craft are monoxyles, generally damaged in the bow by the fishermen’s
fire. The larger are long, narrow “matumbi,” or canoes, rudely hollowed
with the axe--the application of fire being still to be invented,--in
fact, a mere log of mvule, or some other large tree which abound in the
land of the Wagoma, opposite Ujiji. The trunks are felled, scooped out
in loco, dragged and pushed by man-power down the slopes, and finally
launched and paddled over to their destination. The most considerable
are composed of three parts--clumsy, misshapen planks, forming, when
placed side by side, a keel and two gunwales, the latter fastened to
the centre-piece by cords of palm-fibre passing through lines of holes.
The want of caulking causes excessive leakage: the crew take duty as
balesmen in turns. The cry Senga!--bale out!--rarely ceases, and the
irregular hollowing of the tree-trunks makes them lie lopsided in the
water. These vessels have neither masts nor sails; artifices which now
do not extend to this part of the African world. An iron ring, fixed in
the stern, is intended for a rudder, which, however, seldom appears
except in the canoes of the Arabs, steering is managed by the paddle,
and a flag-staff or a fishing-rod projects jib-like from the bow. Layers
of palm-ribs, which serve for fuel, are strewed over the interior to
raise the damageable cargo--it is often of salt--above the bilge-water.
The crew sit upon narrow benches, extending across the canoe and
fastened with cords to holes in the two side-pieces; upon each bench,
despite the narrowness of the craft, two men place themselves side by
side. The “Karagwah,” stout stiff mats used for hutting and bedding, are
spread for comfort upon the seats; and for convenience of paddling, the
sailors, when at work, incline their bodies over the sides. The space
under the seats is used for stowage. In the centre there is a square
place, about six feet long, left clear of benches; here also cargo is
stored, passengers, cattle, and slaves litter down, the paddles, gourds,
and other furniture of the crew are thrown, and the baling is carried on
by means of an old gourd. The hold is often ankle-deep in water, and
affords no convenience for leaning or lying down; the most comfortable
place, therefore, is near the stern or the bow of the boat. The spears
are planted upright amidships, at one or two corners of the central
space so as to be ready at a moment’s notice; each man usually has his
dagger stuck in his belt, and on long trips all are provided with bows
and arrows. These Africans cannot row; indeed they will not use oars.
The paddle on the Tanganyika is a stout staff, about six feet long, and
cut out at the top to admit a trefoil-shaped block the size of a man’s
hand:--it was described in South Africa by Captain Owen. The block,
adorned with black paint in triangular patches, is lashed to the staff
by a bit of whipcord, and it seldom lasts through the day without
breaking away from its frail tackling. The paddler, placing one hand on
the top and the other about the middle of the staff, scoops up as it
were, the water in front of him, steadying his paddle by drawing it
along the side of the canoe. The eternal splashing keeps the boat wet.
It is a laborious occupation, and an excessive waste of power.
The Lake People derive their modern practice of navigation, doubtless,
from days of old; the earliest accounts of the Portuguese mention the
traffic of this inland sea. They have three principal beats from Ujiji:
the northern abuts at the ivory and slave marts of Uvira; the western
conducts to the opposite shores of the Lake and the island depôts on the
south-west; and the southern leads to the land of Marunga. Their canoes
creep along the shores like the hollowed elders of thirty bygone
centuries, and, waiting till the weather augurs fairly, they make a
desperate push for the other side. Nothing but their extreme timidity,
except when emboldened by the prospect of a speedy return home,
preserves their cranky craft from constant accidents. The Arabs, warned
by the past, rarely trust themselves to this Lake of Storms, preferring
the certain peculation incurred by deputing for trading purposes agents
and slaves to personal risk. Those who must voyage on the lake build,
by means of their menials and artisans, dows, or sailing-vessels, and
teach their newly-bought gangs to use oars instead of paddles. This is
rather an economy of money than of time: they expend six months upon
making the dow, whereas they can buy the largest canoe for a few
farasilah of ivory.
As my outfit was already running low, I persuaded, before departure, two
of the Baloch to return with a down-caravan westwards, and arrived at
Unyanyembe, to communicate personally with my agent, Snay bin Amir. They
agreed so to do, but the Mtongi, or head of the African kafilah, with
true African futility, promised to take them on the next day, and set
out that night on his journey. As Said bin Majid was about despatching a
large armed party to the north of the Lake, I then hurried on my
preparations for the voyage. Provisions and tobacco were laid in, the
tent was repaired, and our outfit, four half loads of salt--of these two
were melted in the canoe, six Gorah,--or one load of domestics, nine
coil-bracelets, the remainder of our store, one load of blue porcelain
beads, and a small bag of the valuable red coral intended for private
expenses, and “El Akibah” (the reserve), was properly packed for
concealment. Meanwhile some trifling disputes occurred with Kannena, who
was in the habit of coming to our Tembe, drunk and surly, with eyes like
two gouts of blood, knitted front, and lips viciously shot out: when
contradicted or opposed, he screamed and gesticulated as if haunted by
his P’hepo,--his fiend;--and when very evilly disposed, he would proceed
to the extreme measure of cutting down a tent. This slave-sultan was a
“son of noise:” he affected _brusquerie_ of manner and violence of
demeanour the better to impressionise his unruly subjects; and he
frightened the timid souls around us, till at last the Jemadar’s phrase
was, “strength is useless here.” Had I led, however, three hundred
instead of thirty matchlocks, he would have crouched and cowered like a
whipped cur.
At 4 P.M., on the 9th April, appeared before the Kannena in a tattered
red turban donned for the occasion. He was accompanied by his ward, who
was to perform the voyage as a training to act sultan, and he was
followed by his sailors bearing salt, in company with their loud-voiced
wives and daughters performing upon the wildest musical instruments. Of
these the most noisy was a kind of shaum, a straight, long and narrow
tube of wood, bound with palm-fibre and provided with an opening mouth
like a clarionet; a distressing bray is kept up by blowing through a
hole pierced in the side. The most monotonous was a pair of
foolscap-shaped plates of thin iron, joined at the apices and connected
at the bases by a solid cross-bar of the same metal; this rude tomtom is
performed upon by a muffled stick with painful perseverance; the
sound--how harshly it intruded upon the stilly beauty of the scenes
around!--still lingers and long shall linger in my tympanum. The canoe
had been moved from its usual position opposite our Tembe, to a place of
known departure--otherwise not a soul could have been persuaded to
embark--and ignoring the distance, I condemned myself to a hobble of
three miles over rough and wet ground. The night was comfortless; the
crew, who were all “half-seas over,” made the noise of bedlamites; and
two heavy falls of rain drenching the flimsy tent, at once spoiled the
tobacco and flour, the grain and the vegetables prepared for the voyage.
Early on the next morning we embarked on board the canoes: the crews had
been collected, paid, and rationed, but as long as they were near home
it was impossible to keep them together. Each man thinking solely of
his own affairs, and disdaining the slightest regard for the wishes, the
comfort, or the advantage of his employers, they objected systematically
to every article which I had embarked. Kannena had filled the canoes
with his and his people’s salt, consequently he would not carry even a
cartel. Various points settled we hove anchor or rather hauled up the
block of granite doing anchoral duty, and with the usual hubbub and
strife, the orders which every man gives and the advice which no man
takes, we paddled in half an hour to a shingly and grassy creek,
defended by a sandpit and backed by a few tall massive trees. Opposite
and but a few yards distant, rose the desert islet of Bangwe, a
quoin-shaped mass of sandstone and red earth, bluff to the north and
gradually shelving towards the water at the other extremity: the
prolific moisture above and around had covered its upper ledge with a
coat of rich thick vegetation. Landward the country rises above the
creek, and upon its earth-waves, which cultivation shares with wild
growth, appear a few scattered hamlets.
Boats generally waste some days at Bangwe Bay, the stage being short
enough for the usual scene being encored. They load and reload, trim
cargo, complete rations, collect crews, and take leave of friends and
relatives, women, and palm-wine. We pitched a tent and halted in a
tornado of wind and rain. Kannena would not move without the present of
one of our three goats. At 4 P.M., on the 11th April, the canoes were
laden and paddled out to and back from Bangwe islet, when those knowing
in such matters pronounced them so heavily weighted as to be unsafe:
whereupon, the youth Riza, sorely against my will, was sent back to the
Kawele. On that night a furious gale carried away my tent, whilst the
Goanese were, or pretended to be, out of hearing. I slept, however,
comfortably enough upon the crest of a sand-wave higher than the puddles
around it, and--blessings on the name of Mackintosh!--escaped the
pitiless pelting of the rain.
The next morning showed a calm sea, levelled by the showers, and no
pretext or desire for longer detention lingered in the hearts of the
crew. At 7·20 A.M., on the 12th April, 1858, my canoe--bearing for the
first time on those dark waters--
“The flag that braved a thousand years
The battle and the breeze,”
stood out of Bangwe Bay, and followed by my companion’s turned the
landspit separating the bight from the main, and made directly for the
cloudy and storm-vexed north. The eastern shore of the lake, along which
we coasted, was a bluff of red earth pudding’d with separate blocks of
sandstone. Beyond this headland the coast dips, showing lines of shingle
or golden-coloured quartzose sand, and on the shelving plain appear the
little fishing-villages. They are usually built at the mouths of the
gaps, combes, and gullies, whose deep gorges winding through the
background of hill-curtain, become, after rains, the beds of
mountain-torrents. The wretched settlements are placed between the tree
clad declivities and the shore on which the waves break. The sites are
far from comfortable: the ground is here veiled with thick and fetid
grass; there it is a puddle of black mud, and there a rivulet trickles
through the villages. The hamlet consists of half a dozen beehive-huts,
foul, flimsy, and leaky; their only furniture is a hearth of three clods
or stones, with a few mats and fishing implements. The settlements are
distinguished from a distance by their plantations of palm and
plantain, and by large spreading trees, from whose branches are
suspended the hoops and the drag-nets not in actual use, and under whose
shade the people sit propped against their monoxyles, which are drawn
high up out of danger of the surf. There was no trade, and few
provisions were procurable at Kigari. We halted there to rest, and
pitching a tent in the thick grass we spent a night loud with wind and
rain.
Rising at black dawn on the 13th April, the crews rowed hard for six
hours between Kigari and another dirty little fishing-village called
Nyasanga. The settlement supplied fish-fry, but neither grain nor
vegetables were offered for sale. At this place, the frontier district
between Ujiji and Urundi, our Wajiji took leave of their fellow-clansmen
and prepared with serious countenances for all the perils of
expatriation.
This is the place for a few words concerning boating and voyaging upon
the Tanganyika Lakes. The Wajiji, and indeed all these races, never work
silently or regularly. The paddling is accompanied by a long monotonous
melancholy howl, answered by the yells and shouts of the chorus, and
broken occasionally by a shrill scream of delight from the boys which
seems violently to excite the adults. The bray and clang of the horns,
shaums, and tomtoms, blown and banged incessantly by one or more men in
the bow of each canoe, made worse by brazen-lunged imitations of these
instruments in the squeaking trebles of the younger paddlers, lasts
throughout the livelong day, except when terror induces a general
silence. These “Wáná Máji”--sons of water--work in “spirts,” applying
lustily to the task till the perspiration pours down their sooty
persons. Despite my remonstrances, they insisted upon splashing the
water in shovelsful over the canoe. They make terribly long faces,
however, they tremble like dogs in a storm of sleet, and they are ready
to whimper when compelled by sickness or accident to sit with me under
the endless cold wave-bath in the hold. After a few minutes of exertion,
fatigued and worn, they stop to quarrel, or they progress languidly till
recruited for another effort. When two boats are together they race
continually till a bump--the signal for a general grin--and the
difficulty of using the entangled paddles afford an excuse for a little
loitering, and for the loud chatter, and violent abuse, without which
apparently this people cannot hold converse. At times they halt to eat,
drink, and smoke: the bhang-pipe is produced after every hour, and the
paddles are taken in whilst they indulge in the usual screaming
convulsive whooping-cough. They halt for their own purposes but not for
ours; all powers of persuasion fail when they are requested to put into
a likely place for collecting shells or stones.[4] For some
superstitious reason they allow no questions to be asked, they will not
dip a pot for water into the lake, fearing to be followed and perhaps
boarded by crocodiles, which are hated and dreaded by these black
navigators, much as is the shark by our seamen, and for the same cause
not a scrap of food must be thrown overboard--even the offal must be
cast into the hold. “Whittling” is here a mortal sin: to chip or break
off the smallest bit of even a condemned old tub drawn up on the beach
causes a serious disturbance. By the advice of a kind and amiable
friend[5], I had supplied myself with the desiderata for sounding and
ascertaining the bottom of the Lake: the crew would have seen me under
water rather than halt for a moment when it did not suit their purpose.
The wild men lose half an hour, when time is most precious, to secure a
dead fish as it floats past the canoe entangled in its net. They never
pass a village without a dispute; some wishing to land, others objecting
because some wish it. The captain, who occupies some comfortable place
in the bow, stern, or waist, has little authority; and if the canoe be
allowed to touch the shore, its men will spring out without an idea of
consulting aught beyond their own inclinations. Arrived at the
halting-place they pour on shore; some proceed to gather firewood,
others go in search of rations, and others raise the boothies. A dozen
barked sticks of various lengths are planted firmly in the ground; the
ends are bent and lashed together in the shape of half an orange, by
strips of tree-fibre; they are then covered with the karagwah--the
stiff-reed mats used as cushions when paddling--these are tightly bound
on, and thus a hut is made capable of defending from rain the bodies of
four or five men whose legs which project beyond the shelter are
apparently not supposed to require covering. Obeying only impulse, and
wholly deficient in order and purpose, they make the voyage as
uncomfortable as possible; they have no regular stages and no fixed
halting-places; they waste a fine cool morning, and pull through the
heat of the day, or after dozing throughout the evening, at the loud cry
of “Pakírá Bábá!”--pack up, hearties!--they scramble into their canoes
about midnight. Outward-bound they seek opportunities for delay; when it
is once “up anchor for home,” they hurry with dangerous haste.
[4] THE FOLLOWING PAPER BY S. P. WOODWARD, F.G.S., COMMUNICATED BY
PROF. OWEN, APPEARED IN THE PROCEEDINGS OF THE ZOOLOGICAL SOCIETY OF
LONDON, JUNE 28, 1859.
The four shells which form the subject of the present note were
collected by Captain Speke in the great freshwater lake Tanganyika in
Central Africa.
The large bivalve belongs to the genus _Iridina_, Lamarck,--a group of
river mussels, of which there are nine reputed species, all belonging
to the African continent. This little group has been divided into
several sub-genera. That to which the new shell belongs is
distinguished by its broad and deeply-wrinkled hinge-line, and is
called _Pleiodon_ by Conrad. The posterior slope of this shell is
encrusted with tufa, as if there were limestone rocks in the vicinity
of its habitat.
The small bivalve is a normal _Unio_, with finely sculptured valves.
The smaller univalve is concave beneath, and so much resembles a
_Nerita_ or _Calyptræa_ that it would be taken for a sea-shell if its
history were not well authenticated. It agrees essentially with
_Lithoglyphus_,--a genus peculiar to the Danube; for the American
shells referred to it are probably, or, I may say, certainly distinct.
It agrees with the Danubian shells in the extreme obliquity of the
aperture, and differs in the width of the umbilicus, which in the
European species is nearly concealed by the callous columellar lip.
In the Upper Eocene Tertiaries of the Isle of Wight there are several
estuary shells, forming the genus _Globulus_, Sow., whose affinities
are uncertain, but which resemble _Lithoglyphus_.
The lake Tanganyika (situated in lat. 3° to 8° S. and long. 30° E.),
which is several hundred miles in length and 30 to 40 in breadth,
seems entirely disconnected with the region of the Danube: but the
separation may not always have been so complete, for there is another
great lake, Nyanza, to the northward of Tanganyika, which is believed
by Speke to be the principal source of the Nile.
The other univalve is a _Melania_, of the sub-genus _Melanella_
(Swainson), similar in shape to _M. hollandi_ of S. Europe, and
similar to several Eocene species of the Isle of Wight. Its colour,
solidity, and tuberculated ribs give it much the appearance of a small
marine whelk (_Nassa_); and it is found in more boisterous waters, on
the shores of this great inland sea, than most of its congeners
inhabit.
1. IRIDINA (PLEIODON) SPEKII, n. sp. (Pl. XLVII. fig. 2.)
Shell oblong, ventricose, somewhat attenuated at each end: base
slightly concave; epidermis chestnut brown, deepening to black at the
margin; anterior slope obscurely radiated; hinge-line compressed in
front and tuberculated, wider behind and deeply wrinkled.
Length 4¾, breadth 2, thickness 1¾ inches.
_Testa oblonga, tumida, extremitatibus fere attenuata, basi
subarcuata; epidermide castaneo-fusca, marginem versus nigricante;
linea cardinali antice compressa tuberculata, postice latiore, paucis
rugis arata._
2. UNIO BURTONI, n. sp. (Pl. XLVII. fig. 1.)
Shell small, oval, rather thin, somewhat pointed behind; umbones
small, not eroded; pale olive, concentrically furrowed, and sculptured
more or less with fine divaricating lines; anterior teeth narrow, not
prominent; posterior teeth laminar; pedal scar confluent with anterior
adductor.
Length 12, breadth 8½, thickness 5½ lines.
_Testa parva, ovalis, tenuiuscula, postice subattenuata; umbonibus
parvis, acuminatis; epidermide pallide olivacea; valvis lineolis
divaricatis, decussatum exaratis; dentibus cardinalibus angustis, haud
prominentibus._
3. LITHOGLYPHUS ZONATUS, n. sp. (Pl. XLVII. fig. 3.)
Shell orbicular, hemispherical; spire very small; aperture large, very
oblique; umbilicus wide and shallow, with an open fissure in the young
shell; lip continuous in front with the umbilical ridge; columella
callous, ultimately covering the fissure; body-whirl flattened, pale
olivaceous, with two brown bands, darker at the apex; lines of growth
crossed by numerous oblique, interrupted striæ.
Diameter 5-6, height 3 lines.
_Testa orbicularis, hemisphærica, late umbilicata (apud juniores
rimata), spira minuta; apertura magna, valde obliqua; labio calloso
(in testa adulta rimam tegente); pallide olivacea, fasciis duabus
fuscis zonata; lineis incrementi striolis interruptis oblique
decussatis._
4. MELANIA (MELANELLA) NASSA, n. sp. (Pl. XLVII. fig. 4.)
Shell ovate, strong, pale brown, with (sometimes) two dark bands;
spire shorter than the aperture; whirls flattened, ornamented with six
brown spiral ridges crossed with a variable number of white,
tuberculated, transverse ribs; base of body-whirl eight with
tuberculated spiral ridges variegated with white and brown; aperture
sinuated in front; outer lip simple; inner lip callous.
Length 8½, breadth 5½ lines.
_Testa ovata, solida, pallide fusca, zonis 2 nigricantibus aliquando
notata; spira apertura breviore; anfractibus planulatis, lineis 6
fuscis spiralibus et costis tuberculatis ornatis; apertura antice
sinuata; labro simplici; labio calloso._
P.S. July 27th.--In addition to the foregoing shells, several others
were collected by Capt. Speke, when employed, under the command of
Capt. Burton, in exploring Central Africa in the years 1856-9; these
were deposited in the first instance with the Geographical Society,
and are now transferred to the British Museum.
A specimen of _Ampullaria (Lanistes) sinistrorsa_, Lea, and odd valves
of two species of _Unio_, both smooth and olive-coloured, were picked
up in the Ugogo district, an elevated plateau in lat. 6° to 7° S.,
long. 34° to 35° E.
A large _Achatina_, most nearly related to _A. glutinosa_, Pfr., is
the “common snail” of the region between lake Tanganyika and the east
coast. Fossil specimens were obtained in the Usagara district, at a
place called Marora, 3000 feet above the sea, overlooking the Lufiji
River, where it intersects the coast range (lat. 7° to 8° S., long.
36° to 36° E.).
Another common land snail of the same district is the well known
“_Bulimus caillaudi_, Pfr.,” a shell more nearly related to _Achatina_
than _Bulimus_.
Captain Speke also found a solitary example of _Bulimus ovoideus_,
Brug., in a musjid on the island of Kiloa (lat. 9° S., long. 39° to
40° E.). This species is identical with _B. grandis_, Desh., from the
island of Nosse Bé, Madagascar, and very closely allied to _B.
liberianus_, Lea, from Guinea.
[5] Captain Balfour, H.M.I.N., who kindly supplied me with a list of
necessaries for sail-making and other such operations on the Lake. I
had indented upon the Engineers’ Stores, Bombay, for a Massey’s patent
or self-registering log, which would have been most useful had the
people allowed it to be used. Prevented by stress of business from
testing it in India, I found it at sea so thoroughly defective, that
it was returned from whence it came by the good aid of Captain
Frushard, then commanding the H.E.I.C.’s sloop of war _Elphinstone_. I
then prepared at Zanzibar, a line and a lead, properly hollowed to
admit of its being armed, and this safely reached the Tanganyika Lake.
It was not useless but unused: the crew objected to its being hove,
and moreover--lead and metal are never safe in Central Africa--the
line, which was originally short, was curtailed of one half during the
first night after our departure from Kawele. It is by no means easy to
estimate the rate of progress in these barbarous canoes barbarously
worked. During the “spirts” when the paddler bends his back manfully
to his task, a fully-manned craft may attain a maximum of 7 to 8 miles
per hour: this exertion, however, rarely exceeds a quarter of an hour,
and is always followed by delay. The usual pace, when all are fresh
and cool, is about 4 to 5 miles, which declines through 4 and 3 to 2½,
when the men are fatigued, or when the sun is high. The medium,
therefore, may be assumed at 4 miles for short, and a little more than
2 miles an hour for long trips, halts deducted.
On the 14th April, a cruise of four hours conducted us to Wafanya, a
settlement of Wajiji mixed with Warundi. Leaving this wretched mass of
hovels on the next day, which began with a solemn warning from Sayfu--a
man of melancholic temperament--we made in four hours Wafanya, the
southern limit of Urundi, and the only port in that inhospitable land
still open to travellers. Drawing up our canoes upon a clear narrow
sandstrip beyond the reach of the surf, we ascended a dwarf earth-cliff,
and pitching our tents under a spreading tree upon the summit, we made
ourselves as comfortable as the noisy, intrusive, and insolent crowd,
assembled to stare and to laugh at the strangers, would permit. The crew
raised their boothies within a stone-throw of the water, flight being
here the thought ever uppermost in their minds.