians. One side is often
cultivated, and the mass hangs jauntily on that side; some few have a
solid cap of it. Not many women wear the lip-ring: the example of the
Waiyau has prevailed so far; but some of the young women have raised
lines crossing each other on the arms, which must have cost great
pain: they have also small cuts, covering in some cases the whole
body. The Maravi or Manganja here may be said to be in their primitive
state. We find them very liberal with their food: we give a cloth to
the headman of the village where we pass the night, and he gives a
goat, or at least cooked fowls and porridge, at night and morning.
[Illustration: Tattoo on Women.]
We were invited by Gombwa in the afternoon to speak the same words to
his people that we used to himself in the morning. He nudged a boy to
respond, which is considered polite, though he did it only with a
rough hem! at the end of each sentence. As for our general discourse
we mention our relationship to our Father: His love to all His
children--the guilt of selling any of His children--the consequence;
_e.g._ it begets war, for they don't like to sell their own, and steal
from other villagers, who retaliate. Arabs and Waiyau invited into the
country by their selling, foster feuds, and war and depopulation
ensue. We mention the Bible--future state--prayer: advise union, that
they should unite as one family to expel enemies, who came first as
slave-traders, and ended by leaving the country a wilderness. In
reference to union, we showed that they ought to have seen justice
done to the man who lost his wife and child at their very doors; but
this want of cohesion is the bane of the Manganja. If the evil does
not affect themselves they don't care whom it injures; and Gombwa
confirmed this, by saying that when he routed Khambuiri's people, the
villagers west of him fled instead of coming to his aid.
We hear that many of the Manganja up here are fugitives from Nyassa.
_10th October, 1866._--Kawa and his people were with us early this
morning, and we started from Tamiala with them. The weather is lovely,
and the scenery, though at present tinged with yellow from the grass,
might be called glorious. The bright sun and delicious air are quite
exhilarating. We passed a fine flowing rivulet, called Levizé, going
into the Lake, and many smaller runnels of delicious cold water. On
resting by a dark sepulchral grove, a tree attracted the attention, as
nowhere else seen: it is called Bokonto, and said to bear eatable
fruit. Many fine flowers were just bursting into full blossom. After
about four hours' march we put up at Chitimba, the village of
Kañgomba, and were introduced by Kawa, who came all the way for the
purpose.
_11th October, 1866._--A very cold morning, with a great bank of black
clouds in the east, whence the wind came. Therm. 59°; in hut 69°. The
huts are built very well. The roof, with the lower part plastered, is
formed so as not to admit a ray of light, and the only visible mode of
ingress for it is by the door. This case shows that winter is cold: on
proposing to start, breakfast was not ready: then a plan was formed to
keep me another day at a village close by, belonging to one Kulu, a
man of Kauma, to whom we go next. It was effectual, and here we are
detained another day. A curiously cut-out stool is in my hut, made by
the Mkwisa, who are south-west of this: it is of one block, but
hollowed out, and all the spaces indicated are hollow too: about 2-1/2
feet long by 1-1/2 foot high.
[Illustration: Curiously cut-out stool of one block of wood hollowed
out.]
_12th October, 1866._--We march westerly, with a good deal of
southing. Kulu gave us a goat, and cooked liberally for us all. He set
off with us as if to go to Kauma's in our company, but after we had
gone a couple of miles he slipped behind, and ran away. Some are
naturally mean, and some naturally noble: the mean cannot help showing
their nature, nor can the noble; but the noble-hearted must enjoy life
most. Kulu got a cloth, and he gave us at least its value; but he
thought he had got more than he gave, and so by running away that he
had done us nicely, without troubling himself to go and introduce us
to Kauma. I usually request a headman of a village to go with us. They
give a good report of us, if for no other reason than for their own
credit, because no one likes to be thought giving his countenance to
people other than respectable, and it costs little.
We came close to the foot of several squarish mountains, having
perpendicular sides. One, called "Ulazo pa Malungo," is used by the
people, whose villages cluster round its base as a storehouse for
grain. Large granaries stand on its top, containing food to be used in
case of war. A large cow is kept up there, which is supposed capable
of knowing and letting the owners know when war is coming.[30] There
is a path up, but it was not visible to us. The people are all
Kanthunda, or climbers, not Maravi. Kimsusa said that he was the only
Maravi chief, but this I took to be an ebullition of beer bragging:
the natives up here, however, confirm this, and assert that they are
not Maravi, who are known by having markings down the side of the
face.
We spent the night at a Kanthunda village on the western side of a
mountain called Phunzé (the _h_ being an aspirate only). Many villages
are planted round its base, but in front, that is, westwards, we have
plains, and there the villages are as numerous: mostly they are within
half a mile of each other, and few are a mile from other hamlets. Each
village has a clump of trees around it: this is partly for shade and
partly for privacy from motives of decency. The heat of the sun causes
the effluvia to exhale quickly, so they are seldom offensive. The rest
of the country, where not cultivated, is covered with grass, the
seed-stalks about knee deep. It is gently undulating, lying in low
waves, stretching N.E. and S.W. The space between each wave is usually
occupied by a boggy spot or watercourse, which in some cases is filled
with pools with trickling rills between. All the people are engaged
at present in making mounds six or eight feet square, and from two to
three feet high. The sods in places not before hoed are separated from
the soil beneath and collected into flattened heaps, the grass
undermost; when dried, fire is applied and slow combustion goes on,
most of the products of the burning being retained in the ground, much
of the soil is incinerated. The final preparation is effected by the
men digging up the subsoil round the mound, passing each hoeful into
the left hand, where it pulverizes, and is then thrown on to the heap.
It is thus virgin soil on the top of the ashes and burned ground of
the original heap, very clear of weeds. At present many mounds have
beans and maize about four inches high. Holes, a foot in diameter and
a few inches deep, are made irregularly over the surface of the mound,
and about eight or ten grains put into each: these are watered by hand
and calabash, and kept growing till the rains set in, when a very
early crop is secured.
_13th October, 1866._--After leaving Phunzé, we crossed the Leviñgé, a
rivulet which flows northwards, and then into Lake Nyassa; the lines
of gentle undulation tend in that direction. Some hills appear on the
plains, but after the mountains which we have left behind they are
mere mounds. We are over 3000 feet above the sea, and the air is
delicious; but we often pass spots covered with a plant which grows in
marshy places, and its heavy smell always puts me in mind that at
other seasons this may not be so pleasant a residence. The fact of
even maize being planted on mounds where the ground is naturally quite
dry, tells a tale of abundant humidity of climate.
Kauma, a fine tall man, with a bald head and pleasant manners, told us
that some of his people had lately returned from the Chibisa or Babisa
country, whither they had gone to buy ivory, and they would give me
information about the path. He took a fancy to one of the boys'
blankets; offering a native cloth, much larger, in exchange, and even
a sheep to boot; but the owner being unwilling to part with his
covering, Kauma told me that he had not sent for his Babisa travellers
on account of my boy refusing to deal with him. A little childish
this, but otherwise he was very hospitable; he gave me a fine goat,
which, unfortunately, my people left behind.
The chief said that no Arabs ever came his way, nor Portuguese native
traders. When advising them to avoid the first attempts to begin the
slave-trade, as it would inevitably lead to war and depopulation,
Kauma replied that the chiefs had resolved to unite against the Waiyau
of Mpondé should he come again on a foray up to the highlands; but
they are like a rope of sand, there is no cohesion among them, and
each village is nearly independent of every other: they mutually
distrust each other.
_14th October, 1866._--Spent Sunday here. Kauma says that his people
are partly Kanthunda and partly Chipéta. The first are the
mountaineers, the second dwellers on the plains. The Chipéta have many
lines of marking: they are all only divisions of the great Manganja
tribe, and their dialects differ very slightly from that spoken by the
same people on the Shiré. The population is very great and very
ceremonious. When we meet anyone he turns aside and sits down: we clap
the hand on the chest and say, "Re peta--re peta," that is, "we pass,"
or "let us pass:" this is responded to at once by a clapping of the
hands together. When a person is called at a distance he gives two
loud claps of assent; or if he rises from near a superior he does, the
same thing, which is a sort of leave-taking.
We have to ask who are the principal chiefs in the direction which we
wish to take, and decide accordingly. Zomba was pointed out as a chief
on a range of hills on our west: beyond him lies Undi m'senga. I had
to take this route, as my people have a very vivid idea of the danger
of going northwards towards the Mazitu. We made more southing than we
wished. One day beyond Zomba and W.S.W. is the part called Chindando,
where the Portuguese formerly went for gold. They don't seem to have
felt it worth while to come here, as neither ivory nor gold could be
obtained if they did. The country is too full of people to allow any
wild animals elbow-room: even the smaller animals are hunted down by
means of nets and dogs.
We rested at Pachoma; the headman offering a goat and beer, but I
declined, and went on to Molomba. Here Kauma's carriers turned because
a woman had died that morning as we left the village. They asserted
that had she died before we started not a man would have left: this
shows a reverence for death, for the woman was no relative of any of
them. The headman of Molomba was very poor but very liberal, cooking
for us and presenting a goat: another headman from a neighbouring
village, a laughing, good-natured old man, named Chikala, brought beer
and a fowl in the morning. I asked him to go on with us to Mironga, it
being important, as above-mentioned, to have the like of his kind in
our company, and he consented. We saw Mount Ngala in the distance,
like a large sugar-loaf shot up in the air: in our former route to
Kasungu we passed north of it.
_16th October, 1866._--Crossed the rivulet Chikuyo going N. for the
Lake, and Mironga being but one-and-a-half hour off, we went on to
Chipanga: this is the proper name of what on the Zambesi is corrupted
into Shupanga. The headman, a miserable hemp-consuming[31] leper, fled
from us. We were offered a miserable hut, which we refused, Chikala
meanwhile went through the whole village seeking a better, which we
ultimately found: it was not in this chief to be generous, though
Chikala did what he could in trying to indoctrinate him: when I gave
him a present he immediately proposed to _sell_ a goat! We get on
pretty well however.
Zomha is in a range of hills to our west, called Zala nyama. The
Portuguese, in going to Casembe, went still further west than this.
Passing on we came to a smithy, and watched the founder at work
drawing off slag from the bottom of his furnace. He broke through the
hardened slag by striking it with an iron instrument inserted in the
end of a pole, when the material flowed out of the small hole left for
the purpose in the bottom of the furnace. The ore (probably the black
oxide) was like sand, and was put in at the top of the furnace, mixed
with charcoal. Only one bellows was at work, formed out of a goatskin,
and the blast was very poor. Many of these furnaces, or their remains,
are met with on knolls; those at work have a peculiarly tall hut built
over them.
On the eastern edge of a valley lying north and south, with the
Diampwé stream flowing along it, and the Dzala nyama range on the
western side, are two villages screened by fine specimens of the
_Ficus Indica_. One of these is owned by the headman Theresa, and
there we spent the night. We made very short marches, for the sun is
very powerful, and the soil baked hard, is sore on the feet: no want
of water, however, is felt, for we come to supplies every mile or two.
The people look very poor, having few or no beads; the ornaments being
lines and cuttings on the skin. They trust more to buazé than cotton.
I noticed but two cotton patches. The women are decidedly plain; but
monopolize all the buazé cloth. Theresa was excessively liberal, and
having informed us that Zomba lived some distance up the range and was
not the principal man in these parts, we, to avoid climbing the hills,
turned away to the north, in the direction of the paramount chief,
Chisumpi, whom we found to be only traditionally great.
_20th October, 1866._--In passing along we came to a village embowered
in fine trees; the headman is Kaveta, a really fine specimen of the
Kanthunda, tall, well-made, with a fine forehead and Assyrian nose. He
proposed to us to remain over night with him, and I unluckily
declined.
Convoying us out a mile, we parted with this gentleman, and then came
to a smith's village, where the same invitation was given and refused.
A sort of infatuation drove us on, and after a long hot march we found
the great Chisumpi, the facsimile in black of Sir Colin Campbell; his
nose, mouth, and the numerous wrinkles on his face were identical with
those of the great General, but here all resemblance ceased. Two men
had preceded us to give information, and when I followed I saw that
his village was one of squalid misery, the only fine things about
being the lofty trees in which it lay. Chisumpi begged me to sleep at
a village about half a mile behind: his son was browbeating him on
some domestic affair, and the older man implored me to go. Next
morning he came early to that village, and arranged for our departure,
offering nothing, and apparently not wishing to see us at all. I
suspect that though paramount chief, he is weak-minded, and has lost
thereby all his influence, but in the people's eyes he is still a
great one.
Several of my men exhibiting symptoms of distress, I inquired for a
village in which we could rest Saturday and Sunday, and at a distance
from Chisumpi. A headman volunteered to lead us to one west of this.
In passing the sepulchral grove of Chisumpi our guide remarked,
"Chisumpi's forefathers sleep there." This was the first time I have
heard the word "sleep" applied to death in these parts. The trees in
these groves, and around many of the villages, are very large, and
show what the country would become if depopulated.
We crossed the Diampwé or Adiampwé, from five to fifteen yards wide,
and well supplied with water even now. It rises near the Ndomo
mountains, and flows northwards into the Lintipé and Lake. We found
Chitokola's village, called Paritala, a pleasant one on the east side
of the Adiampwé Valley. Many elephants and other animals feed in the
valley, and we saw the Bechuana Hopo[32] again after many years.
The Ambarré, otherwise Nyumbo plant, has a pea-shaped, or rather
papilionaceous flower, with a fine scent. It seems to grow quite wild;
its flowers are yellow.
Chaola is the poison used by the Maravi for their arrows, it is said
to cause mortification.
One of the wonders usually told of us in this upland region is that we
sleep without fire. The boys' blankets suffice for warmth during the
night, when the thermometer sinks to 64°-60°, but no one else has
covering sufficient; some huts in process of building here show that a
thick coating of plaster is put on outside the roof before the grass
thatch is applied; not a chink is left for the admission of air.
Ohitikola was absent from Paritala when we arrived on some _milando_
or other. These _milandos_ are the business of their lives. They are
like petty lawsuits; if one trespasses on his neighbour's rights in
any way it is a _milando_, and the headmen of all the villages about
are called on to settle it. Women are a fruitful source of _milando_.
A few ears of Indian corn had been taken by a person, and Chitikola
had been called a full day's journey off to settle this _milando_. He
administered _Muavé_[33] and the person vomited, therefore innocence
was clearly established! He came in the evening of the 21st footsore
and tired, and at once gave us some beer. This perpetual reference to
food and drink is natural, inasmuch as it is the most important point
in our intercourse. While the chief was absent we got nothing; the
queen even begged a little meat for her child, who was recovering from
an attack of small-pox. There being no shops we had to sit still
without food. I took observations for longitude, and whiled away the
time by calculating the lunars. Next day the chief gave us a goat
cooked whole and plenty of porridge: I noticed that he too had the
Assyrian type of face.
FOOTNOTES:
[25] Dr. Livingstone's description of the "Sponge" will stand the
reader in good stead when he comes to the constant mention of these
obstructions in the later travels towards the north.--ED.
[26] So named when Dr. Livingstone, Dr. Kirk, and Mr. Charles
Livingstone, discovered Lake Nyassa together.
[27] The sheep are of the black-haired variety: their tails grow to an
enormous size. A rain which came from Nunkajowa, a Waiyau chief, on a
former occasion, was found to have a tail weighing 11 lbs.; but for
the journey, and two or three days short commons, an extra 2 or 3 lbs.
of fat «would have been on it.--ED.
[28] This complaint has not been reported as an African disease
before; it probably clings to the higher levels.--ED.
[29] A fine fibre derived from the shoots of a shrub (_Securidaca
Longipedunculata_).
[30] Several superstitions of this nature seem to point to a remnant
of the old heathen ritual, and the worship of gods in mountain groves.
[31] Hemp = bangé is smoked throughout Central Africa, and if used in
excess produces partial imbecility.--ED.
[32] The Hopo is a funnel-shaped fence which encloses a considerable
tract of country: a "drive" is organised, and animals of all
descriptions are urged on till they become jammed together in the neck
of the hopo, where they are speared to death or else destroyed in a
number of pitfalls placed there for the purpose.
[33] The ordeal poison.