Fighting betimes—Blazing a path—We take an island by storm—A
desperate dilemma—Road-making under fire—A miraculous escape—A
terrible march—Peace by stratagem—Below the Fifth Cataract—Our
cannibal captives—Fighting the Wana-Rukura—The Wana-Rukura
islanders—Approaching the Seventh Cataract—A deserted island—The
Seventh Cataract of the Stanley Falls—The first of the
cataracts—Clear of the Stanley Falls.
_Jan. 5._—At 4 A.M. of the 5th of January we were awake, cooking betimes
the food that was to strengthen us for the task that lay before us,
while the screaming lemur and the soko still alarmed the dark forest
with their weird cries.
We were left undisturbed until 8 A.M. when the canoes of the Mwana Ntaba
were observed to cross over to the left bank, and in response to their
signals the forest behind our camp was soon alive with wild men. Frank
distributed thirty rounds to each of the forty-three guns which now
remained to us. Including my own guns, we possessed only forty-eight
altogether, as Manwa Sera had lost four Sniders in the Ukassa Rapid, and
by the capsizing of the two canoes in the tempest, which struck us as we
crossed the Livingstone below its confluence with the Lowwa, we had lost
four muskets. But more terrible for our enemies than Sniders or muskets
was the courage of despair that now nerved every heart and kept cool and
resolute every head.
By river the cannibals had but little chance of success, and this the
Mwana Ntaba after a very few rounds from our guns discovered; they
therefore allied themselves with the Baswa tribe, which during the night
had crossed over from its islands, below the first falls. Until 10 A.M.
we held our own safely in the camp; but then breaking out of it, we
charged on the foe, and until 3 P.M. were incessantly at work. Ten of
our men received wounds, and two were killed. To prevent them becoming
food for the cannibals, we consigned them to the swift brown flood of
the Livingstone.
The Mwana Ntaba and the Baswas at length retired, and though we
momentarily expected a visit from them each day, for the next two or
three days we were unmolested.
_Jan. 6._—Early on the morning of the 6th I began to explore the First
Cataract of the Stanley Falls. I found a small stream about two hundred
yards wide, separated by a lateral dyke of igneous rocks from the main
stream, which took the boat safely down for a couple of miles. Then
presently other dykes appeared, some mere low narrow ridges of rock and
others, much larger and producing tall trees, inhabited by the Baswa
tribe. Among these islets the left stream rushed down in cascades or
foamy sheets, over low terraces, with a fall of from one foot to ten
feet. The Baswas, no doubt, have recently fled to these islets to seek
refuge from some powerful tribe situated inland west of the river.
The main stream, 900 yards wide, rushed towards the east-north-east,
and, after a mile of rapids, tilted itself against a hilly ridge that
lay north and south, the crest of which was probably 300 feet above the
river. With my glass, from the fork of a tree twenty feet above the
ground, I saw at once that a descent by the right side was an
impossibility, as the waves were enormous, and the slope so great that
the river’s face was all a foam; and that at the base of the hilly ridge
which obstructed its course the river seemed piling itself into a watery
bank, whence it escaped into a scene of indescribable confusion down to
the horror of whirling pools, and a mad confluence of tumbling rushing
waters. It was now quite easy to understand why our friends the Kankoré
people, in attempting to illustrate the scene at the First Cataract,
placed one hand overlapping the other—they meant to say that the water,
driven with impetuosity against the hill, rose up and overlapped the
constant flow from the steep slope.
I decided, therefore, to go down along the left stream, overland, and to
ascertain the best route, I took eight men with me, leaving five men to
guard the boat. Within two hours we had explored the jungle, and
“blazed” a path below the falls—a distance of two miles.
Then returning to camp I sent Frank off with a detachment of fifty men
with axes, to clear the path, and a musket-armed guard of fifteen men,
to be stationed in the woods parallel with the projected land route,
and, leaving a guard of twenty men to protect the camp, I myself rowed
up river along the left bank, a distance of three miles. Within a bend,
a mile above our camp, I discovered a small black-water river, about
forty yards wide, issuing from the southwest, which I named Black River,
from the colour of its water. Two miles above this, the affluent Lumami,
which Livingstone calls “Young’s River,” entered the great stream, by a
mouth 600 yards wide, between low banks densely covered with trees. At
noon I took an observation of the sun—the declination of which being
south gave me a clear water horizon—and ascertained it to be south
latitude 0° 32′ 0″.
_Jan. 7._—By noon of the 7th, having descended with the canoes as near
as prudence would permit to the first fall of the left stream, we were
ready for hauling the canoes overland. A road, fifteen feet in width,
had been cut through the tangle of rattan, palms, vines, creepers and
brushwood, tolerably straight except where great forest monarchs stood
untouched, and whatever brushwood had been cut from the jungle had been
laid across the road in thick piles. A rude camp had also been
constructed half-way on the river side of the road, into which
everything was conveyed. By 8 A.M. we had hauled the canoes over one
mile of ground.
_Jan. 8._—The next day, while the people were still fresh, we buckled on
to the canoes and by 3 P.M. of the 8th had passed the falls and rapids
of the First Cataract, and were afloat in a calm creek between Baswa
Island and the left bank!
Not wishing to stay in such a dangerous locality longer than was
absolutely necessary, we re-embarked, and descending cautiously down the
creek, came in a short time to the great river, with every prospect of a
good stretch of serene water. But soon we heard the roar of another
cataract, and had to hug the left bank closely. Then we entered other
creeks, which wound lazily by jungle-covered islets, and after two miles
of meanderings among most dismal islands and banks, emerged in view of
the great river, with the cataract’s roar sounding solemnly and terribly
near. As it was near evening, and our position was extremely unpleasant,
we resolved to encamp for the night at an island which lay in mid-
stream. Meanwhile, we heard drums and war-horns sounding on the left
bank, and though the islanders also responded to them, of the two evils
it was preferable to risk an encounter with the people of the island
rather than with those of the main, until we could discover our
whereabouts. We had no time for consultation, or even thought—the
current was swift, and the hoarse roar of the Second Cataract was more
sonorous than that of the first, thundering into our affrighted ears
that, if we were swept over, destruction, sudden and utter, awaited us.
The islanders were hostilely alert and ready, but, spurred on by our
terror of the falls, we drove our vessels straight on to the bank, about
500 feet above the falling water. In fifteen minutes we had formed a
rude camp, and enclosed it by a slight brushwood fence, while the
islanders, deserting the island, crossed over to their howling, yelling
friends on the left bank. In a small village close to our camp we found
an old lady, of perhaps sixty-five years of age, who was troubled with a
large ulcer in her foot, and had therefore been unable to escape. She
was a very decent creature, and we carried her to our camp, where, by
dressing her foot and paying her kind attentions, we succeeded in making
her very communicative. But Katembo could understand only very few words
of her speech, which proved to me that we were rapidly approaching lands
where no dialect that we knew would be available.
We managed to learn, however, that the name of the island was Cheandoah,
or Kewandoah, of the Baswa tribe; that the howling savages on the left
bank were the renowned Bukumu—cannibals, and most warlike; that the
Bakumu used bows and arrows, and were the tribe that had driven the
Baswa long ago to seek refuge on these islands. When we asked her the
name of the river she said Lumami was the name of the left branch, and
the Lowwa of the right branch. She gave the word Kukeya as indicating
the left bank, and Ngyeyeh for the right bank. Waki-biano, she said, was
the name of the large island which we had passed when we saw the
villages of the Baswa below the first cataract. The words Ubi, or
Eybiteri, we understood her to employ for the Falls as being utterly
impassable.
_Jan. 9._—During the morning of the 9th we explored the island of
Cheandoah, which was much longer than we at first supposed. It was
extremely populous, and contained five villages. We discovered an
abundance of spears here and ironware of all kinds used by the natives,
such as knives, hammers, hatchets, tweezers, anvils of iron, or, in
other words, inverted hammers, borers, hole-burners, fish-hooks, darts,
iron rods; all the spears possessed broad points, and were the first of
this style I had seen. Almost all the knives, large and small, were
encased [Illustration: A BASWA KNIFE.] in sheaths of wood covered with
goat-skin, and ornamented with polished iron bands. They varied in size,
from a butcher’s cleaver to a lady’s dirk, and belts of undressed
goatskin, of red buffalo or antelope hide, were attached to them for
suspension from the shoulders. There were also seen here iron bells,
like our cow and goat bells, [Illustration: STYLE OF KNIVES.] curiously
carved whistles, fetishes or idols of wood, uncouth and rudely cut
figures of human beings, brightly painted in vermilion, alternating with
black; baskets made of palm fibre, large wooden and dark clay pipes,
iron rings for arms and legs, numerous treasures of necklaces of the
_Achatina monetaria_, the black seeds of a species of plantain, and the
crimson berries of the _Abrus precatorius_; copper, iron, and wooden
pellets. [Illustration: BASWA BASKET AND COVER.] The houses were all of
the gable-roofed pattern which we had first noticed on the summit of the
hills on which Riba-Riba, Manyema, is situate; the shields of the Baswa
were also after the same type.
The vegetation of the island consisted of almost every variety of plant
and tree found in this region, and the banana, plantain, castor-oil,
sugar-cane, cassava, and maize flourished; nor must the oil-palm be
forgotten, for there were great jars of its dark-red butter in many
houses.
The grand problem now before me was how to steer clear of the Bukumu
savages of the left bank, whose shouts and fierce yells came pealing to
our ears, and were heard even above the roar and tremendous crash of the
cataract. As I travelled round the island, many desperate ideas
suggested themselves to me, and if I had been followed by a hundred
practised and daring men it might have been possible to have dragged the
canoes the length of the island past the first terrace of the cataract,
and, after dashing across to Ntunduru Island, to have dragged them
through its jungle and risked the falls by Asama Island; but there were
not thirty men in the entire Expedition capable of listening to orders
and implicitly obeying instructions.
[Illustration: THE DESPERATE SITUATION OF ZAIDI, AND HIS RESCUE BY
ULEDI, THE COXSWAIN OF THE BOAT.]
To the east of Cheandoah the right branch was again forked by another
island, and the whole face of the river was wild beyond description, and
the din of its furious waves stunning; while the western branch, such
was its force, went rushing down a terrace, and then swept round in an
extensive whirlpool with a central depression quite eighteen inches
below the outer rim. We pushed a rotten and condemned canoe above the
fall, watched it shoot down like an arrow, and circle round that
terrible whirling pool, and the next instant saw it drawn in by that
dreadful suction, and presently ejected stern foremost 30 yards below.
Close to the bank were nooks and basin-like formations in the trap
rocks, in which every now and again the water became strongly agitated,
and receding about twelve inches, would heave upwards with a rushing and
gurgling that was awful.
_Jan. 10._—There was only one way to resolve the problem, and that was
to meet the Bakumu and dare their worst, and then to drag the canoes
through the dense forest on the left bank. Accordingly, we prepared for
what we felt assured would be a stubborn contest. At early dawn of the
10th of January, with quick throbbing pulses, we stole up river for
about a mile, and then with desperate haste dashed across to the shore,
where we became immediately engaged. We floated down to the bend just
above the cataract, and there secured our boats and canoes out of the
influence of the stream. Leaving Frank with eight musketeers and sixty
axes to form a stockade, I led thirty-six men in a line through the
bushes, and drove the united Baswa and Bakumu backward to their
villages, the first of which were situated a mile from the river. Here a
most determined stand was made by them, for they had piled up heaps of
brushwood, and cut down great trees to form defences, leaving only a few
men in front. We crept through the jungle on the south side and
succeeded in forcing an entrance, and driving them out. We had thus won
peace for this day, and retreated to our camp. We then divided the
Expedition into two parties, or relays, one to work by night, the other
by day, after which I took a picked body of pioneers with axes and guns
and cut a narrow path three miles in length, which brought us opposite
Ntunduru Island, blazing the trees as a guide, and forming rude camps at
intervals of half a mile. Material—dried palm branches and bundles of
cane smeared over with gum frankincense—was also brought from the
village to form lights for the working parties at night: these were to
be fastened at elevated positions on trees to illuminate the jungle.
_Jan. 11._—We were not further disturbed during this day. In the evening
Frank began his work with fifty axemen, and ten men as scouts deployed
in the bushes in front of the working parties. Before dawn we were all
awakened, and, making a rush with the canoes, succeeded in safely
reaching our first camp by 9 A.M. with all canoes and baggage. During
the passage of the rear-guard the Bakumu made their presence known to us
by a startling and sudden outburst of cries; but the scouts immediately
replied to them with their rifles, and maintained their position until
they were supported by the other armed men, who were now led forward as
on the day before. We chased the savages two miles inland, to other
villages which we had not hitherto seen, and these also we compelled
them to abandon.
_Jan. 12._—In the evening, Frank, who had enjoyed but a short rest
during the day, manfully set to work again, and by dawn had prepared
another three-quarters of a mile of road. At 10 A.M. of the 12th, by
another rush forward, we were in our second camp. During this day also
there was a slight interchange of hostilities, but, being soon released
from the savages, the day party was able to prepare half a mile of good
road, which Frank during the night was able to extend to a mile and a
quarter. By 5 P.M. of the 13th therefore we were safe in our third camp.
Excepting Kachéché and a few men detailed as sentries, we all rested for
this night, but in the morning, refreshed from our labours, made the
fourth and final rush, and thus, after seventy-eight hours’ terrific
exertion, succeeded in reaching the welcome river and launching our
canoes.
The Bakumu, utterly disheartened by their successive punishments and bad
success, left us alone to try our hands at the river, which, though
dangerous, promised greater progress than on land. The following two
days’ accounts of our journey are extracted from my journal:—
“_January 14._—As soon as we reached the river we began to float the
canoes down a two-mile stretch of rapids to a camp opposite the south
end of Ntunduru Island. Six canoes were taken safely down by the
gallant boat’s crew. The seventh canoe was manned by Muscati, Uledi
Muscati, and Zaidi, a chief. Muscati, the steersman, lost his presence
of mind, and soon upset his canoe in a piece of bad water. Muscati and
his friend Uledi swam down the furious stream to Ntunduru Island,
whence they were saved by the eighth canoe, manned by stout-hearted
Manwa Sera, and Uledi, the coxswain of the Lady Alice; but poor Zaidi,
the chief, paralysed by the roar of the stream, unfortunately thought
his safety was assured by clinging to his canoe, which was soon swept
past our new camp, in full view of those who had been deputed with
Frank to form it, to what seemed inevitable death. But a kindly
Providence (which he has since, himself gratefully acknowledged) saved
him even on the brink of eternity. The great fall at the north end of
Ntunduru Island happens to be disparted by a single pointed rock, and
on this the canoe was driven, and, borne down by the weight of the
waters, was soon split in two, one side of which got jammed below, and
the other was tilted upward. To this the almost drowned man clung,
while perched on the rocky point, with his ankles washed by the
stream. To his left, as he faced up-stream, there was a stretch of 50
yards of falling water; to his right were nearly fifty yards of
leaping brown waves, while close behind him the water fell down sheer
six to eight feet, through a gap 10 yards wide, between the rocky
point on which he was perched and a rocky islet 30 yards long.
“When called to the scene by his weeping friends, from my labours
upriver, I could scarcely believe my eyes, or realise the strange
chance which placed him there, and, certainly, a more critical
position than the poor fellow was in cannot be imagined. The words
‘there is only a step between me and the grave’ would have been very
appropriate coming from him. But the solitary man on that narrow-
pointed rock, whose knees were sometimes washed by rising waves, was
apparently calmer than any of us; though we could approach him within
fifty yards he could not hear a word we said; he could see us, and
feel assured that we sympathised with him in his terrible position.
“We then, after collecting our faculties, began to prepare means to
save him. After sending men to collect rattans, we formed a cable, by
which we attempted to lower a small canoe, but the instant it seemed
to reach him the force of the current hurrying to the fall was so
great that the cable snapped like pack-thread, and the canoe swept by
him like an arrow, and was engulfed, shattered, split, and pounded
into fragments. Then we endeavoured to toss towards him poles tied to
creepers, but the vagaries of the current and its convulsive heaving
made it impossible to reach him with them, while the man dared not
move a hand, but sat silent, watching our futile efforts, while the
conviction gradually settled on our minds that his doom, though
protracted, was certain.
“Then, after anxious deliberation with myself, I called for another
canoe, and lashed to the bow of it a cable consisting of three one-
inch rattans twisted together and strengthened by all the tent ropes.
A similar cable was lashed to the side, and a third was fastened to
the stern, each of these cables being 90 yards in length. A shorter
cable, 30 yards long, was lashed to the stern of the canoe, which was
to be guided within reach of him by a man in the canoe.
“Two volunteers were called for. No one would step forward. I offered
rewards. Still no one would respond. But when I began to speak to
them, asking them how they would like to be in such a position without
a single friend offering to assist in saving them, Uledi, the
coxswain, came forward and said, ‘Enough, master, I will go. Mambu Kwa
Mungu’—‘My fate is in the hands of God’—and immediately began
preparing himself, by binding his loincloth firmly about his waist.
Then Marzouk, a boat-boy, said, ‘Since Uledi goes, I will go too.’
Other boat-boys, young Shumari and Saywa, offered their services, but
I checked them, and said, ‘You surely are not tired of me, are you,
that you all wish to die? If all my brave boat-boys are lost, what
shall we do?’
“Uledi and his friend Marzouk stepped into the canoe with the air of
gladiators, and we applauded them heartily, but enjoined on them to be
careful. Then I turned to the crowd on the shore who were manning the
cables, and bade them beware of the least carelessness, as the lives
of the three young men depended on their attention to the orders that
would be given.
“The two young volunteers were requested to paddle across river, so
that the stern might be guided by those on shore. The bow and side
cables were slackened until the canoe was within twenty yards of the
roaring falls, and Uledi endeavoured to guide the cable to Zaidi, but
the convulsive heaving of the river swept the canoe instantly to one
side, where it hovered over the steep slope and brown waves of the
left branch, from the swirl of which we were compelled to draw it.
Five times the attempt was made, but at last, the sixth time,
encouraged by the safety of the cables, we lowered the canoe until it
was within ten yards of Zaidi, and Uledi lifted the short cable and
threw it over to him and struck his arm. He had just time to grasp it
before he was carried over into the chasm below. For thirty seconds we
saw nothing of him, and thought him lost, when his head rose above the
edge of the falling waters. Instantly the word was given to ‘haul
away,’ but at the first pull the bow and side cables parted, and the
canoe began to glide down the left branch with my two boat-boys on
board! The stern cable next parted, and, horrified at the result, we
stood muttering ‘La il Allah, il Allah,’ watching the canoe severed
from us drifting to certain destruction, when we suddenly observed it
halted. Zaidi in the chasm clinging to his cable was acting as a
kedge-anchor, which swept the canoe, against the rocky islet. Uledi
and Marzouk sprang out of the canoe, and leaning over assisted Zaidi
out of the falls, and the three, working with desperate energy,
succeeded in securing the canoe on the islet.
“But though we hurrahed and were exceedingly rejoiced, their position
was still but a short reprieve from death. There were fifty yards of
wild waves, and a resistless rush of water, between them and safety,
and to the right of them was a fall 300 yards in width, and below was
a mile of falls and rapids, and great whirlpools, and waves rising
like little hills in the middle of the terrible stream, and below
these were the fell cannibals of Wane-Mukwa and Asama.
“How to reach the islet was a question which now perplexed me. We tied
a stone to about a hundred yards of whipcord, and after the twentieth
attempt they managed to catch it. To the end of the whipcord they tied
the tent rope which had parted before, and drawing it to our side we
tied the stout rattan creeper, which they drew across taut, and
fastened to a rock, by which we thought we had begun to bridge the
stream. But night drawing nigh, we said to them that we would defer
further experiment until morning.
“Meantime the ninth canoe, whose steersman was a supernumerary of the
boat, had likewise got upset, and he out of six men was drowned, to
our great regret, but the canoe was saved. All other vessels were
brought down safely, but so long as my poor faithful Uledi and his
friends are on the islet, and still in the arms of death, the night
finds us gloomy, sorrowing and anxious.
“_January 15._—My first duty this morning was to send greetings to the
three brave lads on the islet, and to assure them that they should be
saved before they were many hours older. Thirty men with guns were
sent to protect thirty other men searching for rattans in the forest,
and by nine o’clock we possessed over sixty strong canes, besides
other long climbers, and as fast as we were able to twist them
together they were drawn across by Uledi and his friends. Besides, we
sent light cables to be lashed round the waist of each man, after
which we felt trebly assured that all accidents were guarded against.
Then hailing them I motioned to Uledi to begin, while ten men seized
the cable, one end of which he had fastened round his waist. Uledi was
seen to lift his hands up to heaven, and waving his hand to us he
leapt into the wild flood, seizing the bridge cable as he fell into
the depths. Soon he rose, hauling himself hand over hand, the waves
brushing his face, and sometimes rising over his head, until it seemed
as if he scarcely would be able to breathe, but by jerking his body
occasionally upward with a desperate effort, he so managed to survive
the waves and to approach us, where a dozen willing hands were
stretched out to snatch the half-smothered man. Zaidi next followed,
but after the tremendous proofs he had given of his courage and
tenacious hold we did not much fear for his safety, and he also
landed, to be warmly congratulated for his double escape from death.
Marzouk, the youngest, was the last, and we held our breaths while the
gallant boy was struggling out of the fierce grasp of death. While yet
midway the pressure of water was so great that he lost his hold of two
cables, at which the men screamed in terror lest he should relax his
hold altogether from despair, but I shouted harshly to him, ‘Pull
away, you fool. Be a man,’ at which with three hauls he approached
within reach of our willing hands, to be embraced and applauded by
all. The cheers we gave were so loud and hearty that the cannibal
Wane-Mukwa must have known, despite the roar of the waters, that we
had passed through a great and thrilling scene.”
At the northern end of Ntunduru Island four separate branches rushing
down from between Cheandoah and its neighbours unite, and their united
waters tumble into one huge boiling, heaving cauldron, wherein mounds of
water are sometimes lifted upward, and are hurled down several feet with
tremendous uproar, along an island between Ntunduru and Asama. The
distance is only about a mile and a half, and the breadth is but 500
yards, but it presents one of the wildest water scenes conceivable.
To avoid this terrific locality, it was now necessary to cut a road,
nearly three miles in length, to the quiet creek flowing between Asama
Island and the left bank. Spurs from inland like “hogs’ backs,” which
projected into that boiling gulf, compelled us to make detours, which,
though they lengthened our toil, rendered the transport of our vessels
overland much easier. Minute red ants covered every leaf of the shrubby
Asclepiadæ, and attacked the pioneers so furiously that their backs were
soon blistered, while my scalp smarted as though wounded with a steel
comb. A species of burr-bearing and tall spear-grass, which covered what
formerly must have been inhabited ground, also tormented us. The men,
however, on approaching this ground, armed themselves with heavy sticks,
marched steadily in line, and beat down the growth before them, thus
forming a road 30 feet in width. By night we were only a few hundred
yards from the creek.
_Jan. 16, 17._—In order to prevent the cannibals of Asama Island and the
Wané-Mukwa from being aware of our purpose, we returned to our camp
opposite Ntunduru Island, and during the 16th and 17th of January were
employed in dragging our canoes to the end of the road, perfectly
screened from observation by the tall wild grass and shrubs. Though
fearfully tired after this steady strain on our energies, an hour before
dawn we rose, and, arming ourselves with poles, crushed through the
remaining 300 yards of grass by sunrise.
The people of Asama Island soon roused one another with most heroic and
stunning crashes on their huge drums, and launched their war-canoes, of
which they had a great number, excellently built; but as our existence
depended upon our dash, twenty men only were reserved to guard the road,
while Frank and Manwa Sera, with the assistance of every other healthy
man, woman, and child, hauled the canoes to the landing-place. Though
the Asamas made but little resistance to our embarking, they attacked us
as soon as we began to move with a frenzy which, had it not been so
perilous to our poor hunted selves, I might have heartily applauded. I
had recourse to a little strategy. Manwa Sera was told to loiter behind
with one-half of the canoes and land his party on the island above,
while I made a bold push at the savages and landed below. We in the
advance at once charged on the war-canoes, shouting and drumming, and
making up in noise what we lacked in numbers, and having descended a
mile, suddenly made for the island at a low landing-place, and while the
savages were confused at this manœuvre I detached twenty men and sent
them up to meet Manwa Sera and his party, and in a short time they had
captured two villages, with all the non-combatant inhabitants, besides a
large herd of goats and sheep. When these were brought to the landing-
place where the war-canoes were still engaged with us, they were shown
to the warriors, and out of sheer surprise hostilities ceased, and the
war canoes retired to the left bank of the stream to consider what they
should do. Meantime Katembo was industrious in making himself understood
by the women, and we made great progress in calming their fears, but we
did not quite succeed until I opened a bag of shells, and distributed a
few to each person with appropriate soothing tones. The Asamas opposite,
though still sullen in their canoes, were not disinterested spectators
of what was transpiring, and they were soon communicating with their
relatives and children, asking what we were doing. While my people were
busy surrounding the landing-place with a brushwood fence, the
negotiations for peace and goodwill proceeded. At noon a canoe with two
men cautiously approached us, and while it was still hesitating to
comply with our request to come alongside, one of my boat-boys
dexterously grasped it and brought it near, while the word “Sennenneh”
was loudly repeated. Into this as a beginning we put six women, three
children, and some goats, and shoved it off towards the cannibal
warriors, who could scarcely believe their senses until the canoe was
safe in their hands. Then it seemed as though their sullenness was
conquered, for presently five men and a chief approached, who likewise,
receiving presents of shells and a few pieces of cloth, entered
zealously into the strangely formed compact of peace, and sealed it by
permitting themselves to be inoculated with the blood of the Wangwana in
small incisions made in the arms. Every captive, every goat and fowl was
religiously surrendered, while shouts of applause from both parties rent
the air.
It could not be expected, of course, that they should feel at once like
old friends after the fury of the early morning, but sunset found some
dozens of men in our camp without arms in their hands, responding as
well as they were able to our numerous queries about the geography of
the country. Our people also traversed the southern end of the island
with perfect confidence, and neither side had cause to regret having
become friends.
Human skulls ornamented the village streets of the island, while a great
many thigh-bones and ribs and vertebræ lay piled at a garbage corner,
bleached witnesses of their hideous carnivorous tastes. Like the
Waregga, the Asama wore caps of lemur, monkey, otter, goat, red buffalo
and antelope skin, with long strips of fur or the tails dropped behind.
Palms, bananas, cassava, red pepper, maize, and sugar-cane flourished;
their houses were large, though not so neat as those at Vinya-Njara.
Fish-nets and baskets lay scattered around in abundance, while great
bundles of iron and wooden spears proved that the Asamas were as warlike
as they were industrious.
The islanders were not ungrateful, for they supplied us, by order of the
chief, with sufficient bananas to settle our canoes deeply in the water,
which proved that, provided one were well able to defend oneself, and
were his superior in force, even a cannibal could show that he was
possessed of human qualities.
_Jan. 19._—On the 19th we resumed our voyage, gliding down the stream
that flowed between Asama Island and the left bank. The river’s course
had continued a (magnetic) north-north-easterly course ever since we had
left the confluence of the Leopold with the Livingstone, which caused
serious doubts in my mind for a time as to whether my boiling-points
might not be in error. It certainly caused me to believe that
Livingstone’s hypothesis is correct after all, though the great river
itself, by its vast magnitude, breadth, and depth, was a decided protest
against such a proposition.
At the foot of the Fifth Cataract, which fell at the south end of Asama
Island, the altitude of the river was about 1630 feet above the
ocean—after Kew corrections—and we were in about south latitude 0° 23′
0″, just 270 geographical miles south of where the Nile was known to
have an altitude of 1525 feet above the sea. The river, at a stage where
I expected to see it at least incline to the west, ran due north-north-
east.
Four soundings were obtained during the forenoon of the 19th: 33 feet,
40 feet, 47 feet, and 41 feet respectively, where the left branch flowed
at the rate of about two knots an hour past Asama.
The left bank rose from the low swampy level to beautiful bluffs, 60,
80, and 100 feet high, garnished with a magnificent forest of tall
trees, amid which were frequently seen the Elais, wild date, and Hyphene
palms.
North of Asama the river widened to the stately breadth of 2000 yards.
On the right were the Wané-Mpungu and the Wané-Kipanga tribes, but I was
told by one of the Asama islanders that they were inland people of
Uregga. I have been struck with the similarity of some of these names
with those given me by Rumanika of Karagwé. For instance, one of the
native names—Mikonju—of the Leopold River. Might not the man who gave us
the information have intended it for a tribe called Wakonju—people of
Ukonju—who, according to Rumanika, were cannibals, and occupied a
country west of Muta-Nzigé? The “Wané-Mpungu” has a remarkable
resemblance to the Mpundu, described by the same authority.
In about south latitude 14′ we discovered a small river 40 yards wide at
the mouth entering the Livingstone from the left bank, nearly opposite
Kyya Kamba Island.
In the afternoon we passed several old settlements, which were probably
abandoned because of the Wakumu, who are the great dread of this section
on both banks. One of these old settlements is called Kyyo Kaba. Just
below on the right bank, opposite Kanjebé Islands, is Aruko country, a
district of Uregga, and on the left is Wandeiwa, separated from Kyyo
Kaba by a small sluggish creek 20 yards wide.
We camped on the night of the 19th on the right bank in what we believed
to be a market-place. The green was inviting, the trees were
patriarchal, the forest at the hour approaching sunset was lonely, and
we flattered ourselves that before the next sun was sufficiently high to
cause the natives to appear at the market-place, we should have
departed. I also flattered myself that I was tolerably well acquainted
with the arts of savages, but my astonishment was very great to find
myself but a novice after all, for in the morning one of my people came
to inform me, with a grave face, that we were netted!
“Netted,” I said. “What do you mean?”
“True, master; there is a tall high net round the camp from above to
below, and the net is made of cord.”
“Ah, if there is a net, there must be men behind waiting to spear the
game.”
I called Manwa Sera, and gave him thirty men, ordering him to pull up
river half a mile or so, and after penetrating into the woods behind our
camp, to lie in wait near some path which led to the market-place on
which we were encamped. After waiting an hour to give the men time, we
blew a loud blast on the horn as a signal, and sent four men with
shields to cut the net, while ten men with guns, and thirty men with
spears, stood by ready to observe what happened. While the net was being
cut, four or five heavy spears came hurtling from the bushes. We fired
at random into the bushes, and made a rush forward, and saw several
forms run swiftly away from the vicinity of the camp. Soon I heard a few
of my men utter sharp screams, and saw them hop away, with blood
streaming from their feet, while they cried, “Keep away from the path”;
“Get away from the road.”
Upon examining the paths we discovered that each bristled with sharp-
pointed splinters of the Pennisetum reed-cane, which had pierced the
men’s feet to the bone. However, the ambuscade had been very successful,
and had captured eight of the Wané-Mpungu without an accident or the
firing of a shot. The savages were not unpleasant to look at, though the
prejudices of our people made them declare that they smelled the flesh
of dead men when they caught hold of their legs and upset them in the
road! Each man’s upper row of teeth was filed, and on their foreheads
were two curved rows of tattoo-marks; the temples were also punctured.
Katembo questioned them, and they confessed that they lay in wait for
man-meat. They informed us that the people inland were Waregga, but that
the Wakumu, coming from the eastward, were constantly in the habit of
fighting the Waregga; that the Waregga were black, like the Wané-Mpungu,
but that the Bakumu were light-complexioned, like a light-coloured
native of Zanzibar whom they pointed to. The captives also declared that
their village was an hour’s journey from the camp, that they ate old men
and old women, as well as every stranger captured in the woods. Our
three asses seemed to awe them greatly, and when one of them was led up
to the asses he begged so imploringly that we would be merciful that we
relented. We obtained considerable amusement from them; but at 9 A.M. we
embarked them in our canoes to show us the falls, which they said we
should meet after four hours’ journey.
We struck across river to the left bank, which was high and steep. An
hour afterwards we saw rounded hills on both banks approaching each
other; but our guides said there was no danger at Kabombo, as they were
called. Still hugging the left bank, we presently came to a curious
cavern in a smooth water-worn porphyry rock, which penetrated about a
hundred feet within. At first I thought it to be the work of human
hands, but examination of it proved that in old times there had extended
a ledge of this porphyry rock nearly across river, and that this cavern
had been formed by whirling eddies. At the farther end there are three
modes of exit to the high ground above. Some natives had scrawled
fantastic designs, squares and cones, on the smooth face of the rock,
and, following their example, I printed as high as I could reach the
title of our Expedition and date of discovery, which will no doubt be
religiously preserved by the natives as a memento of the white man and
his people who escaped being eaten while passing through their country.
Two miles below we came to some rocky straits and the ten islets of
Kabombo. The current ran through these at the rate of about five knots
an hour, but, excepting a few eddies, there was nothing to render the
passage difficult. Down to this point the course of the great river had
been north-east, north-north-east, and east-north-east, but below it
sheered to north. On our right now began the large country of Koruru,
and on our left Yambarri.[11]
-----
Footnote 11:
Colonel Long, of the Egyptian army, on his way to the Nyam-Nyam
country, in 1874, met with a tribe called the Yanbari, in about 5°
north latitude.
-----
We descended rapidly for two miles down the river, here about two
thousand yards wide, after which the hoarse murmur of falls was again
heard. Our cannibal guides warned us not to venture near the left bank,
and, relying on their information, we approached the Sixth Cataract
along the right bank, and camped not four hundred yards from an island
densely inhabited by a tribe of the Waregga called Wana-Rukura.
[Illustration: CAVERN, NEAR KABOMBO ISLANDS.]
We here released our cannibal guides, and surrendered their weapons to
them. They availed themselves of their liberty by instantly running
along the river bank up the river. We were not long left unmolested in
our jungle camp, for while we were still engaged in constructing a
stockade, war-cries, horns, and drums announced the approach of the
ever-fierce aborigines; and in a short time we were hotly engaged. In an
hour we had driven them away. Following them up rapidly a little
distance we came to a large village, where we discovered three or four
women well advanced in years, and, in order to obtain information of the
country and its inhabitants, conveyed them to camp, where we began to
practise such arts of conciliation and kindness as calm and soothe the
fears of excited captives, and which had been so successful up river.
We had hardly returned to camp before a larger force—the inhabitants of
the islands—appeared in head-dresses of parrot-feathers, and skull-caps
of civet, squirrel, goat, and “soko,” and with a bold confidence born of
ignorance made a rush upon the stockade. The attack was promptly
repelled, and in turn we attacked, driving the savages back step by
step, and following them to a creek about fifty yards wide, into which
they sprang to swim to their island. Two of the wounded warriors we
caught and conveyed to our camp, where their wounds were dressed, and
other attentions paid to them, which were much appreciated by them.
The pioneers were during the afternoon engaged in cutting a broad road
to the creek past the first fall, and by sunset our canoes and boat were
dragged out of the river into the stockade, ready for transport
overland.
_Jan. 20._—The morning of the 20th was occupied in hauling our vessels
into the creek, which the flying Waregga islanders had first shown to
us, and, by desperate labour, the whole Expedition was able to move from
the right bank across the creek to the island.
During the night the Wana-Rukura had abandoned the large island at its
northern end, and thus we were left happily undisturbed in our
occupation of it to obtain a few hours’ deserved rest.
_Jan. 23._—The Sixth Cataract is caused by a broad dyke of greenish
shale, projecting from the base of the tall bluffs on the left bank of
the river. Being of many thin strata, the current has succeeded in
quarrying frequent gaps through it, one of which on the left side, where
the current is greatest, and the scene of raging waters wildest, is very
deep and wide. Nearer the right bank the cataract has more the aspect of
furious rapids; and a narrow branch has been formed between the numerous
Wana-Rukura islets and the right bank, which drops over a dozen low
terraces from 6 inches to 2 feet, and a series of shallow rapids for a
distance of six miles, when it has reached the level of the main river
below the Sixth Cataract. By noon of the 23rd we had succeeded in
clearing this cataract without loss of life or serious accident.
We were very patient with our captives, and succeeded in inducing them
to be communicative, but unhappily we understood but little of what they
so volubly imparted to us. But what we did learn was interesting.
They had heard of Ruanda, and indicated for it an east-north-east
direction; and also of the Wakombeh, or Wabembé, cannibals, who occupy
the country between Goma and Uvira, and most certainly a large tract
north-north-west from Tanganika. The Bakumu were the tribe that had
first attacked us, of which the four middle-aged females from the
village of Wati-Kytzya were representatives. They were much lighter-
coloured than the Wana-Rukura islanders. I feel convinced that these
Bakumu must be a branch of the Wanya-Ruanda, for they have a great many
of those facial Ethiopic characteristics which elevate that great nation
above the ordinary negroid type. Ukumu is said to extend very far to the
east, and must therefore lie between Northern and Southern Uregga. The
king is said to be called Sarindi, and his village was pointed out as
being east. The negative “Nangu,” which the women employed, is the same
as that used by the natives of Ruanda, Unyoro, Usongora, Uzongora,
Wanyambu, Watusi, and Wakerewé.
“Ubingi” signified rapid river with the Waregga, Bakumu, and Baswa
tribes; and “Chare-reh” means the gentle flow of water. The word
“Mavira” with the Waregga is used to denote rocks; while the Bakumu,
Baswa, Southern Waregga, Wabwiré, and Wenya employ the word “Matari.”
Two miles below the Sixth Cataract of the Stanley Falls we came to a bit
of bad water; but, after successfully passing it, we halted an hour on
the right bank to discharge the captives who belonged to the Wana-Rukura
tribe and the Bakumu. The two wounded warriors had behaved very
patiently during their four days’ stay with us, and were progressing
favourably. Meanwhile we had employed every leisure hour in endeavouring
to master the rudiments of their language, and I had obtained a list of
nearly two hundred words from them, with which, if the people below
spoke it, we might be able to communicate a little with them.
At noon of January 20, we landed on the first island of the Wana-Rukura,
and found the south latitude, by solar observation, 0° 2′ 0″. Noon of
the 23rd, having meanwhile passed the Sixth Cataract, we found ourselves
four miles north of the Equator by observation.
Three miles below the rapids we passed a small river about thirty yards
wide entering the Livingstone between high banks, and soon after the
right and left bank, rising up to hills, approached each other within
seven hundred yards, and there seemed to be every prospect of another
cataract. As we rushed through the straits, I dropped the lead with
twenty fathoms of line into the river, but found no bottom, but I could
not repeat the experiment, as the rapidity of the current compelled me
to be mindful of my course, and everybody in the canoes was trusting to
my guidance.
At ten miles north of the Equator, below the straits, we crossed to the
left bank, and occupied the village of Utikera, the sole inhabitant
remaining being one very reserved old man. Utikera is situated opposite
the three rocky islands of Mikuna. I suspect this settlement was
abandoned because of some war that had taken place between them and some
more powerful tribes down river, for according to all appearance the
people must have left several days previously. Indeed the old man as
much as indicated this, though we were not certain that we understood
him. The village was large, and constructed after the pattern of those
up-river already described.
_Jan. 24._—On the 24th we halted to repair the boat and canoes, and the
next day resumed our journey. The course of the Livingstone from the
Sixth Cataract to the straits near Utikera had been north-north-west; it
now ran north-west by west, with a breadth of 2000 yards. We preferred
the right bank again, and soon entered a deep branch between a long and
exceedingly picturesque island and a low shore, edged with mangrove
brushwood. When about halfway, we heard the hoarse rumble of rapids on
the left branch, but the right was undisturbed. The island we discovered
to be about ten miles in length, and soon after passing three small
islands the roar of the seventh and last cataract of the Stanley Falls
burst upon our ears with a tremendous crash.
It was soon evident that the vicinity of the last fall was as thickly
peopled as any of the Stanley series, for the sonorous boom of the great
war-drums was soon heard mustering every stray and loitering fisherman
from the creeks, and every hunter from the woods that clothed the bank,
to the war. While I wondered at the senseless hate and ferocity which
appeared to animate these primitive aborigines, we were compelled to
adopt speedy measures for defence and security; for these people, if
confident in numbers, do not require much time to snatch up their spears
and shields and rush to the fight. Accordingly, dropping down as near to
the first line of broken water as prudence would permit me, we seized
upon a position in the dense forest, and, posting the riflemen in a
crescent form in our front, busied ourselves as usual with axes in
heaping up a high and dense wall of brushwood for our protection. By the
time this had been completed, the Wenya were on us with a determined
impetuosity that would have been fatal to us had we been taken
unprepared. Again and again they tried to break through the concealed
musketeers, but they were utterly unable to pierce within view of our
camp. The loud notes of their war-horns, of which they seemed to possess
an unusual number, rang through the forest with wailing notes, and the
great drums at the numerous villages which commanded the narrows through
which the great river precipitated itself, responded with energy to the
signals transmitted to them.
At sunset they abandoned the unavailing assault, and, to guard against
any nocturnal surprise, we piled up more brushwood, and drew the boat
and canoes out of the water on land. I resolved to make a bold stroke
early next morning, and by appearing in front of their villages before
cockcrow, to occupy some place near the falls which would enable Frank
and a few of the chiefs to begin transporting the vessels overland, and
to continue the work even though we might be actively engaged by the
Wenya.
_Jan. 25._—At 5 A.M. I led thirty-five men from the camp, and after a
desperate struggle through the tangled jungle emerged near the place
where the right bank swept round to the straits, over and above which a
large number of villages were situated. A shallow branch, 40 yards wide,
supplied by thin streams of water that poured down a dyke of loose rocks
20 feet high from the great river, separated the right bank from the
point occupied by the settlements. During the wet months it was evident
that this dyke must be washed by a furious cataract, and that the right
branch is then almost impassable, and it is for this reason probably
that the locality was chosen by the Wenya. At this season, however, we
crossed over to the inhabited island without trouble, and resolved to
guard the approach to this branch. From our camp to this point there was
not the slightest danger to fear from the river; and Uledi and his boat-
mates were therefore signalled to bring the boat and canoes near to the
dyke.
[Illustration: THE SEVENTH CATARACT, STANLEY FALLS.]
After waiting until 9 A.M. for the islanders to begin their attack, I
sent a few scouts through the brushwood to ascertain what the Wenya were
doing, and within an hour they returned to say that nothing could be
heard of them. Moving forwards by the path, we discovered to our good
fortune that the people had abandoned the island apparently. The extent
of the villages proved them to be a populous community, and the manner
in which they were arranged gave them an appearance resembling a town on
the Upper Nile. Each village, however, was distinct from the next,
though only short distances separated them, and each possessed four or
five streets 30 feet wide, running in parallel lines, with cross alleys
leading from one side of the village to the other. The entire population
of this town or cluster of villages might be moderately estimated at
6000. On the opposite side was another large community, whose
inhabitants manned every rock to gaze at us in perfect security, for,
since they could not hurt us, we certainly entertained no designs
against them.
The Livingstone from the right bank across the island to the left bank
is about 1300 yards broad, of which width 40 yards is occupied by the
right branch, 760 yards by the island of the Wenya, 500 yards by the
great river. Contracted to this narrow space, between the rocky and
perpendicular bluffs of the island and the steep banks opposite, the
uproar, as may be imagined, is very great. As the calm river, which is
1300 yards wide one mile above the falls, becomes narrowed, the current
quickens, and rushes with resistless speed for a few hundred yards, and
then falls about 10 feet into a boiling and tumultuous gulf, wherein are
lines of brown waves 6 feet high leaping with terrific bounds, and
hurling themselves against each other in dreadful fury.
[Illustration: PIKE, STANLEY FALLS.]
Until I realized the extent of the volume that was here precipitated, I
could hardly believe that it was indeed a vast river that was passing
before me through this narrowed channel. I have seen many waterfalls
during my travels in various parts of the world, but here was a
stupendous river flung in full volume over a waterfall only 500 yards
across. The river at the last cataract of the Stanley Falls does not
merely _fall_: it is precipitated downwards. The Ripon Falls at the
Victoria Lake outlet, compared to this swift descent and furious on-
rush, were languid. The Victoria Nile, as it swept down the steep
declivity of its bed towards Unyoro, is very pretty, picturesque, even a
sufficiently exciting scene; but the Livingstone, with over ten times
the volume of the Victoria Nile, though only occupying the same breadth
of bed, conveys to the sense the character of irresistible force, and
unites great depth with a tumultuous rush.
[Illustration:
FISH, SEVENTH CATARACT, STANLEY FALLS.
28 inches long; 16 inches round body; round snout; no teeth; broad
tail; large scales; colour, pale brown.
]
A solar observation taken opposite the last of the Stanley Falls proved
the latitude to be north 0° 15′ 0″, or seventeen miles north of the
first broken water of the Sixth Cataract; and a few miles below the
falls, on the 28th of January, we obtained north latitude 0° 20′ 0″. By
boiling point I ascertained that the declination was nearly 120 feet in
these twenty-two miles, the altitude above sea at the Seventh Cataract
being 1511 feet. As there are only seven miles really occupied by the
Sixth and Seventh Cataracts, the intermediate fifteen miles being calm
flowing water, we may not be far wrong in giving the slope of the river
at the two falls a declination of 17 feet to the mile.
[Illustration:
FISH, STANLEY FALLS.
Fine scales; weight, 23 lbs.; thick broad snout; 26 small teeth in
upper jaw, 23 teeth in lower jaw; broad tongue; head, 11 inches
long.
]
The rocky point of the left bank was formerly connected with the rocky
island of the Wenya by a ridge, which appears to have fallen southward,
judging from the diagonal strata, but since that period the river has
worn down this obstruction, and the cataract is now about three hundred
yards south-east of the straits, pounding away at the ledge with the
whole of its force.
A glance at the sketch of the Seventh Cataract of the Stanley Falls
shows a line of tall poles planted below the falls, which assist us not
only to form some estimate of the depth of the water, but also of the
industry of the Wenya. A space of about 300 yards, in the middle of the
falls, is unapproachable, but to a distance of 100 yards on each side,
by taking advantage of the rocks, the natives have been enabled to fix
upright heavy poles, 6 inches in diameter, to each of which they attach
enormous fish-baskets by means of rattan-cane cables. There are probably
sixty or seventy baskets laid in the river on each side, every day; and
though some may be brought up empty, in general they seem to be
tolerably successful, for out of half-a-dozen baskets that my boatmen
brought up next day for examination twenty-eight large fish were
collected, one of which—a pike—was 40 inches long, 24 inches round the
body, and weighed 17 lbs.
Higher up the river we had also been accustomed to see piles of oysters
and mussel-shells along the banks, especially while passing the lands of
the Upper Wenya, between Rukombeh’s landing near Ukusu and the First
Cataract of Stanley Falls. These in some instances, might be taken as
the only remaining traces of departed generations of Wenya, settled here
when, through internecine troubles, they had been ejected from some more
favoured locality.
The Wenya of the Seventh Cataract struck me as being not only more
industrious than the aboriginal Baswas, but also more inventive than any
we had yet seen, for in their villages we discovered square wooden
chests, as large as an ordinary portmanteau, wherein their treasures of
beads and berries, large oyster and mussel-shells, were preserved. The
paddles were beautiful specimens, made out of wood very much resembling
mahogany; a vast quantity of half-inch cord made out of Hyphene palm and
banana-fibre was also discovered. In almost every house, also, there
were one or more ten-gallon earthenware jars filled with palm butter,
while ivory seemed to be a drug, for we found three large tusks entirely
rotten and useless, besides numbers of ivory war-horns, and ivory
pestles for pounding cassava into flour.
[Illustration: PALM-OIL JAR AND PALM-WINE COOLER.]
After building another camp above the creek-like branch near the right
bank, we availed ourselves of some of the numerous piles of poles which
the Wenya had cut for sinking in the river to lay a roadway over the
rocks, from the level of the great river down to the lower level of the
creek, and by night the boat and canoes were in the water and out of
danger.
_Jan. 27._—The next day, while descending this creek, we were attacked
both from front and rear, and almost the whole of the afternoon we were
occupied in defending a rude camp we had hastily thrown up, while our
non-combatants lay sheltered by a high bank and our canoes. Towards
sunset the savages retired.
[Illustration: MOUTH OF DRUM.]
[Illustration: WOODEN SIGNAL DRUM OF THE WENYA OR WAGENYA AND THE TRIBES
ON THE LIVINGSTONE.]
[Illustration: DRUMSTICKS, KNOBS BEING OF INDIA-RUBBER.]
_Jan. 28._—On the morning of the 28th we resumed our labours with
greater energy, and by 10 A.M. we were clear of the last of the Stanley
Falls, thus closing a series of desperate labours, which had occupied us
from the 6th of January, a period of twenty-two days, during the nights
and days of which we had been beset by the perverse cannibals and
insensate savages who have made the islands amid the cataracts their
fastnesses, and now—
“Our troubled thoughts to distant prospects leap,
Desirous still what flies us to o’ertake;
For hope is but the dream of those that wake.
But looking back we see the dreadful train
Of woes anew, which, were we to sustain,
We should refuse to tread the path again.”