DIFFICULTIES AND DANGERS.
Although Hatibu professed himself as desirous of pressing on as I did, I
found he managed to have so much business to do at Kawele that we were
detained there for weeks instead of days, as I had at first supposed.
Though I was well lodged and well fed, and by the kindness of the Arabs
well clothed, I was always longing for the time when we should again be
on the march.
Hatibu here disposed of all his slaves, and to take their places in
carrying the ivory, he hired Wanyamwesi who wished to return to their
own country. I must say I was heartily glad to be freed from daily
witnessing the hopeless toil of the poor wretches.
Loyal comrades as Hatibu and Bilal had proved themselves to me, I could
not put up with the apathy with which they regarded the sufferings of
these wretched creatures, and thought no more, if so much, of their life
or death than if they were brute beasts. To my many remonstrances they
would only say, “What does it matter? they are only heathens and
slaves;” and though they did not interfere with my doing what I could to
alleviate their sufferings, they regarded my efforts with contemptuous
indifference, and I verily believe in my own heart they thought I was an
idiot for troubling myself about them.
Now we were clear of this. Instead of half-starved, chained wretches,
our ivory was to be carried by stalwart Wanyamwesi, who from their very
childhood had been in the habit of travelling and carrying heavy loads,
supplying the Arabs with the best pagazi or porters that they find in
Eastern Africa. A tusk weighing over fifty or sixty pounds, or even
below these weights, had to be carried by two slaves; while the brawny
fellows who now were to act as our carriers looked upon seventy or
eighty pounds as a normal load. One fellow by himself actually carried a
monster tusk weighing a hundred and twenty-five pounds, and seemed to
find a recompense for his extra toil in the pride he took in carrying
the largest piece of ivory we had.
With these fellows, however, we had to give in to their customs of the
road; and the road to be taken and the places at which we were to halt
were all laid down by the kirangosi, or leader. He marched at the head
of the caravan, carrying his load like the rest, and decked in a
fantastic manner with beads and feathers, and wearing when coming near a
village a robe of scarlet baize, which was his right, in addition to
the wages of an ordinary porter. Besides this he was entitled to the
head of every animal killed in the caravan, and the heads of fowls,
goats, and of any game we shot were all scrupulously demanded by him,
and after some process of cookery devoured by him and his companions.
Our departure took place early one morning. We went by water in boats
and canoes to a place about four miles south of Kawele, so as to avoid
crossing a river which fell into the lake; then after a short piece of
flat ground, we commenced to ascend the lofty hills which lay behind.
The difference between the Wanyamwesi and slaves as carriers of ivory
was nowhere more marked than in this ascent. While the latter would have
had to make innumerable halts, and have taken hours to reach the summit,
the Wanyamwesi, without any delay, and to show off their manhood and
strength, faced the steep ascent as if they were storming a fortress. In
little more than fifty minutes we halted on the crest to take our last
look at the Tanganyika.
The scene was one of marvellous beauty. The sides of the hills were
clothed with forest, the sombre green of the larger forest trees being
varied by flowering acacias, which stood out in patches of vivid
colouring. At our feet lay a deep inlet of blue water; beyond lay the
vast expanse of Tanganyika, shining beneath the rays of the sun like a
surface of polished brass, on which the canoes of the fishermen and the
floating islands brought down by the numerous streams which feed this
vast reservoir of the mighty Congo seemed like the merest specks; while
in the far distance the mountains of Ugoma lay like clouds deep in
shadow. Looking inland was one sea of forest, from which arose
cloud-capped hills, and the only sign that human beings had any
existence were dim wreaths of smoke, which betrayed the presence of the
people of Ukaranga.
Our first camp lay near one of their villages, and a grinning human
skull over its gateway, through which none of us were allowed to pass,
showed how little the semi-civilization of Kawele had done to leaven the
savagery of the surrounding peoples. Though this grinning remnant of
mortality had a gruesome and forbidding appearance, we found the people
ready enough to come to our camp to dispose of fowls, eggs, bananas, and
other articles of food, for dried fish from the lake, with a goodly
stock of which we had provided ourselves.
At night I spoke to Hatibu of all that lay before us. He said of one
thing I might be sure--that as far as Unyanyembe we should travel fast,
for the carriers were paid by the job irrespective of time, and were
homeward bound. Sure enough I found they did not intend to loiter, for
long before sunrise the horn of the kirangosi roused the sleeping camp,
and as soon as the first glimmer of dawn enabled us to see how to avoid
the difficulties of the road, loads were shouldered, and
[Illustration: VILLAGE IN UKARANGA.
_Page 334._]
we commenced our march. We pressed on without a stoppage save for one
day in order to buy salt, which would prove valuable on the road. For
this we exchanged all the fish we had brought from Kawele, and the
exchange certainly rendered the odour of our camp more pleasant than it
had hitherto been.
It was curious to see how the people made the salt by simply boiling the
soil in earthen pots, and then straining the water off the mud through
rough sieves made of leaves and grass, and evaporating the brine.
Usually the first filtration was not sufficient, and the process had
often to be repeated four or five times before a coarse brown salt which
looked like dirty sand was obtained. I was much astonished to find that
though the whole country was impregnated with salt, the streams and
rivers did not taste of it, but were perfectly fresh and sweet.
Six days after leaving Ujiji we arrived at the Malagarazi, whose
red-brown waters we had seen discolouring the Tanganyika on our way
northward to Kawele. Here we had to bargain with the lord of the ferry
and his numerous subordinates for our passage across its swift and
swirling waters. It was quite unfordable, and, as no trees grew on its
banks, we had no means of bridging it, and had to cross in canoes.
The bargaining for permission to cross required both time and patience;
and when it was all concluded I thought that certainly we should find
some decent sort of craft provided to transport us and our belongings
to the farther bank. It was about an hour after sunrise when we arrived
at the banks of the river, which were covered with dense masses of
canes, and not a sign was there of the men or the canoes which had been
promised and paid for. We waited while Hatibu sent messengers to press
the chief to hurry his men, and sat waiting patiently for them to return
on a small rise just outside the cane-swamp. Presently we saw one or two
heads of men gliding down through the canes, and Hatibu shouted, “Pack
up, pack up! see the canoes.”
All hands answered to his shout, and seizing their loads forced their
way through the canes and mud to the edge of the river. There we found
two things which might be called canoes, but were simply strips of bark
eighteen or twenty feet long, with the ends pinched and sewn together,
so that they formed troughs some fifteen inches wide and twelve deep. In
one end (bow or stern one could not name it) stood a black fellow, who
propelled his crazy craft with a long pole, punting in the shallows and
paddling when he could not reach the bottom. In all my experiences I had
never seen such frail and rickety craft as those now provided, and I
wondered how we should get across without disaster, more especially as I
was told that the river swarmed with crocodiles, and if one was capsized
the chances were two to one in favour of being seized and carried off by
these monsters.
A man with his load, and the ferryman, loaded the frail craft far
beyond the Board of Trade regulations. I watched with anxiety the
passage of some twenty men and their loads. Seeing no disaster, I
summoned up courage and stepped carefully and gingerly into one; then
kneeling down and leaning forward I held on to the sticks which formed
an apology for a gunwale, and gave the word to shove off. The water
washed against my knuckles, and even trickled over the side, and I
thought nothing could have saved me from an upset; but my dusky Charon
was as deft in managing the balance of his swaying vessel as a
rope-dancer, and I arrived at the farther bank, thankful to be across
the Malagarazi safe and sound.
As soon as I was across Hatibu told me to go on with Bilal and the men
already over to a neighbouring village, where we should stay for the
night. Hatibu said that now no danger or difficulty lay between us and
Unyanyembe. I at once pushed on, and soon came to a large stockaded
village, where huts were cleared for our reception. When I looked at the
elaborate nature of its defences I felt that they betokened an unsettled
country, and thought Hatibu had spoken more hopefully than he was
warranted in doing.
The mutwale, or chief of the village, came to gossip and stare at the
mzungu (white man). Bilal found from him that the Watuta, whom we had
heard of at Ujiji, were still about, had destroyed many villages, and
would doubtless have attacked this one if it had not been for the memory
of having been beaten off with heavy loss some years previously. This
was bad news indeed. Its truth was proved by the arrival during the
afternoon and evening of fugitives from villages that had been attacked
by these robbers. When night fell we could see the reflection of flames
against the skies, which showed where the villages they had taken had
been set on fire after their lust for murder and plunder had been
satisfied. I was told that the Watuta if opposed never spare man, woman,
or child, and that safety from their attacks is only to be found in
flight or a successful resistance.
Hatibu and Bilal were much disturbed by this news, and though they did
not doubt that the mutwale spoke the truth when he boasted of being able
to resist any attack that the Watuta might make against his village
fortress, they did not care to become involved in any struggle with them
and lose much valuable time, and they began to consider what they should
do to avoid them. The kirangosi was called into council, and he said,
“The Watuta are very bad; they are wicked and hot as fire.”
“Well,” replied Hatibu, “we know that. We ask not from you what is known
to all men. We want words of understanding, not words of foolishness.”
“Truly,” answered the man, “the way to Unyanyembe is short; but of what
avail is it that the road is short? for the Watuta are there.”
I thought there was not much use in consulting a man who only answered
in this manner, and said as much to Hatibu. He said there was another
and longer road, and this man knew it; and if he made the proposal to
travel by it, all would go well, but that he himself did not want to
propose it, as probably he would then refuse.
After sitting for some time in silence, Hatibu said it would be no use
remaining where we were, and it would be best to return to Ujiji.
At this the kirangosi looked annoyed, and said, “Turn back upon our
steps! No. The ivory may remain here, and you may go, but I and my men
are going to the country of our brothers. We will not turn back.”
Another long silence followed, and then the kirangosi said: “Listen,
masters. There is a road where the Watuta do not come, but it is long,
and for many days we shall be in the forest and in the wild, and see no
villages; but if my masters say the word, I and my men will take that
road, and we will arrive in Unyanyembe in safety.”
This was what Hatibu had been waiting for, but he would not appear too
eager to assent, and made it appear as if he were persuaded by the
kirangosi to follow this other road. At last he said he would do as the
kirangosi wished, and the latter springing to his feet said, “Let us be
going. It is now night, and the Watuta sleep. By the morning we shall be
far from them, and to-morrow night we shall be in the mountains of
Kawendi, where they cannot follow us.”
In a moment all was bustle and preparation. Sleeping men were roused,
loads were lashed up and shouldered, and the mutwale being persuaded by
a handsome present to open the entrance of his village, we set forth on
our march.
All night long we made our way along a narrow path, and in the morning
found ourselves on the summit of a range of hills. To the north we could
see wide plains mostly covered by forest, but with numerous villages and
clearings scattered about, from some of which the rising of columns of
smoke told us the Watuta were even then pursuing their work of
destruction. To the south rose ranges of mountains, table-topped, with
precipitous sides rising out of a sea of jungle. These were the
mountains of Kawendi, and through them our path lay.
After a short halt for the purpose of cooking some food and resting, the
iron-muscled Wanyamwesi shouted out that it was time to be on the march
again, and though I know I felt tired and weary, there was no lagging.
Soon we were rapidly descending the hillslopes towards a largish river
which we saw lying below us. I asked how we were to cross this, as it
seemed too broad to bridge; and as there were no signs of habitations
near, we could not hope to find canoes like those in which we had been
ferried across the Malagarazi.
Hatibu said, “That’s all right; the kirangosi says we shall cross on
sindi.”
“Sindi! what is that?” I asked.
“Wait, Franki, and you will see,” answered Hatibu.
I followed the long line of men, wondering what this sindi could be.
Before reaching the river-bank I saw to my astonishment that some of the
men were already across, and that others apparently, as far as I could
see through trees and grass, were walking on the surface of the river.
When I came to the bank I found that though there was open water to the
right and left of us, the surface of the stream was covered with a
matted growth of papyrus and other water-plants, sufficiently thick and
buoyant to support our weight in crossing, and that all our men were
without hesitation trusting themselves to its seemingly treacherous
surface.
“Do you see and understand sindi now, Franki?” said Hatibu. “Follow
close to me and step where I step, as there are holes sometimes, and if
you fall through you will die.”
No warning was requisite to make me exercise caution, for the yielding,
swaying surface caused a curious sense of insecurity. We got across to
the other side without misadventure, and before nightfall we were among
the mountains of Kawendi, and safe from any pursuit of the Watuta.
But though we had nothing to apprehend from human foes, we found that we
had to struggle with other dangers, hardships, and difficulties.
First of all, the few inhabitants of the mountains were all separated
into little village communities, perched on almost inaccessible crags.
The people were separated into a number of little independent
communities, sometimes not numbering more than twenty or thirty of both
sexes and all ages, and each little hamlet was at war with its
neighbours. When we attempted to approach, to try to find provisions,
the villagers closed the approaches, and in some instances rolled down
stones upon the men who would have spoken to them, and when we were
permitted to have any intercourse they could spare but little from their
scanty stocks to satisfy our necessities.
Want of food did not diminish the difficulty in toiling up the steep
hillsides and forcing our way through the tangled undergrowth in the
ravines. When after five days of much and hard toil we reached the limit
of this mountainous country, and saw a large village near us, we gave
way to rejoicings, for now we thought we should be able to buy food, and
to provide for the long stretch of uninhabited jungle which lay between
the mountains of Kawendi and the first villages of Ugara, the
westernmost of the countries comprised in the general name of Unyamwesi,
or Country of the Moon.
But our rejoicings were premature, for as we drew near we heard drums
beating and we saw that the people were prepared for war. The only
response to men sent to call to the inhabitants that we came in peace
and would pay for all we wanted was a volley of arrows. Our messengers
came back and reported their reception. We were fain to resume our weary
way hungry and dissatisfied. Hatibu would, I have no doubt, if there
had been any prospect of success, have willingly attacked these
inhospitable niggards. He said that behind their village, which lay at
the foot of a precipitous rocky hill, there were many caves, in which
they would take refuge, and where they stored all their supplies. He
bitterly complained of the bad policy of some of the traders in making
slave-raids into these countries, and rendering all the people hostile
to strangers.
As we turned our faces towards the forests which we had now to pass
through we came upon some large patches of Indian corn nearly ripe. From
these we managed to get a supply of food which would last some days; and
I could not object, for without it there can be little doubt that we
should have been starved.
Our kirangosi, who said he was well acquainted with this road, was soon
obliged to confess himself at fault, and we had to trust to the general
idea of the direction in which we wished to travel, and often came upon
rivers, hills, and swamps, which greatly interfered with our progress.
Fortunately we soon found game was plentiful, and we managed to shoot a
few antelopes, one of which I believe must have been an eland. We shot
also some buffaloes, which afforded a welcome supply of meat, our stock
of Indian corn having become exhausted. Our men, when there was no game
for the pot, had to resort to mushrooms of giant size and gorgeous
colour, lichens off the trees, and even leaves and grass, to stay the
cravings of their stomachs.
Abundance of game was not without its drawbacks, as two incidents which
occurred and which come vividly to my memory may prove. One day while we
were all marching along slowly and sadly, no one having any heart for
the songs or shouts with which the African usually enlivens his day’s
march, I was astonished by seeing a sudden panic seize the carriers, who
pitched their loads on the ground and scampering off to the handiest
trees commenced to climb them. Hatibu shouted to me to follow him, as
with the agility of a monkey he swung himself on to the lower branches
of an acacia tree, regardless of the thorns, and I, hardly knowing what
I was doing, hastened to place myself beside him.
Hardly was I in the branches when I heard a rushing sound below me of
the trampling of hoofs, and a buffalo bull, with head down and tail up,
charged along the path we were following, tossing and goring the
abandoned loads, and was soon away again. Fortunately no damage was
done, and we were soon all reassembled, laughing at the figures we had
made in our hasty flight. Those who had guns lamented that no use had
been made of them, and the buffalo turned into account by shooting him.
The other was also an adventure with a buffalo, and was another instance
of the blind rage with which these animals at times seem to be
possessed; but unfortunately it did not pass off in such a ludicrous and
harmless manner.
[Illustration: A BUFFALO CHARGE.
_Page 346._]
One evening, while searching round our camp for something which might
serve for food, I came upon a small pond surrounded by reeds growing to
a height of ten or twelve feet, and some men who were with me told me
that the roots of these reeds and the fruit of a water-lily which grew
in the pond were good to eat, and we set to work to collect some.
I was up to my waist in mud and water, picking the pods off the
water-lilies, when I heard a scream and a crash, or more properly a
crash and a scream, and I heard the voice of a man crying out, “Franki,
Franki! mbogo, mbogo!” (buffalo, buffalo). Pushing through the reeds I
saw one poor fellow on the ground gored by a buffalo, while another,
though only armed with a shoka, or hatchet, was preparing to attack the
infuriated animal.
I had nothing in my hands. For a moment I thought I could do nothing;
but suddenly the idea entered my head to seize the buffalo by the tail,
which I did. The brute was evidently surprised and astonished at this
strange attack, and turned and twisted about trying to disencumber
himself of me. Though dragged off my feet, fortunately I was able to
keep my grip, and the man with the hatchet dealt him several blows on
the head and neck, actually succeeding in hacking off one of his horns.
The beast rolled over in agony, dragging me with him, and I was in
momentary fear of being crushed under his body. But aid was at hand, for
Hatibu and Bilal came rushing up with their guns, accompanied by men
armed with spears, and in less time than it takes to write about it the
animal had received the contents of both muskets and was riddled with
spears. His death was almost instantaneous, and I was saved from my
perilous position; but the poor fellow who had been first attacked
received mortal injuries, and breathed his last before we could carry
him into our camp.
The flesh of the buffalo formed a welcome addition to our lichens and
roots; but two days afterwards we arrived in the first villages of
Ugara, where we found food in plenty. Passing through Ugara and Uganda
we reached the Arab settlement of Kazeh in Unyanyembe, where I found a
number of Arab traders of various degrees, who were most kind to me, and
did all they could to supply my wants.
[Illustration: A FATAL ENCOUNTER.
_Page 349._]