west give way to the circular African hut; among the poorer sub-tribes
the dwelling is a mere stack of straw. The best Tembe have large
projecting eaves supported by uprights: cleanliness, however, can never
be expected in them. Having no limestone, the people ornament the inner
and outer walls with long lines of ovals formed by pressing the finger
tips, after dipping them into ashes and water for whitewash, and into
red clay or black mud for variety of colour. With this primitive
material they sometimes attempt rude imitations of nature--human beings
and serpents. In some parts the cross appears, but the people apparently
ignore it as a symbol. Rude carving is also attempted upon the massive
posts at the entrances of villages, but the figures, though to
appearance idolatrous, are never worshipped. The household furniture of
the Tembe differs little from that described in the villages generally.
The large sloping Kitanda, or bedstead of peeled tree-branch, supported
by forked sticks, and provided with a bedding of mat and cowhide,
occupies the greater part of the outer room. The triangle of clay cones
forming the hearth are generally placed for light near the wall-side
opposite the front door; and the rest of the supellex consists of large
stationary bark cornbins, of gourds and bandboxes slung from the roof,
earthen-pots of black clay, huge ladles, pipes, grass-mats,
grinding-stones, and arms hung to a trimmed and branchy tree trunk
planted upright in a corner. The rooms are divided by party walls,
which, except when separating families, seldom reach to the ceiling. The
fireplace acts as lamp by night, and the door is the only chimney.
The characteristic of the Mnyamwezi village is the “İwánzá”--a
convenience resulting probably from the instinct of the sexes, who
prefer not to mingle, and for the greater freedom of life and manners.
Of these buildings there are two in every settlement, generally built at
opposite sides, fronting the normal Mrimba-tree, which sheds its filmy
shade over the public court-yard. That of the women, being a species of
harem, was not visited; as travellers and strangers are always admitted
into the male İwánzá, it is more readily described. This public-house is
a large hut, somewhat more substantial than those adjoining, often
smeared with smooth clay, and decorated here and there with broad
columns of the ovals before described, and the prints of palms dipped in
ashes and placed flat like the hands in ancient Egyptian buildings. The
roof is generally a flying thatch raised a foot above the walls--an
excellent plan for ventilation in these regions. Outside, the İwánzá is
defended against the incursions of cattle by roughly-barked trunks of
trees resting upon stout uprights: in this space men sit, converse, and
smoke. The two doorways are protected by rude charms suspended from the
lintel, hares’ tails, zebras’ manes, goats’ horns, and other articles of
prophylactic virtue. Inside, half the depth is appropriated to the
Ubiri, a huge standing bedframe, formed, like the plank-benches of a
civilised guard-room, by sleepers lying upon horizontal cross-bars:
these are supported by forked trunks about two feet long planted firmly
in the ground. The floor is of tamped earth. The furniture of the İwánzá
consists of a hearth and grinding-stone; spears, sticks, arrows, and
shillelaghs are stuck to smoke in the dingy rafter ceiling, or are laid
upon hooks of crooked wood depending from the sooty cross-beams: the
corners are occupied by bellows, elephant-spears, and similar articles.
In this “public” the villagers spend their days, and often, even though
married, their nights, gambling, eating, drinking pombe, smoking bhang
and tobacco, chatting, and sleeping like a litter of puppies destitute
of clothing, and using one another’s backs, breasts, and stomachs as
pillows. The İwánzá appears almost peculiar to Unyamwezi.
In Unyamwezi the sexes do not eat together: even the boys would disdain
to be seen sitting at meat with their mothers. The men feed either in
their cottages or more generally in the İwánzá: they make, when they
can, two meals during the day--in the morning, a breakfast, which is
often omitted for economy, and a dinner about 3 P.M. During the interim
they chew tobacco, and, that failing, indulge in a quid of clay. It
probably contains some animal matter, but the chief reason for using it
is apparently the necessity to barbarians of whiling away the time when
not sleeping by exercising their jaws. They prefer the “sweet earth,”
that is to say, the clay of ant-hills: the Arabs have tried it without
other effects but nausea. The custom, however, is not uncommon upon both
coasts of Africa: it takes, in fact, the place of the mastic of Chios,
the kat of Yemen, the betel and toasted grains of India and the farther
East, and the ashes of the Somali country. The Wanyamwezi, and indeed
the East-African tribes generally, have some curious food prejudices.
Before their closer intercourse with the Arabs they used to keep
poultry, but, like the Gallas and the Somal, who look upon the fowl as a
kind of vulture, they would not eat it: even in the present day they
avoid eggs. Some will devour animals that have died of disease, and
carrion,--the flesh of lions and leopards, elephants and rhinoceroses,
asses, wild cats and rats, beetles and white ants;--others refuse to
touch mutton or clean water-fowl, declaring that it is not their custom.
The prejudice has not, however, been reduced to a system, as amongst the
tribes of southern Africa. They rarely taste meat except upon the march,
where the prospect of gain excites them to an unusual indulgence: when a
bullock is killed, they either jerk the meat, or dry it upon a dwarf
platform of sticks raised above a slow and smoky fire, after which it
will keep for some days. The usual food is the ugali or porridge of
boiled flour: they find, however, a variety of edible herbs in the
jungle, and during the season they luxuriate upon honey and sour milk.
No Mnyamwezi, however, will own to repletion unless he has “sat upon
pombe,”--in other words, has drunk to intoxication; and the chiefs pride
themselves upon living entirely upon beef and stimulants.
The Wanyamwezi have won for themselves a reputation by their commercial
industry. Encouraged by the merchants, they are the only professional
porters of East Africa; and even amongst them, the Wakalaganza,
Wasumbwa, and Wasukuma are the only tribes who regularly visit the coast
in this capacity. They are now no longer “honest and civil to
strangers”--semi-civilisation has hitherto tended to degradation. They
seem to have learned but little by their intercourse with the Arabs.
Commerce with them is still in its infancy. They have no idea of credit,
although in Karagwah and the northern kingdoms payment may be delayed
for a period of two years. They cannot, like some of their neighbours,
bargain: a man names the article which he requires, and if it be not
forthcoming he will take no other. The porters, who linger upon the
coast or in the island of Zanzibar, either cut grass for asses, carry
stones and mortar to the town, for which they receive a daily hire of
from two to eight pice, or they obtain from the larger landholders
permission to reclaim and cultivate a plot of ground for vegetables and
manioc. They have little of the literature, songs and tales, common
amongst barbarians; and though they occasionally indulge in speeches,
they do not, like many kindred tribes, cultivate eloquence. On the march
they beguile themselves with chanting for hours together half a dozen
words eternally repeated. Their language is copious but confused, and
they are immoderately fond of simple and meaningless syllables used as
interjections. Their industry is confined to weaving coarse cloths of
unbleached cotton, neatly-woven baskets, wooden milk-bowls, saddle-bags
for their asses, and arms. They rear asses and load them lightly when
travelling to the coast, but they have not yet learned to ride them.
Though they carefully fence and ditch their fields, they have never
invented a plough, confining themselves to ridging the land with the
laborious hoe. They rarely sell one another, nor do they much encourage
the desertion of slaves. The wild bondsman, when running away, is
sometimes appropriated by his captor, but a Muwallid or domestic slave
is always restored after a month or two. The Arabs prefer to purchase
men sold under suspicion of magic; they rarely flee, fearing lest their
countrymen should put them to death.
As has been said, the government of Unyamwezi is conducted by a
multitude of petty chiefs. The ruling classes are thus called: Mtemi or
Mwáme is the chief or sultan, Mgáwe (in the plural Wágáwe) the principal
councillor, and Mánácháro, or Mnyapara (plural Wányápárá) the elder. The
ryots or subjects on the other hand are collectively styled Wasengi. The
most powerful chiefs are Fundikira of Unyanyembe, Masanga of Msene, and
Kafrira of Kiríra. The dignity of Mtemi is hereditary. He has power of
life and death over his subjects, and he seldom condescends to any but
mortal punishment. His revenue is composed of additions to his private
property by presents from travellers, confiscation of effects in cases
of felony or magic, by the sale of subjects, and by treasure trove. Even
if a man kill his own slave, the slave’s effects lapse to the ruler. The
villagers must give up all ivory found in the jungles, although the
hunters are allowed to retain the tusks of the slaughtered animals.
A few brief remarks concerning Fundikira, the chief of Unyamwezi in
1858, may serve to illustrate the condition of the ruling class in
Unyamwezi. This chief was travelling towards the coast as a porter in a
caravan, when he heard of his father’s death: he at once stacked his
load and prepared to return home and rule. The rest of the gang, before
allowing him to depart, taunted him severely, exclaiming, partly in
jest, partly in earnest, “Ah! now thou art still our comrade, but
presently thou wilt torture and slay, fine and flog us.” Fundikira
proceeding to his native country inherited, as is the custom, all his
father’s property and widows; he fixed himself at Ititenya, presently
numbered ten wives, who have borne him only three children, built 300
houses for his slaves and dependants, and owned 2000 head of cattle. He
lived in some state, declining to call upon strangers, and, though not
demanding still obtaining large presents. Becoming obese by age and good
living, he fell ill in the autumn of 1858, and, as usual, his relations
were suspected of compassing his end by Uchawi, or black magic. In these
regions the death of one man causes many. The Mganga was summoned to
apply the usual ordeal. After administering a mystic drug, he broke the
neck of a fowl, and splitting it into two lengths inspected the
interior. If blackness or blemish appear about the wings, it denotes the
treachery of children, relations and kinsmen; the backbone convicts the
mother and grandmother; the tail shows that the criminal is the wife,
the thighs the concubines, and the injured shanks or feet the other
slaves. Having fixed upon the class of the criminals, they are collected
together by the Mganga, who, after similarly dosing a second hen, throws
her up into the air above the heads of the crowd and singles out the
person upon whom she alights. Confession is extorted by tying the thumb
backwards till it touches the wrist or by some equally barbarous mode of
question. The consequence of condemnation is certain and immediate
death; the mode is chosen by the Mganga. Some are speared, others are
beheaded or “ammazati,”--clubbed:--a common way is to bind the cranium
between two stiff pieces of wood which are gradually tightened by cords
till the brain bursts out from the sutures. For women they practise a
peculiarly horrible kind of impalement. These atrocities continue until
the chief recovers or dies: at the commencement of his attack, in one
household eighteen souls, male and female, had been destroyed; should
his illness be protracted, scores will precede him to the grave, for the
Mchawi or magician must surely die.
The Wanyamwezi will generally sell their criminals and captives; when
want drives, they part with their wives, their children, and even their
parents. For economy, they import their serviles from Ujiji and the
adjoining regions; from the people lying towards the south-east angle of
the Tanganyika Lake, as the Wafipa, the Wapoka, and the Wagara; and from
the Nyanza races, and the northern kingdoms of Karagwah, Uganda, and
Unyoro.
[Illustration: My Tembe near the Tanganyika.]
CHAP. XIII.
AT LENGTH WE SIGHT THE LAKE TANGANYIKA, THE “SEA OF UJIJI.”
The route before us lay through a howling wilderness, once populous and
fertile, but now laid waste by the fierce Watuta. Snay bin Amir had
warned me that it would be our greatest trial of patience. The march
began badly: Mpete, the district on the right bank of the Malagarazi
River, is highly malarious, and the mosquitoes feasted right royally
upon our life, even during the day-time. We bivouacked under a shady
tree, within sight of the ferry, not knowing that upon the woody
eminences above the valley there are usually fine kraals of dry grass
and of mkora or myombo-bark. During the rainy monsoon the best
encampments in these regions are made of tree-sheets: two parallel
rings are cut in the bole, at a distance of six to seven feet; a
perpendicular slit then connects them, the bark is easily stripped off,
and the trunk, after having been left for a time to season, is filled
for use.
On the 5th of February we set out betimes, across a route traversing for
a short distance swampy ground along the river-side. It then stretched
over jungly and wooded hill-spires, with steep rough ascents and
descents, divided from neighbouring elevations by slippery mire-runs.
Exposed to the full break of the rainy monsoon, and the frequent
outbursts of fiery sun, I could not but admire the marvellous fertility
of the soil; an impervious luxuriance of vegetation veils the lowlands,
clothes the hill-sides, and caps their rounded summits. After marching
five hours and twenty minutes, we found a large kraal in the district of
Kinawani: the encamping ground,--partially cleared of the thick,
fetid, and putrescent vegetation around,--hugs the right bank of
the Malagarazi, and faces the village of Sultan Mzogera on the
southern or opposite side. A small store of provisions--grain and
sweet-potatoes--was purchased from the villagers of Kinawani, who
flocked across the stream to trade. They were, however, fanciful in
their requirements: beads, especially the coral porcelain, iron-wire,
salt, and meat. The heaviness of this march caused two of the Hammals
engaged at Usagozi to levant, and the remaining four to strike work. It
was therefore again necessary to mount ass--ten days after an attack of
“paraplegia!”
We left Kinawani on the next morning, and striking away from the river
we crossed rugged and rolling ground, divided by deep swamps of mire and
grass. To the southward ran the stream, rushing violently down a rocky
bed, with tall trees lining its banks. Sailing before the morning
east-wind, a huge mass of nimbus occupied the sky, and presently
discharged itself in an unusually heavy downfall: during the afternoon
the breeze veered as usual to the west, and the hot sunshine was for
once enjoyable. After a weary trudge of five hours and twenty minutes,
we entered a large and comfortable kraal, situated near a reach where
the swift and turbid river foamed over a discontinuous ledge of rock,
between avenues of dense and tangled jungle. No provisions were
procurable at this place; man appeared to have become extinct.
The 7th of February led us over broken ground, encumbered by forest, and
cut by swamps, with higher levels on the right hand, till we again fell
into the marshes and fields of the river-valley. The district on the
other side of the river, called Jambeho, is one of the most flourishing
in Uvinza; its villages of small bird-nest huts, and its carefully hoed
fields of grain and sweet-potato, affected the eye, after the dreary
monotony of a jungle-march, like the glimmer of a light at the end of a
night-march, or the discovery of land at the conclusion of a long
sea-voyage. The village ferry was instantly put into requisition, and
the chief, Ruwere, after receiving as his “dash” eight cloths, allowed
us to purchase provisions. At that season, however, the harvest of grain
and sweet-potatoes had not been got in, and for their single old hen the
people demanded an exorbitant price. We hastened, despite all
difficulties, to escape from this place of pestilence, which clouds of
mosquitoes rendered as uncomfortable as it was dangerous.
The next day ushered in our departure with drizzling rain, which
drenched the slippery paths of red clay; the asses, wild with wind and
weather, exposed us to accidents in a country of deep ravines and rugged
boulders. Presently diverging from the Malagarazi, we passed over the
brow of a low tree-clad hill above the junction of the Rusugi River, and
followed the left bank of this tributary as far as its nearer ford. The
Rusugi which drains the northern highlands into the Malagarazi, was then
about 100 yards in width: the bottom is a red ochreish soil, the strong
stream, divided in the centre by a long low strip of sand and gravel,
flowed at that time breast-deep, and its banks,--as usual with rivers in
these lands,--deeply cut by narrow watercourses, rendered travelling
unusually toilsome. At the Rusugi Ford the road separates into a
northern and a southern branch, a hill-spur forming the line of
demarcation. The northern strikes off to the district of Parugerero on
the left bank, where a shallower ford is found: the place in question is
a settlement of Wavinza, containing from forty to fifty bee-hive huts,
tenanted by salt-diggers. The principal pan is sunk in the vicinity of
the river, the saline produce, after being boiled down in the huts, is
piled up, and handmade into little cones. The pan affords tripartite
revenue to three sultans, and it constitutes the principal wealth of the
Wavinza: the salt here sold for one shukkah per masuta, or half-load,
and far superior to the bitter, nitrous produce of Ugogo, finds its way
throughout the heart of Africa, supplying the lands adjoining both the
Tanganyika and the Nyanza Lakes.
We followed the southern line which crosses the Rusugi River at the
branch islet. Fords are always picturesque. The men seemed to enjoy the
washing; their numbers protected them from the crocodiles, which fled
from their shouting and splashing; and they even ventured into deep
water, where swimming was necessary. We crossed as usual on a “unicorn”
of negroids, the upper part of the body supported by two men, and the
feet resting upon the shoulders of a third,--a posture somewhat similar
to that affected by gentlemen who find themselves unable to pull off
their own boots. Then remounting, we ascended the grassy rise on the
right of the stream, struggled, slipped, and slided over a muddy swamp,
climbed up a rocky and bushy ridge, and found ourselves ensconced in a
ragged and comfortless kraal upon the western slopes, within sight of
some deserted salt-pans below. As evening drew in, it became apparent
that the Goanese Gaetano, the five Wak’hutu porters, and Sarmalla, a
donkey-driving son of Ramji, had remained behind, in company with
several loads, the tent, two bags of clothes, my companion’s
elephant-gun, my bedding, and that of my servant. It was certain that
with this provision in the vicinity of Parugerero they would not starve,
and the porters positively refused to halt an hour more than necessary.
I found it therefore compulsory to advance. On the 11th February three
“children” of Said bin Salim consented, as usual, for a consideration,
to return and to bring up the laggers, and about a week afterwards they
entered Ujiji without accident. The five Wak’hutu porters, probably from
the persuasions of Muinyi Wazira, had, although sworn to fidelity with
the strongest oaths, carried into execution a long-organised plan of
desertion. Gaetano refused to march on the day of our separation,
because he was feverish, and he expected a riding-ass to be sent back
for him. He brought up our goods safely, but blankets, towels, and many
articles of clothing belonging to his companion, had disappeared. This
difficulty was, of course, attributed to the Wak’hutu porters; probably
the missing things had been sold for food by the Goanese and the son of
Ramji: I could not therefore complain of the excuse.
From the Msawahili Fundi,--fattore, manciple or steward--of a small
caravan belonging to an Arab merchant, Hamid bin Sulayyam, I purchased
for thirty-five cloths, about thrice its value, a little single-fold
tent of thin American domestics, through which sun and rain penetrated
with equal facility. Like the cloth-houses of the Arab travellers
generally, it was gable-shaped, six or seven feet high, about eight feet
long by four broad, and so light that with its bamboo-poles and its pegs
it scarcely formed a load for a man. On the 9th February, we descended
from the ridge upon which the kraal was placed, and traversed a deep
swamp of black mud, dotted in the more elevated parts with old salt-pans
and pits, where broken pottery and blackened lumps of clay still showed
traces of human handiwork. Beyond this low-land, the track, striking off
from the river-valley and turning to the right, entered toilsome ground.
We crossed deep and rocky ravines, with luxuriant vegetation above, and
with rivulets at the bottom trickling towards the Malagarazi, by
scrambling down and swarming up the roughest steps of rock, boulder, and
knotted tree-root. Beyond these difficulties lay woody and stony hills,
whose steep and slippery inclines were divided by half a dozen waters,
all more or less troublesome to cross. The porters, who were in a place
of famine, insisted upon pushing on to the utmost of their strength:
after six hours’ march, I persuaded them to halt in the bush upon a
rocky hill, where the neighbouring descent supplied water. The Fundi
visited the valley of the Rusugi River, and finding a herd of the Mbogo
or Bos Caffer, brought home a welcome addition to our well-nigh
exhausted rations.
The 10th February saw us crossing the normal sequence of jungly and
stony “neat’s-tongues,” divided by deep and grassy swamps, which,
stagnant in the dry weather, drain after rains the northern country to
the Malagarazi River. We passed over by a felled tree-trunk an
unfordable rivulet, hemmed in by a dense and fetid thicket; and the
asses summarily pitched down the muddy bank into the water, swam across
and wriggled up the slimy off-side like cats. Thence a foul swamp of
black mire led to the Ruguvu or Luguvu River, the western boundary of
Uvinza and the eastern frontier of Ukaranga. This stream, which can be
forded during the dry season, had spread out after the rains over its
borders of grassy plain; we were delayed till the next morning in a
miserable camping ground, a mud-bank thinly veiled with vegetation, in
order to bridge it with branching trees. An unusual downfall during the
night might have caused serious consequences;--provisions had now
disappeared, moreover the porters considered the place dangerous.