Again in open water—Frank Pocock feels the position—The Mburra or
Yaryembi—A running fight—“Ya-Mariwa! Ya-Mariwa!”—Our tactics of
capture—Monster spears—Growing weary of fighting for life—The power
of laughter—Fish creeks—A wasp swarm of canoes—Another invincible
armada—A village of ivory—Relics of cannibal feasts—The Wellé of
Schweinfurth—Hunted to despair—Their meat escapes the cannibals—Wild
nature—Among friendly natives—The Congo!
_Jan. 28._—We hastened away down river in a hurry, to escape the noise
of the cataracts which, for many days and nights, had almost stunned us
with their deafening sound.
The Livingstone now deflected to the west-north-west, between hilly
banks—
“Where highest woods, impenetrable
To star, or sunlight, spread their umbrage broad
And brown as evening.”
We are once again afloat upon a magnificent stream, whose broad and
grey-brown waters woo us with its mystery. We are not a whit dejected
after our terrible experiences; we find our reward in being alive to
look upon wild nature, and a strange elasticity comes over us. The boat-
boys amuse me by singing their most animating song, to which every
member of our Expedition responds with enthusiasm. The men, women, and
children are roused to maintain that reckless, exuberant spirit which
assisted me to drive through the cannibal region of the Stanley Falls,
for otherwise they might lose that dash and vigour on which depends our
success. They are apt, if permitted thinking-time, to brood upon our
situation, to become disquieted and melancholy, to reflect on the fate
of those who have already been lost, and to anticipate a like dolorous
ending to their own lives.
I thought even Frank was half affected by the sudden cessation of
trouble, and the sight of the now broad tranquil river to which we had
been a stranger for some time; for after the boat-boys had become hoarse
from chanting, his voice was heard in a doleful and sad strain, of which
the words were as follows:—
“The home land, the fair land,
Refuge for all distressed,
Where pain and sin ne’er enter in,
But all is peace and rest.
The home land! I long to meet
Those who have gone before;
The weeping eyes and weary feet
Rest on that happy shore.
The home land, the bright land!
My eyes are filled with tears,
Remembering all the happy band,
Passed from my sight for years.
When will it dawn upon my soul?
When shall I meet that strand?
By night and day I watch and pray
For thee, dear, blest home land.”
I thought the voice trembled as the strain ended; and, lest I should be
affected also, by no means a desirable thing, I said cheerily, “Frank,
my dear fellow, you will make everybody cry with such tunes as those;
they are too lachrymose altogether for our present state. The men are so
weak and excited that mournfulness will derange their nerves, and make
us all utterly unfit for the work before us. Choose some heroic tune,
whose notes will make us all feel afire, and drive our canoes down
stream as though we were driven by steam.”
“All right, sir,” he replied with a bright, cheerful face, and sang the
following:—
“Brightly gleams our banner,
Pointing to the sky,
Waving wanderers onward
To their home on high.
Journeying o’er the desert
Gladly thus we pray,
And with hearts united
Take our heavenward way.”
“Ah, Frank, it is not the heavenward way you mean, is it? I should think
you would prefer the homeward way, for that is the way I pray to be
permitted to lead you.”
“How do you like this, sir?” he asked.
“My God, my Father, while I stray,
Far from my home, in life’s rough way,
O teach me from my heart to say,
Thy will be done.
“Though dark my path, and sad my lot,
Let me be still and murmur not,
Or breathe the prayer divinely taught,
Thy will be done.
“What though in lonely grief I sigh
For friends beloved no longer nigh!
Submissive would I still reply,
Thy will be done.”
“Frank, you are thinking too much of the poor fellows we have lately
lost. It is of no use, my son; we have taken the bit in our teeth, and
must drive on—drive right through to the sea. The time for regret and
sorrow will come by and by, but just now we are in the centre of Africa;
savages before you, savages behind you, savages on either side of you.
Onward, I say; onward to death, if it is to be. I will not listen to
regrets now. Sing, my dear Frank, your best song.”
He responded by singing:—
“Onward, Christian soldiers,
Marching as to war,
With the cross of Jesus
Going on before!”
This was too much for me. I saw that he was in a serious and religious
vein of mind, and refrained therefore from disturbing him further. The
boat-boys now resumed their barbarous but exhilarating chorus, and again
the woods on either side re-echoed with the stirring notes of our boat-
song.
At 3 P.M. we arrived at a fine river, 300 yards wide at the mouth, which
flowed from the east-south-east, with low wooded banks on either side.
After proceeding a mile, we discovered another branch of the same river,
about 300 yards wide, the two branches joining at about, two miles
above. Subsequently we received two names for it—the Mburra and the
Yaryembi—but I believe the Mburra is the correct title for the joint
river.
The great stream a mile below the confluence opened out again into a
breadth of 2000 yards, and was soon disparted by the broad and fertile
island of Ukioba into two branches of equal breadth. We preferred the
right branch, which had a course north-west by north for about two
miles, when it again deflected to west-north-west. Much of the right
bank showed a horizontal substructure of sandstone, with about 10 feet
of alluvium above it, and ranged from 20 to 100 feet in height, wooded
throughout, except at market-greens and old settlements.
We prepared to camp at one of these abandoned settlements, but a
neighbouring community at Usimbi advanced to contest our right to remain
on the soil of Koruru, and obliged us to continue our journey. We then
chose the lower end of the Ukioba Island, nearly opposite Usimbi; but
the stupid aborigines could not understand this forbearance, and,
manning their canoes, called on the Wakioba to unite with them in
expelling us. This compelled us to defend ourselves, which ended in the
dispersion of the people of Koruru, and the capture of one of their war-
vessels and five men.
Their canoes differed from those above the Stanley Falls, being
capacious, flat-bottomed scows, dug out of a fragrant gum-tree (probably
of the genus Boswellia), which grows to very large dimensions in the
forests.
_Jan. 29._—On the morning of the 29th we crossed the river, and finding
Usimbi abandoned, entered it. The arrangement of the villages was the
same as with the Wenya at the Stanley Falls, possessing lateral and
transverse streets at right angles, and not consisting, as those on the
Upper Livingstone, of one long street. Each house also possessed a
court, neatly surrounded with a fence of upright logs. Behind, or on the
inland side, the village was protected by two deep ditches, the earth
from the excavations being thrown inwards. In the middle of what seemed
to be a principal street was a rude wooden figure of a bearded man,
under a small conical-shaped roof, which was supported by nine ivory
tusks, raised upon a platform of tamped clay, and carefully swept,
showing that great care was bestowed upon it. The people appear to have
considerable faith in a whitewash of cassava meal, with which they had
sprinkled the fences, posts, and lintels of doors, and the stems of the
ficus, planted for shade here and there in small plazas. Great drums, 6
feet long, 3 feet deep, and 2 feet wide, resting on broad and solid
legs, and carved out of a single log also stood in the plazas.
We released our captives, and then crying out “Bismillah!” continued our
voyage down river, which had a breadth of 2500 yards below Ukioba
Island. Both banks were high, steep, and wooded. The right bank showed a
reddish and rippled sandstone up to a foot above the water-line for a
few miles below Usimbi. But the substructure afterwards changed to a
greyish calcareous rock, with a perpendicular face varying from 20 to 50
feet high. Numerous creeks, 20 and 25 yards wide, emptied into the great
river from the right bank.
At noon, when approaching a large village, we were again assaulted by
the aborigines. We drove them back, and obtained a peaceful passage past
them, until 1 P.M. During this interval I obtained an observation for
latitude, and ascertained we had reached north latitude 0° 22′ 29″.
From 1 P.M. we were engaged with a new tribe, which possessed very large
villages, and maintained a running fight with us until 4 P.M., when,
observing the large village of Ituka below us, and several canoes
cutting across river to head us off, we resolved to make our stand on
the shore. Material for constructing a boma was soon discovered in the
outlying houses of the village, and by five o’clock we were tolerably
secure on the edge of the steep banks—all obstructions cleared away on
the land side, and a perfect view of the river front and shore below us.
[Illustration: SHIELDS OF ITUKA PEOPLE.]
The savages were hideously be-painted for war, one-half of their bodies
being white, the other ochreous. Their shields were oblong squares,
beautifully made of rattan-cane, light, tough, and to spears and knives
impenetrable. A square slab of ebony wood with a cleat, and one long
thin board placed lengthways, and another crossways, sufficed to stiffen
them. Shouting their war-cries—“Ya-Mariwa! Ya-Mariwa!”—they rushed on
our boma fences like a herd of buffaloes several times, in one of which
charges Muftah Rufiji was killed, a broad spear-blade sharp as a razor
ripping nearly eight inches of his abdomen open; another man received a
wound from a spear, which had glanced along his back. As the heavy
spears hurtled through the boma, or flew over it, very many of us had
extremely narrow escapes. Frank, for instance, avoided one by giving his
body a slight jerk on one side. We, of course, had the advantage, being
protected by doors, roofs of houses, poles, brushwood, and our great
Mwana-Ntaba shields, which had been of invaluable use to us, and had
often in the heat of fights saved us and made us almost invulnerable.
From the Ruiki river up to this afternoon of January 29th we had fought
twenty-four times, and out of these struggles we had obtained sixty-five
door-like shields, which upon the commencement of a fight on the river
at all times had been raised by the women, children, and non-combatants
as bulwarks before the riflemen, from behind which, cool and confident,
the forty-three guns were of more avail than though there were 150
riflemen unprotected. The steersmen, likewise protected, were enabled to
steer their vessels with the current while we were engaged in these
running fights. Against the spears and arrows the shields were
impervious.
At sunset our antagonists retired, leaving us to dress our wounds and
bury our dead, and to prepare for the morrow by distributing a new store
of cartridges; and, after waiting until 9 A.M. next day unattacked, we
sailed out and embarked once more.
Below Ituka the river was deflected to north-west by west by a long
ridge called Tugarambusa, from 300 to 500 feet high, with perpendicular
red cliffs for four miles, until terminated by a point 300 feet high,
the summit of which was crowned with a fine forest. Beyond the point we
were sheltered by a sandstone bluff, and steep slopes covered by
beautiful ferns, and shrubby trees with blossoms like lilacs, which
exhaled a delightful fragrance. On the lower portions of the banks,
where landslips had occurred, we observed a reddish sandstone capped by
yellow clay.
After six miles of these high banks the river flowed west by north half
west, while the high banks already mentioned became a ridge, running
north-west, leaving a lower level at its base extending to the river,
which was highly populous and cultivated.
_Jan. 30._—About ten o’clock of the 30th another conflict began, in the
usual way, by a determined assault on us in canoes. By charging under
cover of our shields we captured one canoe and eight men, and withdrew
to a low grassy islet opposite Yangambi, a settlement consisting of five
populous villages. We had discovered by this that nothing cowed the
natives so much as a capture, and as it was the most bloodless mode of
settling what might have been a protracted affair, I had adopted it.
Through our captives we were enabled to negotiate for an unmolested
passage, though it involved delay and an expenditure of lung force that
was very trying; still, as it ended satisfactorily in many ways, it was
preferable to continued fighting. It also increased our opportunities of
knowing who our antagonists were, and to begin an acquaintance with
these long-buried peoples.
We understood a captive to say that the river here was called Izangi,
that the settlements on the right bank were in the country of Koruru,
and that on the left bank still extended the country of Yambarri, or
Vambari.
When the natives observed us preparing to halt on the grassy islet
directly opposite their villages, with their unfortunate friends in our
power, they withdrew to their village to consult. The distance between
our grassy islet and the right bank was only 500 yards, and as it was
the eastern bank the sun shone direct on them; enabling me, with the aid
of a field-glass, to perceive even the differences of feature between
one man and another.
Though hostilities had ceased, the drumming continued with unabated
fury; bass and kettle-drums gave cut a thunderous sound, which must have
been heard to an immense distance. The high ridge, which was three miles
behind Yangambi, exhibited cultivated slopes and many villages, which
discharged their hundreds to the large council-circle sitting down in
view of us. Many of the aborigines paraded up and down the banks for our
benefit, holding up to our view bright spear-blades, 6 feet in length
and 6 inches broad! the sight of which drew curious remarks from my
hard-pressed followers.
One, named Mpwapwa, cried out, “Oh, mother, those fellows mean to split
a man in two with such spears as those!” Another said, “No, man, those
are the spears from their idol temples, for mere show; for were a man to
be carved with such a big spear, there would be nothing left of him.”
But Baraka, the humourist, opined they were intended to spit children
on. A chorus of war-cries sometimes broke out from the immense concourse
of people, wherein we could distinguish very plainly the words “Ya,
Mariwa!”
While all this was at its height, and as we were unable to comprehend
anything that the natives bawled out to us, we placed our captives in
their canoe, and, giving each a few shells, motioned them to depart. As
the warriors on the bank saw their friends return, they all gathered
round the landing-place, and, as they landed, asked scores of questions,
the replies to which elicited loud grunts of approval and wonder. The
drumming gradually ceased, the war-cries were heard no more, the people
left their processions to crowd round their countrymen, and the enormous
spear-blades no longer flashed their brightness on us. We waited about
an hour, and, taking it for granted that after such a signal instance of
magnanimity they would not resume their hostile demeanour, we quietly
embarked, and glided down the river unopposed.
Not desirous of risking another encounter this day, we sought the
shelter of a wooded island opposite an uninhabited forest, and arranged
ourselves in the wild woods with due regard to safety. Yet we were not
unobserved. Some stray fishermen gave notice to the populous settlements
below, and a furious drumming at once began from each bank, which was
maintained without intermission until morning.
The river was gradually increasing in breadth; from 3000 yards it grew
to 4000 yards wide. Islands also were more numerous, with dense roofs of
green foliage upheld by the trunks of the tall patriarchs. We were
getting weary of fighting every day. The strain to which we were exposed
had been too long, the incessant, long-lasting enmity shown to us was
beginning to make us feel baited, harassed, and bitter. Dared we but
dash down by night? Ah, but who could tell us what lay below! Whom could
we ask, when everything in the shape of man raised his spear and
screamed his rage at us as soon as we were observed!
So we emerged out of the covert and forest shades of the island with
soured and embittered feelings. But we would cling to the islands, and
close our ears against their infernal noise, and turn our eyes
resolutely away from the advancing cannibals until they came within
spear-throw of us, and then, why—we will fight again.
_Jan. 31._—We did cling to the islands. An enormous breadth of river—on
our right and on our left—separated us from either bank, but it was
totally insufficient to win a free passage. We must either sacrifice a
few men or women or children to their lust for human meat, or we must
sacrifice a few cartridges. Fourteen canoes already lying in wait below
Divari Island surprised us by their ferocious precipitancy, but we
preferred to lose the cartridges, and after delivering over to them a
sufficient number, we crossed the river again, lest there might be more
canoes lying in wait, and followed the right bank, where we had a short
tussle with a few more Wariwa canoes at Yavunga, which, fortunately for
us, was the last trouble we experienced on the 31st. The people of
Irendé and Uganja on the left bank had behaved as boisterously as those
of Yavunga, and had offended our ears with bold demands for our flesh,
and had even affected a chase; but the defeated heroes of Yavunga
advised them not to be absurd.
About 10 A.M. we approached, after quite an interval of peace—two
hours!—another settlement on the right bank. We sheered off again to the
islands. The river was evidently getting wider, and with its increased
width the banks became lower, and no longer showed those picturesque
hills, tall, wooded ridges, brown, red, or grey bluffs capped with the
forest marvels of the tropics, which had so often elicited our
admiration. Grassy islets alternated with wooded ones, and these are the
haunts of the salt-makers, who extract salt out of the lye. Opposite a
large palisaded village called Mawembé, which was holding a market even
then, we came to a grassy islet, where were two women in a canoe. We
ceased paddling at once. Our blandishments were most effectual on them.
They laughed so loud that it appeared as if the market people at
Mawembé, 1500 yards from us, must have heard them. Out of real sympathy
we too laughed—but whether they were victims of our blandishments or we
of theirs, would be difficult to tell. I had heard of the power of
negroes to laugh, but I had never realised their powers so thoroughly as
when these two women lay back, opened their mouths, and gave forth those
surprising volumes of laughter that so perfectly captivated us. They
understood the value of beads, and we tossed ten necklaces to them; but
all we could understand from them was that the great palisaded village
was Mawembé and the country Koruru.
The current finally swept us out of sight of them, and three miles below
we discovered another palisaded village, for which we could obtain no
name. Grassy islets vomited smoke in dense clouds, but man was such an
obnoxious animal in these regions that we dared not seek his
acquaintance. At noon I obtained an altitude of the sun, and ascertained
that we had reached north latitude 0° 35′ 50″.
The right bank here rose again, high and steep, shadowed with a glorious
forest, the islands were wooded to an intense blackness, and between
them flowed the river in broad bands of silver. The left bank was so far
off that we obtained no view of it! In a recess amid palms and vines and
patriarchal trees, bound together by giant creepers of ficus and
serpent-like lengths of _Calamus secundiflorus_, we sheltered our weary
souls, and thought to do honour to the deity of those lonesome woods,
who had reserved this loneliness to protect us in our outlawed state.
_Feb. 1._—The sun came out above the forest, round and large and bright,
shooting broad gleams of light into the island shades, and lighting up
their gloom until they seemed most envied retreats. Not for us, however.
Destiny urged us on. There were no retreats for us. Man refused us, and
the forest rejected us, for it had nothing to support us.
Almost straight the river flows—north-west half west. The right bank, to
which we again cling, is steep and high, and crowned with solemn woods.
At the water line is yellow clay; above it, alluvium and vegetable
mould, on which a hundred varieties of tropical plants flourish.
Presently we are made aware that we are approaching settlements, by a
number of ditches excavated in the lower banks, at an obtuse angle to
the course of the river, which during the flooding season will become
filled by the full river and the resort of numerous fish. We had
observed this before. The larger islands and banks ever since leaving
the Stanley Falls, exhibited proofs of that love of the natives for fish
which has stimulated them to undertake these laborious excavations,
often over a hundred yards in length, to plait huge basket-traps and
reedy fences at the mouths of creeks, to manufacture coils of stout rope
out of plantain and palm (Hyphene) fibre, large cord nets, to plant
great poles in the middle of cataracts, and undeterred by its dangers,
to risk their lives daily in fish-catching.
About 8 P.M. we came in view of a market-place, near which there were
scores of small canoes. The men at once rushed into them, and advanced
all round us. We refrained a long time, but finally, as they began to
get brave by our quiescence, and to launch their wooden spears, which
they proceeded to do unanimously as soon as somebody cried out
“Mutti”—sticks—we were obliged to reply to them with a few shots, which
compelled them to scamper away ahead of us. Drums then awakened the
whole country, and horns blew deafening blasts. Some canoes
pertinaciously followed us. We came about 10 A.M. to another market-
green. Here, too, warriors were ready, and the little canoes, like
wasps, hovered round us, and again we had recourse to our weapons. The
little canoes with loud threats disappeared quickly down river: the land
warriors rushed away into the woods. We did not wish to hurry, because
the faster we proceeded the quicker we found we were involved in
trouble. We therefore loitered languidly: rest was so rare that it
became precious when we obtained it.
At noon I observed the sun, and found we were in north latitude 0° 50′
17″. We resumed our journey, rowing at a steady though not a fast pace.
We had descended the river for about an hour when we came again in sight
of those waspish little canoes, and from the left bank, 3000 yards off,
canoes were seen heading across the river at a terrific pace, while
horns blew and drums beat. We heard shouts of defiance, or threats, we
knew not which—we had become indifferent to the incessant noise and
continued fury.
In these wild regions our mere presence excited the most furious
passions of hate and murder, just as in shallow waters a deep vessel
stirs up muddy sediments. It appeared to be a necessity, then why should
we regret it? Could a man contend with the inevitable?
At 2 P.M., heralded by savage shouts from the wasp swarm, which from
some cause or other are unusually exultant, we emerge out of the shelter
of the deeply wooded banks in presence of a vast affluent, nearly 2000
yards across at the mouth. As soon as we have fairly entered its waters,
we see a great concourse of canoes hovering about some islets, which
stud the middle of the stream. The canoe-men, standing up, give a loud
shout as they discern us, and blow their horns louder than ever. We pull
briskly on to gain the right bank, and come in view of the right branch
of the affluent, when, looking up stream, we see a sight that sends the
blood tingling through every nerve and fibre of the body, arouses not
only our most lively interest, but also our most lively apprehensions—a
flotilla of gigantic canoes bearing down upon us, which both in size and
numbers utterly eclipse anything encountered hitherto! Instead of aiming
for the right bank, we form in line, and keep straight down river, the
boat taking position behind. Yet after a moment’s reflection, as I note
the numbers of the savages, and the daring manner of the pursuit, and
the desire of our canoes to abandon the steady compact line, I give the
order to drop anchor. Four of our canoes affect not to listen, until I
chase them, and threaten them with my guns. This compelled them to
return to the line, which is formed of eleven double canoes, anchored 10
yards apart. The boat moves up to the front, and takes position 50 yards
above them. The shields are next lifted by the non-combatants, men,
women, and children, in the bows, and along the outer lines, as well as
astern, and from behind these, the muskets and rifles are aimed.
[Illustration: MONSTER CANOE.]
We have sufficient time to take a view of the mighty force bearing down
on us, and to count the number of the war-vessels which have been
collected from the Livingstone and its great affluent. There are fifty-
four of them! A monster canoe leads the way, with two rows of upstanding
paddles, forty men on a side, their bodies bending and swaying in unison
as with a swelling barbarous chorus they drive her down towards us. In
the bow, standing on what appears to be a platform, are ten prime young
warriors, their heads gay with feathers of the parrot, crimson and grey:
at the stern, eight men, with long paddles, whose tops are decorated
with ivory balls, guide the monster vessel; and dancing up and down from
stem to stern are ten men, who appear to be chiefs. All the paddles are
headed with ivory balls, every head bears a feather crown, every arm
shows gleaming white ivory armlets. From the bow of the canoe streams a
thick fringe of the long white fibre of the Hyphene palm. The crashing
sound of large drums, a hundred blasts from ivory horns, and a thrilling
chant from two thousand human throats, do not tend to soothe our nerves
or to increase our confidence. However, it is “neck or nothing.” We have
no time to pray, or to take sentimental looks at the savage world, or
even to breathe a sad farewell to it. So many other things have to be
done speedily and well.
As the foremost canoe comes rushing down, and its consorts on either
side beating the water into foam, and raising their jets of water with
their sharp prows, I turn to take a last look at our people, and say to
them:—
“Boys, be firm as iron; wait until you see the first spear, and then
take good aim. Don’t fire all at once. Keep aiming until you are sure of
your man. Don’t think of running away, for only your guns can save you.”
Frank is with the _Ocean_ on the right flank, and has a choice crew, and
a good bulwark of black wooden shields. Manwa Sera has the _London
Town_—which he has taken in charge instead of the _Glasgow_—on the left
flank, the sides of the canoe bristling with guns, in the hands of
tolerably steady men.
The monster canoe aims straight for my boat, as though it would run us
down; but, when within fifty yards off, swerves aside, and, when nearly
opposite, the warriors above the manned prow let fly their spears, and
on either side there is a noise of rushing bodies. But every sound is
soon lost in the ripping, crackling musketry. For five minutes we are so
absorbed in firing that we take no note of anything else; but at the end
of that time we are made aware that the enemy is reforming about 200
yards above us.
Their blood is up now. It is a murderous world, and we feel for the
first time that we hate the filthy, vulturous ghouls who inhabit it. We
therefore lift our anchors, and pursue them up-stream along the right
bank, until rounding a point we see their villages. We make straight for
the banks, and continue the fight in the village streets with those who
have landed, hunt them out into the woods, and there only sound the
retreat, having returned the daring cannibals the compliment of a visit.
While mustering my people for re-embarkation, one of the men came
forward and said that in the principal village there was a “Meskiti,” a
“pembé”—a church, or temple, of ivory—and that ivory was “as abundant as
fuel.” In a few moments I stood before the ivory temple, which was
merely a large circular roof supported by thirty-three tusks of ivory,
erected over an idol 4 feet high, painted with camwood dye, a bright
vermilion, with black eyes and beard and hair. The figure was very rude,
still it was an unmistakable likeness of a man. The tusks being wanted
by the Wangwana, they received permission to convey them into the
canoes. One hundred other pieces of ivory were collected, in the shape
of log wedges, long ivory war-horns, ivory pestles to pound cassava into
meal and herbs for spinach, ivory armlets and balls, and ivory mallets
to beat the fig-bark into cloth.
[Illustration: THE FIGHT BELOW THE CONFLUENCE OF THE ARUWIMI AND THE
LIVINGSTONE RIVERS.]
The stores of beautifully carved paddles, 10 feet in length, some of
which were iron-pointed, the enormous six-feet-long spears, which were
designed more for ornament than use, the splendid long knives, like
Persian kummars, and bright iron-mounted sheaths with broad belts of red
buffalo and antelope-hide, barbed spears, from the light assegai to the
heavy double-handed sword-spear, the tweezers, hammers, prickers, hole-
burners, hairpins, fishhooks, arm and leg-rings of iron and copper, iron
beads and wrist-bands, iron bells, axes, war-hatchets, adzes, hoes,
dibbers, &c., proved the people on the banks of this river to be clever,
intelligent, and more advanced in the arts than any hitherto observed
since we commenced our descent of the Livingstone. The architecture of
their huts, however, was the same, except the conical structure they had
erected over their idol. Their canoes were much larger than those of the
Mwana Ntaba, above the Stanley Falls, which had crocodiles and lizards
carved on them. Their skull-caps of basket-work, leopard, civet, and
monkey skins, were similar to those that we had observed in Uregga.
Their shields were like those of the Wariwa. There were various
specimens of African wood-carving in great and small idols, stools of
ingenious pattern, double benches, walking-staffs, spear-staffs, flutes,
grain-mortars, mallets, drums, clubs, troughs, scoops and canoe-balers,
paddles, porridge spoons, &c. Gourds also exhibited taste in
ornamentation. Their earthenware was very superior, their pipes of an
unusual pattern—in short, everything that is of use to a well-found
African village exhibited remarkable intelligence and prosperity.
Evidences of cannibalism were numerous in the human and “soko” skulls
that grinned on many poles, and the bones that were freely scattered in
the neighbourhood, near the village garbage heaps and the river banks,
where one might suppose hungry canoe-men to have enjoyed a cold
collation on an ancient matron’s arm. As the most positive and downright
evidence, in my opinion, of this hideous practice, was the thin forearm
of a person that was picked up near a fire, with certain scorched ribs
which might have been tossed into the fire after being gnawed. It is
true that it is but circumstantial evidence, yet we accepted them as
indubitable proofs. Besides, we had been taunted with remarks that we
would furnish them with meat supplies—for the words _meat_ and _to-day_
have but slight dialectic difference in many languages.
[Illustration: PADDLE OF THE ARUWIMI CANNIBALS.]
We embarked in our canoes at 5 P.M., and descending the affluent came to
the confluence again, and then, hugging the right bank, appeared before
other villages; but after our successful resistance to such a
confederation of chiefs and the combined strength of three or four
different tribes, it was not likely that one small settlement would risk
an encounter. We anchored about 50 yards from the shore. Two old men
advanced to the edge of the steep bank and rattled pebbles, which were
enclosed in basket-work, towards us. We sat perfectly still for about
five minutes regarding them, and then we endeavoured to open a
conversation with them. We could understand but a few dozen words, which
we had managed to pick up. We understood them, however, to say that the
river where we had just had the fight was called the Aruwimi, that the
right branch of the great river was called Irondo, and the left, Rinda;
that the district between the confluence of the Aruwimi and the
Livingstone was Isangi, in Koruru. The country on the left bank was
still Yambarri, or Vambari, but ahead, or below Yambarri, were the
Baonda and the Wakunga; on the right bank, below them, were the
Bemberri.
The direction of the Aruwimi was from east-north-east magnetic, or
north-east true. It emptied into the Livingstone at a point three
hundred and forty geographical miles north of Nyangwé. Though
comparatively shallow and studded with islands, it is the most important
affluent of the Livingstone from the countries east. I have no
hesitation in pronouncing it to be the Wellé of Schweinfurth. The report
that he received from the natives, that the Wellé at a long distance
from the Monbuttu “widened into a boundless expanse of water,” and that
its general direction was west or north of west, ought not to receive
greater credence than the report which the natives all along the
Livingstone gave me, that the great river went “north, ever north.” As
we follow the Luama from its source to the great river, and know the
utmost reach north of the Tanganika, and have touched more than once
that central elevated region in whose bosom are found the Lakes Albert
Muta-Nzigé, Alexandra, and Tanganika, we may be supposed to have a
rational idea of the eastern and western watershed of the central
regions. If we continue our suppositions, which are founded upon a long
study of the hydrographical system of this region, we may suppose the
Wellé to drain the most extreme north-eastern corner of the Livingstone
basin, and, imitating the curve of the mighty river, to maintain a
north-westerly and westerly direction for a degree, or perhaps two
degrees, and then, skirting closely the watershed that separates the
basin of the Livingstone from that of the south-western Nile, the Benué,
and the Shari basins, to meet some obstructing hill, and be deflected
south-west into the Livingstone. In the same manner as we suppose the
course of the Wellé to be, the Luama proceeds north from Southern Goma
to Umené, then west, through Manyema to the Lualaba. The Urindi is
reported to flow in the same manner, but the best example of this
curious curve which belongs to the system of the Livingstone is the
great river itself, which maintains a northerly course for over twelve
degrees of latitude, a westerly course across three degrees of
longitude, and a south-westerly or a diagonal course across ten degrees
of longitude. The largest southern influent of the Livingstone flows
1100 miles northward before it turns west and south-west. The course of
the Kwango and the Lumami are other evidences to prove that this
extraordinary curve is a characteristic of the river system of the
Livingstone and its feeders.
If other evidences were wanting to confirm this supposition, I might
point to the cannibalistic propensities of the people, their superiority
in the domestic arts of the African, the weapons and shields, their
idols, their peculiar canoes, the stores of camwood, the prodigious
height and girth of trees, the character of the vegetation—which
resembles what the German traveller has written of the Monbuttu and
Wellé valley.
At the same time one must not forget that there is a remarkable
similarity between all the west coast tribes, from Lake Chad to Loanda,
which proves, in my opinion, the non-existence of those Mountains of the
Moon which have been drawn across Africa since Ptolemy’s time.
Schweinfurth crossed the watershed from the Nile side to the Wellé while
scarcely observing the difference of altitude. In the same manner one
might travel from Ituru to Unyanyembé without observing that he had
crossed the water-parting that separates the extreme southern sources of
the Nile from the extreme sources of Lake Tanganika’s principal
affluent.
We felt it to be unwise to stay long in the vicinity of such powerful,
well-equipped, and warlike tribes. We therefore lifted anchor, and began
to descend the stream; but as we turned away the savages lined the
banks, beat their drums, shouted their war-cries, and performed for our
edification the gymnastics of a true aboriginal fight. It never entered
their heads that they had given us provocation, and had but lately
charged us in mid-river with the fell purpose of destroying every soul,
that we had behaved kindly to them, or that we had attempted, though
ineffectually, to make friends with them. Had their canoes not fled up
river, I verily believe that our turning away would have been the signal
for another attack on us.
This last of the twenty-eight desperate combats which we had had with
the insensate furies of savage-land began to inspire us with a suspicion
of everything bearing the least semblance of man, and to infuse into our
hearts something of that feeling which possibly the hard-pressed stag
feels when, after distancing the hounds many times, and having resorted
to many stratagems to avoid them, wearied and bathed with perspiration,
he hears with terror and trembling the hideous and startling yells of
the ever-pursuing pack. We also had laboured strenuously through ranks
upon ranks of savages, scattered over a score of flotillas, had endured
persistent attacks night and day while straggling through them, had
resorted to all modes of defence, and yet at every curve of this fearful
river the yells of the savages broke loud on our ears, the snake-like
canoes darted forward impetuously to the attack, while the drums, and
horns, and shouts raised fierce and deafening uproar. We were becoming
exhausted. Yet we were still only on the middle line of the continent!
We were also being weeded out by units and twos and threes. There were
not thirty in the entire Expedition that had not received a wound. To
continue this fearful life was not possible. Some day we should lie
down, and offer our throats like lambs to the cannibal butchers.
It was getting near sunset, and, looking round for a suitable place to
camp for the night, I observed that the river since the accession of the
Aruwimi had spread to an immense width. Instead of consisting of a right
and a left branch, separated by a single line of islands, there were now
from three to six branches, separated from each other by series of long
islands, densely clothed with woods, their ends overlapping one another.
Common sense suggested that where there was such breadth there could be
no cataracts. So, when almost inclined to despair, I pointed out the
island channels to the people, and told them that Allah had provided
means of escape. Near sunset we sheered off towards the islands, entered
a dark channel about one hundred yards wide, and after an hour drew our
canoes alongside, and, having fastened them, prepared to bivouac in the
island forest.
_Feb. 2._—Next day we clung to the channel; but as the islands lay
sometimes diagonally across the stream, we finally emerged in view of
the Bemberri, too late to return. Immediately they called up their
people to war, with a terrible racket of drums; and about fifteen large
canoes dashed out to meet us. But after the Aruwimi flotilla this number
was contemptible; we drove them away, followed them to their villages,
and compelled them to seek shelter in the woods. Then the word was given
that every man should provide himself with bananas and cassava. This was
done, and we re-embarked. Before, however, we could find another opening
amongst the islands, other villages discovered us, and again a terrific
dinning rose, which inspired even fishing-boys to acts of ferocious
valour. These we permitted to exhibit for our benefit the utmost rage
they were capable of, except actually to throw their spears. Whenever
they threatened to launch their weapons, a furious demonstration with
our long oars was sufficient to send them skimming away. They followed
us three or four miles, sending out every now and then wailing notes,
which, from the frequent recurrence of the word _meat_, we understood to
be expressions of regret that they were unable to secure the “meat”
which was running away from them.
Finally we discovered a channel flowing between a series of islands,
which we gladly entered, and our young tormentors turned back and left
us to pursue our way alone. From Bemberri the course of the great river
varied from north-west by north half north, north-north-west, north by
west, and north-west. I missed the latitude on February 2.
The following entries are from my note book:—
“_Feb. 3._—General course of river from morning until noon, north-
west. At noon ascertained our latitude to be north of the equator 1°
29′ 1″.
“We endeavoured to do our best to avoid conflict with the savages, and
this required great judgment and constant watching of the channels. We
happily succeeded, though a little after noon it became extremely
doubtful, for it seems that we edged a little too much to the left
bank in our eagerness to avoid all channels that might take us to the
right. The Barundu, of whom we heard yesterday, sighted us, as we
passed a gap between the islands, and instantly manned eighteen large
war-canoes. But as we had obtained a start of them we pulled
desperately down river among the islands, leading them a chase of
eight miles or so, when they returned.
“Livingstone called floating down the Lualaba a foolhardy feat. So it
has proved, indeed, and I pen these lines with half a feeling that
they will never be read by any man; still, as we persist in floating
down according to our destiny, I persist in writing, leaving events to
an all-gracious Providence. Day and night we are stunned with the
dreadful drumming which announces our arrival and presence on their
waters. Either bank is equally powerful. To go from the right bank to
the left bank is like jumping from the frying-pan into the fire. As we
row down amongst these islands, between the savage countries on either
side of us, it may well be said that we are ‘running the gauntlet.’
“_Feb. 4._—We had a glimpse of numerous villages between the island
gaps, but we pushed rapidly through, and at noon had attained to north
latitude 1° 45′ 40″. The general course of the river since noon
yesterday has been north-north-west.
“_Feb. 5._—At noon to-day we obtained by solar observation north
latitude 1° 51′ 17″. General course of the river was north-north-west.
“_Feb. 6._—A little before we sought our camp amid the islands, the
river for the first time deflected west. All this morning its course
was from west half south to west by north. Our observations at noon
showed we had not made quite a mile of northing, for our north
latitude was 1° 51′ 59″. The Livingstone is now from four to seven
miles across from bank to bank. So far as we can see through a glass,
the banks are very low, from 6 to 10 feet high, capped with woods. The
islands are also densely wooded.
“We have had in this extraordinary journey by river all the terrors as
well as pleasures of river life. We now glide down narrow streams,
between palmy and spicy islands, whose sweet fragrance and vernal
colour causes us to forget at moments our dangerous life. We have
before us the winding shores of islands crowned with eternal spring-
life and verdure. Teak and cotton-wood, the hyphene, borassus, wild
date, and Guinea oil-palms, the tall serpent-like rattan, with its
pretty, drooping feathery leaves; the bushy and many-rooted mangrove,
the towering gum, the shea-butter tree, the _Ficus kotschyana_, the
branchy _Tamar indica_, with an undergrowth of extraordinary variety.
Along the banks, especially wherever there is a quiet nook, thrive
dense growths of the _Arundo phragmites_ grass, whose long, bright
green leaves we hear rustle as we glide by before the breeze blowing
up river; here and there the _Papyrus antiquorum_, or a specimen of
the _Edemone mirabilis_, or Eschinomenæ. In the calm tepid waters of
the little creeks that wind in mazy curves between low islands a
wonderful variety of aquatic plants is discovered; various species of
Nymphæa, with white or lavender-coloured flowers, and, woven with
their slender stalks, the broad-leafed Vallisneria, and amongst them,
modest and of a pretty green, the rosette-shaped _Pistia stratiotes_.
In thick hedges bordering either side of the creeks are vigorous
growths of ever-fresh-looking ferns.
“In the undergrowth, where the giant trees are wanting, we find the
anoma flourish best, their clusters of crimson fruit, growing at the
base of the stalk, serving me for a tartish dessert, and their grains,
commonly called “grains of paradise,” being sought after by the bhang
smokers of my Expedition to sweeten their breath and increase saliva.
The leaves are always of a fresh green, and give one a true idea of a
tropical forest and moist, warm climate. Not far off from these is the
_Phrynium ramosissimum_, whose broad and long fronds serve to thatch
the natives’ huts and fishers’ sheds, or to fold their cassava bread,
or for platters and salt-baskets, or for storing the minnows or
whitebait for market. You may also see here the _Strelitza vagina_, or
the wild banana, or the violet-tree, and the oil-berry tree, the black
ivory nut-tree, which might be made a valuable article of commerce;
the _Semicarbus anacardium_, commonly called the marking-ink plant,
the _Encephastos Aldensteini_, the ginger plant, the dragon’s blood
tree, various species of the Verbenaceæ, such as the _Vitex umbrosa_,
the physic nut-tree (_Jatrophe purgans_), which is frequently
associated with Muzimus, especially by Wakerewé and Wajiji, and the
brilliant bloom of a Loranthus or species of Liliaceæ in flower, will
not fail to be noted as one dreamily glides by these unknown islets,
full of treasures to bewitch a botanist, and wherein the enterprising
merchant might find profit.
“Some other pleasures we have are in watching a sunny bank, where we
may rest assured the crocodile lies dreaming of fish banquets, and
whence he will rise and plunge with a startling splash; or in watching
the tricks of some suspicious and watchful behemoth, whose roar has
its volume redoubled as it is reverberated from shore to shore in
these eerie wilds.
Our terrors are numerous. First, the rocks and rapids, the plunging
cataract and whirling pool, which fortunately are passed, and which we
pray we shall not have to encounter again. Then the sudden storm,
which now blows each day up river, and, first wrinkling the face of
the river, soon raises heavy brown waves, like those of a lake, which,
having already suffered from, we are careful to avoid; but the
greatest danger, an ever-recurring one, is that which we have to
encounter each time the wild howling cannibal aborigines observe us.
Indeed, the sense of security is short-lived, our pleasure evanescent;
but the sense of danger is always present, and pervades our minds
whether in our sleeping or our waking hours.
“_Feb. 7._—Obtained no latitude. It has been a tempestuous day. Great
heavy swells rolled up river in our front, and the wind howled and
shrieked so through the dismal glades that we became quite gloomy. To
add to our troubles, our food is finished; we have no more, and to
attempt to obtain it will cost human life. Empty stomachs serve to
render the prospects in unknown and wild regions still darker. We have
three asses with us; but then my people have grown to look at them as
fellow-members of the Expedition. They say they will die first, but
the faithful asses which have accompanied us so far the people say
shall not be touched. So far so good; but what are we to do? Late at
night the chiefs came to me and declared they must have food to-
morrow. I told them they should have it, that from the first village
we saw we should go and demand it.
“_Feb. 8._—Thank God! An anxious day has terminated with tranquillity
to long-disturbed minds. We are camped on a small jungle-covered islet
in north latitude 1° 40′ 44″ by observation, and east longitude 21° 4′
by acct. Opposite, at 500 yards’ distance, on the left bank, is the
village of Rubunga, in Nganza. On the right bank, at 1700 yards’
distance from us, is the large town of Gunji.
“Our course yesterday was west by south, and to-day west-south-west.
We embarked at 7 A.M., and rowed past a very long wooded island, which
lay on our left. At 8 A.M., we began to observe on the right bank a
long hilly ridge, with cultivated slopes, and a dense population,
which we later learned was called Upoto—or Mbapoto, as one man called
it. I solemnly addressed my people, and, while telling them to prepare
every weapon, gun, spear, axe, and knife, reminded them that it was an
awful thing to commence hostilities, whether for food or anything
else. They groaned in spirit, and asked me what they should do when
their bowels yearned for something to satisfy its cravings; and though
there was an abundance of copper, brass, iron, shells, beads, and
cloth, nobody would sell even a small piece of cassava to them, or
even look at them without manifesting a thirst for their blood.
“I had prepared the brightest and most showy wares close by me, and
resolved to be as cunning and patient as a serpent in this
intercourse. At 11 A.M. we sighted the village of Rubunga, and, giving
instructions to Frank not to approach nearer to me than a quarter of a
mile with the canoes, we rowed steadily down until within a few
hundred yards of it, when we lay-to on our oars. Presently three
canoes advanced to meet us without the usual savage demonstrations.
Not even a drum was beaten, a horn blown, or a cry uttered. This was
promising. We tried the words ‘Sen-nen-neh!’ ‘Cha-re-reh!’ in soft,
mild, melodious strains. They ran away. Things appeared gloomy again.
However, patience.
“We had reserved one banana and a piece of cassava. We had our mouths
and our stomachs with us. An appropriate gesture with the banana to
the mouth, and a gentle fondling with a puckered stomach, would, we
thought, be a manner of expressing extreme want, eloquent enough to
penetrate the armoured body of a crocodile. We came opposite the
village at 30 yards’ distance, and dropped our stone anchor, and I
stood up with my ragged old helmet pushed back far, that they might
scrutinise my face, and the lines of suasion be properly seen. With
the banana in one hand, and a gleaming armlet of copper and beads of
various colours in the other, I began the pantomime. I once knew an
idiot in Brusa, Asia Minor, who entreated me for a para in much the
same dumb strain that I implored the assembled, hundreds of Rubunga to
relax that sullen sternness, that uncompromising aspect, that savage
front, and yield to the captivating influence of fair and honest
barter. I clashed the copper bracelets together, lovingly handled the
bright gold-brown of the shining armlet, exposed with all my best
grace of manner long necklaces of bright and clean _Cypræa moneta_,
and allured their attention with beads of the brightest colours. Nor
were the polished folds of yellow brass wire omitted; and again the
banana was lifted to my open mouth. Then what suspense, what patience,
what a saint-like air of resignation! Ah, yes! but I think I may be
pardoned for all that degrading pantomime. I had a number of hungry,
half-wild children; and through a cannibal world we had ploughed to
reach these unsophisticated children of nature.
“We waited, and at length an old chief came down the high bank to the
lower landing near some rocks. Other elders of the people in head-
dresses of leopard and civet skin joined him soon, and then all sat
down. The old chief nodded with his head. We raised our anchor, and
with two strokes of the oars had run our boat ashore, and, snatching a
string or two of cowries, I sprang on land, followed by the coxswain
Uledi, and in a second I had seized the skinny hand of the old chief,
and was pressing it hard for joy. Warm-hearted Uledi, who the moment
before was breathing furious hate of all savages, and of the
procrastinating old chief in particular, embraced him with a filial
warmth. Young Saywa, and Murabo, and Shumari, prompt as tinder upon
all occasions, grasped the lesser chiefs’ hands, and devoted
themselves with smiles and jovial frank bearing to conquer the last
remnants of savage sullenness, and succeeded so well that in an
incredibly short time the blood-brotherhood ceremony between the
suddenly formed friends was solemnly entered into, and the irrevocable
pact of peace and goodwill had been accomplished!
“The old chief pointed with his finger to the face of Frank, which
shone white amongst the dusky bodies of his comrades, and I beckoned
to him. The canoes were all to anchor 100 yards off shore, but Frank
was required to respond to the chief of Rubunga’s wish for friendship.
We distributed presents to each native, and in return we received
great bunches of mellow, ripe, and green bananas, as well as of fish.
It was agreed between us that we should encamp on this little islet,
on which we find ourselves to-night, with a feeling as though we were
approaching home.
“Before leaving the chief of Rubunga’s presence, I asked him the name
of the river, in a mongrel mixture of Ki-swahili, Kinyamwezi, Kijiji,
Ki-regga, and Ki-Kusu. He understood after a while, and replied it was
‘Ibari.’ But after he had quite comprehended the drift of the
question, he replied in a sonorous voice, ‘_Ikutu ya Kongo!_’
“There had really been no doubt in my mind since we had left the
Stanley Falls that the terrible river would prove eventually to be the
river of Congoland, but it was very agreeable to be told so.
“We have received food sufficient to last us for this day. The native
women require a longer time to muster courage to make the acquaintance
of the strangers, and have postponed their visit until to-morrow. A
grand market for our special benefit is to be held on this island. The
drums of Rubunga will be beaten to-morrow morning, not for war, but to
summon the aborigines to come forward with provisions to sell. In the
meantime hunger has been expelled, the gnawing emptiness has been
banished, and our long-harassed minds are at rest. May this happy
friendship be the first of many more!”