A valley of despond, and hot-bed of malaria.--Myriads of
vermin.--The Makata swamp.--A sorrowful experience catching
a deserter.--A far-embracing prospect.--Illness of William
Farquhar.-Lake Ugombo.--A land of promise.--The great
Kisesa.--The plague of earwigs.
The distance from Bagamoyo to Simbamwenni we found to be 119 miles,
and was accomplished in fourteen marches. But these marches, owing to
difficulties arising from the Masika season, and more especially to the
lagging of the fourth caravan under Maganga, extended to twenty-nine
days, thus rendering our progress very slow indeed--but a little more
than four miles a-day. I infer, from what I have seen of the travelling,
that had I not been encumbered by the sick Wanyamwezi porters, I could
have accomplished the distance in sixteen days. For it was not the
donkeys that proved recreant to my confidence; they, poor animals,
carrying a weight of 150 lbs. each, arrived at Simbamwenni in first-rate
order; but it was Maganga, composed of greed and laziness, and his
weakly-bodied tribe, who were ever falling sick. In dry weather the
number of marches might have been much reduced. Of the half-dozen
of Arabs or so who preceded this Expedition along this route, two
accomplished the entire distance in eight days. From the brief
descriptions given of the country, as it day by day expanded to our
view, enough may be gleaned to give readers a fair idea of it. The
elevation of Simbamwenni cannot be much over 1,000 feet above the level,
the rise of the land having been gradual. It being the rainy season,
about which so many ominous statements were doled out to us by those
ignorant of the character of the country, we naturally saw it under its
worst aspect; but, even in this adverse phase of it, with all its depth
of black mud, its excessive dew, its dripping and chill grass, its
density of rank jungle, and its fevers, I look back upon the scene with
pleasure, for the wealth and prosperity it promises to some civilized
nation, which in some future time will come and take possession of it. A
railroad from Bagamoyo to Simbamwenni might be constructed with as
much ease and rapidity as, and at far less cost than the Union Pacific
Railway, whose rapid strides day by day towards completion the world
heard of and admired. A residence in this part of Africa, after a
thorough system of drainage had been carried out, would not be attended
with more discomfort than generally follows upon the occupation of new
land. The temperature at this season during the day never exceeded 85
degrees Fahrenheit. The nights were pleasant--too cold without a pair
of blankets for covering; and, as far as Simbamwenni, they were without
that pest which is so dreadful on the Nebraska and Kansas prairies,
the mosquito. The only annoyances I know of that would tell hard on the
settler is the determined ferocity of the mabungu, or horse-fly; the
chufwa, &c., already described, which, until the dense forests and
jungles were cleared, would be certain to render the keeping of domestic
cattle unremunerative.
Contrary to expectation the Expedition was not able to start at the end
of two days; the third and the fourth days were passed miserably enough
in the desponding valley of Ungerengeri. This river, small as it is in
the dry seasons, becomes of considerable volume and power during the
Masika, as we experienced to our sorrow. It serves as a drain to a score
of peaks and two long ranges of mountains; winding along their base, it
is the recipient of the cascades seen flashing during the few intervals
of sunlight, of all the nullahs and ravines which render the lengthy
frontage of the mountain slopes so rugged and irregular, until it glides
into the valley of Simbamwenni a formidable body of water, opposing a
serious obstacle to caravans without means to build bridges; added to
which was an incessant downfall of rain--such a rain as shuts people
in-doors and renders them miserable and unamiable--a real London
rain--an eternal drizzle accompanied with mist and fog. When the sun
shone it appeared but a pale image of itself, and old pagazis, wise in
their traditions as old whaling captains, shook their heads ominously at
the dull spectre, and declared it was doubtful if the rain would cease
for three weeks yet.
The site of the caravan camp on the hither side of the Ungerengeri was a
hot-bed of malaria, unpleasant to witness--an abomination to memory.
The filth of generations of pagazis had gathered innumerable hosts
of creeping things. Armies of black, white, and red ants infest the
stricken soil; centipedes, like worms, of every hue, clamber over shrubs
and plants; hanging to the undergrowth are the honey-combed nests
of yellow-headed wasps with stings as harmful as scorpions; enormous
beetles, as large as full-grown mice, roll dunghills over the ground; of
all sorts, shapes, sizes, and hues are the myriad-fold vermin with which
the ground teems; in short, the richest entomological collection could
not vie in variety and numbers with the species which the four walls of
my tent enclosed from morning until night.
On the fifth morning, or the 23rd April, the rain gave us a few hours'
respite, during which we managed to wade through the Stygian quagmire
reeking with noisomeness to the inundated river-bank. The soldiers
commenced at 5 A.M. to convey the baggage across from bank to bank over
a bridge which was the most rustic of the rustic kind. Only an ignorant
African would have been satisfied with its small utility as a means to
cross a deep and rapid body of water. Even for light-footed Wanyamwezi
pagazis it was anything but comfortable to traverse. Only a professional
tight-rope performer could have carried a load across with ease. To
travel over an African bridge requires, first, a long leap from land to
the limb of a tree (which may or may not be covered by water), followed
by a long jump ashore. With 70 lbs. weight on his back, the carrier
finds it difficult enough. Sometimes he is assisted by ropes
extemporized from the long convolvuli which hang from almost every tree,
but not always, these being deemed superfluities by the Washensi.
Fortunately the baggage was transferred without a single accident, and
though the torrent was strong, the donkeys were dragged through the
flood by vigorous efforts and much objurgation without a casualty.
This performance of crossing the Ungerengeri occupied fully five hours,
though energy, abuse, and fury enough were expended for an army.
Reloading and wringing our clothes dry, we set out from the horrible
neighbourhood of the river, with its reek and filth, in a northerly
direction, following a road which led up to easy and level ground. Two
obtruding hills were thus avoided on our left, and after passing them we
had shut out the view of the hateful valley.
I always found myself more comfortable and lighthearted while travelling
than when chafing and fretting in camp at delays which no effort could
avoid, and consequently I fear that some things, while on a march, may
be tinted somewhat stronger than their appearance or merit may properly
warrant. But I thought that the view opening before us was much more
agreeable than the valley of Simbamwenni with all its indescribable
fertility. It was a series of glades opening one after another between
forest clumps of young trees, hemmed in distantly by isolated peaks
and scattered mountains. Now and again, as we crested low eminences
we caught sight of the blue Usagara mountains, bounding the horizon
westerly and northerly, and looked down upon a vast expanse of plain
which lay between.
At the foot of the lengthy slope, well-watered by bubbling springs and
mountain rills, we found a comfortable khambi with well-made huts, which
the natives call Simbo. It lies just two hours or five miles north-west
of the Ungerengeri crossing. The ground is rocky, composed principally
of quartzose detritus swept down by the constant streams. In the
neighbourhood of these grow bamboo, the thickest of which was about two
and a half inches in diameter; the "myombo," a very shapely tree, with
a clean trunk like an ash, the "imbite," with large, fleshy leaves like
the "mtamba," sycamore, plum-tree, the "ugaza," ortamarisk, and the
"mgungu," a tree containing several wide branches with small leaves
clustered together in a clump, and the silk-cotton tree.
Though there are no villages or settlements in view of Simbo Khambi,
there are several clustered within the mountain folds, inhabited by
Waseguhha somewhat prone to dishonest acts and murder.
The long broad plain visible from the eminences crossed between the
Ungerengeri and Simbo was now before us, and became known to sorrowful
memory subsequently, as the Makata Valley. The initial march was from
Simbo, its terminus at Rehenneko, at the base of the Usagara mountains,
six marches distant. The valley commences with broad undulations,
covered with young forests of bamboo, which grow thickly along the
streams, the dwarf fan-palm, the stately Palmyra, and the mgungu. These
undulations soon become broken by gullies containing water, nourishing
dense crops of cane reeds and broad-bladed grass, and, emerging from
this district, wide savannah covered with tall grass open into view,
with an isolated tree here and there agreeably breaking the monotony of
the scene. The Makata is a wilderness containing but one village of the
Waseguhha throughout its broad expanse. Venison, consequently, abounds
within the forest clumps, and the kudu, hartebeest, antelope, and zebra
may be seen at early dawn emerging into the open savannahs to feed. At
night, the cyn-hyaena prowls about with its hideous clamour seeking for
sleeping prey, man or beast.
The slushy mire of the savannahs rendered marching a work of great
difficulty; its tenacious hold of the feet told terribly on men
and animals. A ten-mile march required ten hours, we were therefore
compelled to camp in the middle of this wilderness, and construct a new
khambi, a measure which was afterwards adopted by half a dozen caravans.
The cart did not arrive until nearly midnight, and with it, besides
three or four broken-down pagazis, came Bombay with the dolorous tale,
that having put his load--consisting of the property tent, one large
American axe, his two uniform coats, his shirts, beads and cloth,
powder, pistol, and hatchet--on the ground, to go and assist the cart
out of a quagmire, he had returned to the place where he had left it
and could not find it, that he believed that some thieving Washensi, who
always lurk in the rear of caravans to pick up stragglers, had decamped
with it. Which dismal tale told me at black midnight was not received
at all graciously, but rather with most wrathful words, all of which
the penitent captain received as his proper due. Working myself into a
fury, I enumerated his sins to him; he had lost a goat at Muhalleh, he
had permitted Khamisi to desert with valuable property at Imbiki; he had
frequently shown culpable negligence in not looking after the donkeys,
permitting them to be tied up at night without seeing that they had
water, and in the mornings, when about to march, he preferred to sleep
until 7 o'clock, rather than wake up early and saddle the donkeys, that
we might start at 6 o'clock; he had shown of late great love for the
fire, cowering like a bloodless man before it, torpid and apathetic; he
had now lost the property-tent in the middle of the Masika season, by
which carelessness the cloth bales would rot and become valueless; he
had lost the axe which I should want at Ujiji to construct my boat; and
finally, he had lost a pistol and hatchet, and a flaskful of the best
powder. Considering all these things, how utterly incompetent he was
to be captain, I would degrade him from his office and appoint Mabruki
Burton instead. Uledi, also, following the example of Bombay, instead of
being second captain, should give no orders to any soldiers in future,
but should himself obey those given by Mabruki--the said Mabruki being
worth a dozen Bombays, and two dozen Uledis; and so he was dismissed
with orders to return at daylight to find the tent, axe, pistol, powder,
and hatchet.
The next morning the caravan, thoroughly fatigued with the last day's
exertions, was obliged to halt. Bombay was despatched after the
lost goods; Kingaru, Mabruki the Great, and Mabruki the Little were
despatched to bring back three doti-worth of grain, on which we were to
subsist in the wilderness.
Three days passed away and we were still at camp, awaiting, with what
patience we possessed, the return of the soldiers. In the meantime
provisions ran very low, no game could be procured, the birds were so
wild. Two days shooting procured but two potfuls of birds, consisting
of grouse, quail, and pigeons. Bombay returned unsuccessfully from his
search after the missing property, and suffered deep disgrace.
On the fourth day I despatched Shaw with two more soldiers, to see what
had become of Kingaru and the two Mabrukis. Towards night he returned
completely prostrated, with a violent attack of the mukunguru, or ague;
but bringing the missing soldiers, who were thus left to report for
themselves.
With most thankful hearts did we quit our camp, where so much anxiety
of mind and fretfulness had been suffered, not heeding a furious rain,
which, after drenching us all night, might have somewhat damped our
ardor for the march under other circumstances. The road for the first
mile led over reddish ground, and was drained by gentle slopes falling
east and west; but, leaving the cover of the friendly woods, on whose
eastern margin we had been delayed so long, we emerged into one of the
savannahs, whose soil during the rain is as soft as slush and tenacious
as thick mortar, where we were all threatened with the fate of the
famous Arkansas traveller, who had sunk so low in one of the many
quagmires in Arkansas county, that nothing but his tall "stove-pipe" hat
was left visible.
Shaw was sick, and the whole duty of driving the foundering caravan
devolved upon myself. The Wanyamwezi donkeys stuck in the mire as if
they were rooted to it. As fast as one was flogged from his stubborn
position, prone to the depths fell another, giving me a Sisyphean
labour, which was maddening trader pelting rain, assisted by such men
as Bombay and Uledi, who could not for a whole skin's sake stomach the
storm and mire. Two hours of such a task enabled me to drag my caravan
over a savannah one mile and a half broad; and barely had I finished
congratulating myself over my success before I was halted by a deep
ditch, which, filled with rain-water from the inundated savannahs, had
become a considerable stream, breast-deep, flowing swiftly into the
Makata. Donkeys had to be unloaded, led through a torrent, and loaded
again on the other bank--an operation which consumed a full hour.
Presently, after straggling through a wood clump, barring our progress
was another stream, swollen into a river. The bridge being swept away,
we were obliged to swim and float our baggage over, which delayed us
two hours more. Leaving this second river-bank, we splashed, waded,
occasionally half-swimming, and reeled through mire, water-dripping
grass and matama stalks, along the left bank of the Makata proper, until
farther progress was effectually prevented for that day by a deep bend
of the river, which we should be obliged to cross the next day.
Though but six miles were traversed during that miserable day, the march
occupied ten hours.
Half dead with fatigue, I yet could feel thankful that it was not
accompanied by fever, which it seemed a miracle to avoid; for if ever a
district was cursed with the ague, the Makata wilderness ranks foremost
of those afflicted. Surely the sight of the dripping woods enveloped
in opaque mist, of the inundated country with lengthy swathes of
tiger-grass laid low by the turbid flood, of mounds of decaying trees
and canes, of the swollen river and the weeping sky, was enough to
engender the mukunguru! The well-used khambi, and the heaps of filth
surrounding it, were enough to create a cholera!
The Makata, a river whose breadth during the dry season is but forty
feet, in the Masika season assumes the breadth, depth, and force of an
important river. Should it happen to be an unusually rainy season, it
inundates the great plain which stretches on either side, and converts
it into a great lake. It is the main feeder of the Wami river, which
empties into the sea between the ports of Saadani and Whinde. About ten
miles north-east of the Makata crossing, the Great Makata, the Little
Makata, a nameless creek, and the Rudewa river unite; and the river thus
formed becomes known as the Wami. Throughout Usagara the Wami is known
as the Mukondokwa. Three of these streams take their rise from the
crescent-like Usagara range, which bounds the Makata plain south and
south-westerly; while the Rudewa rises in the northern horn of the same
range.
So swift was the flow of the Makata, and so much did its unsteady
bridge, half buried in the water, imperil the safety of the property,
that its transfer from bank to bank occupied fully five hours. No sooner
had we landed every article on the other side, undamaged by the water,
than the rain poured down in torrents that drenched them all, as if they
had been dragged through the river. To proceed through the swamp which
an hour's rain had formed was utterly out of the question. We were
accordingly compelled to camp in a place where every hour furnished its
quota of annoyance. One of the Wangwana soldiers engaged at Bagamoyo,
named Kingaru, improved an opportunity to desert with another Mgwana's
kit. My two detectives, Uledi (Grant's valet), and Sarmean, were
immediately despatched in pursuit, both being armed with American
breech-loaders. They went about their task with an adroitness and
celerity which augured well for their success. In an hour they returned
with the runaway, having found him hidden in the house of a Mseguhha
chief called Kigondo, who lived about a mile from the eastern bank of
the river, and who had accompanied Uledi and Sarmean to receive his
reward, and render an account of the incident.
Kigondo said, when he had been seated, "I saw this man carrying a
bundle, and running hard, by which I knew that he was deserting you. We
(my wife and 1) were sitting in our little watch-hut, watching our corn;
and, as the road runs close by, this man was obliged to come close to
us. We called to him when he was near, saying, 'Master, where are you
going so fast? Are you deserting the Musungu, for we know you belong to
him, since you bought from us yesterday two doti worth of meat?' 'Yes,'
said he, 'I am running away; I want to get to Simbamwenni. If you will
take me there, I will give you a doti.' We said to him then, 'Come into
our house, and we will talk it over quietly. When he was in our house
in an inner room, we locked him up, and went out again to the watch; but
leaving word with the women to look out for him. We knew that, if you
wanted him, you would send askari (soldiers) after him. We had but
lit our pipes when we saw two men armed with short guns, and having no
loads, coming along the road, looking now and then on the ground, as
if they were looking at footmarks. We knew them to be the men we were
expecting; so we hailed them, and said, 'Masters, what are ye looking
for?' \ They said, 'We are looking for a man who has deserted our
master. Here are his footsteps. If you have been long in your hut you
must have seen him, Can you tell us where he is?' We said, 'yes; he is
in our house. If you will come with us, we will give him up to you; but
your master must give us something for catching him.'"
As Kigondo had promised to deliver Kingaru up, there remained nothing
further to do for Uledi and Sarmean but to take charge of their
prisoner, and bring him and his captors to my camp on the western bank
of the Makata. Kingaru received two dozen lashes, and was chained; his
captor a doti, besides five khete of red coral beads for his wife.
That down-pour of rain which visited us the day we crossed the Makata
proved the last of the Masika season. As the first rainfall which we had
experienced occurred on the 23rd March, and the last on the 30th April,
its duration was thirty-nine days. The seers of Bagamoyo had delivered
their vaticinations concerning this same Masika with solemnity. "For
forty days," said they, "rain would fall incessantly;" whereas we had
but experienced eighteen days' rain. Nevertheless, we were glad that it
was over, for we were tired of stopping day after day to dry the bales
and grease the tools and ironware, and of seeing all things of cloth and
leather rot visibly before our eyes.
The 1st of May found us struggling through the mire and water of the
Makata with a caravan bodily sick, from the exertion and fatigue of
crossing so many rivers and wading through marshes. Shaw was still
suffering from his first mukunguru; Zaidi, a soldier, was critically
ill with the small-pox; the kichuma-chuma, "little irons," had hold
of Bombay across the chest, rendering him the most useless of the
unserviceables; Mabruk Saleem, a youth of lusty frame, following the
example of Bombay, laid himself down on the marshy ground, professing
his total inability to breast the Makata swamp; Abdul Kader, the Hindi
tailor and adventurer--the weakliest of mortal bodies--was ever ailing
for lack of "force," as he expressed it in French, i.e. "strength," ever
indisposed to work, shiftless, mock-sick, but ever hungry. "Oh! God,"
was the cry of my tired soul, "were all the men of my Expedition like
this man I should be compelled to return." Solomon was wise perhaps
from inspiration, perhaps from observation; I was becoming wise by
experience, and I was compelled to observe that when mud and wet sapped
the physical energy of the lazily-inclined, a dog-whip became their
backs, restoring them to a sound--some-times to an extravagant activity.
For thirty miles from our camp was the Makata plain an extensive swamp.
The water was on an average one foot in depth; in some places we plunged
into holes three, four, and even five feet deep. Plash, splash, plash,
splash, were the only sounds we heard from the commencement of the march
until we found the bomas occupying the only dry spots along the line of
march. This kind of work continued for two days, until we came in sight
of the Rudewa river, another powerful stream with banks brimful of
rushing rain-water. Crossing a branch of the Rudewa, and emerging from
the dank reedy grass crowding the western bank, the view consisted of
an immense sheet of water topped by clumps of grass tufts and foliage of
thinly scattered trees, bounded ten or twelve miles off by the eastern
front of the Usagara mountain range. The acme of discomfort and vexation
was realized on the five-mile march from the Rudewa branch. As myself
and the Wangwana appeared with the loaded donkeys, the pagazis were
observed huddled on a mound. When asked if the mound was the camp, they
replied "No." "Why, then, do you stop here?"--"Ugh! water plenty!!" One
drew a line across his loins to indicate the depth of water before us,
another drew a line across his chest, another across his throat another
held his hand over his head, by which he meant that we should have to
swim. Swim five miles through a reedy marsh! It was impossible; it was
also impossible that such varied accounts could all be correct. Without
hesitation, therefore, I ordered the Wangwana to proceed with the
animals. After three hours of splashing through four feet of water we
reached dry land, and had traversed the swamp of Makata. But not without
the swamp with its horrors having left a durable impression upon our
minds; no one was disposed to forget its fatigues, nor the nausea of
travel which it almost engendered. Subsequently, we had to remember its
passage still more vividly, and to regret that we had undertaken the
journey during the Masika season, when the animals died from this date
by twos and threes, almost every day, until but five sickly worn-out
beasts remained; when the Wangwana, soldiers, and pagazis sickened of
diseases innumerable; when I myself was finally compelled to lie a-bed
with an attack of acute dysentery which brought me to the verge of the
grave. I suffered more, perhaps, than I might have done had I taken the
proper medicine, but my over-confidence in that compound, called "Collis
Brown's Chlorodyne," delayed the cure which ultimately resulted from a
judicious use of Dover's powder. In no one single case of diarrhoea
or acute dysentery had this "Chlorodyne," about which so much has been
said, and written, any effect of lessening the attack whatever, though
I used three bottles. To the dysentery contracted during, the transit of
the Makata swamp, only two fell victims, and those were a pagazi and my
poor little dog "Omar," my companion from India.
The only tree of any prominence in the Makata valley was the Palmyra
palm (Borassus flabelliformis), and this grew in some places in numbers
sufficient to be called a grove; the fruit was not ripe while we passed,
otherwise we might have enjoyed it as a novelty. The other vegetation
consisted of the several species of thorn bush, and the graceful
parachute-topped and ever-green mimosa.
The 4th of May we were ascending a gentle slope towards the important
village of Rehenneko, the first village near to which we encamped in
Usagara. It lay at the foot of the mountain, and its plenitude and
mountain air promised us comfort and health. It was a square, compact
village, surrounded by a thick wall of mud, enclosing cone-topped huts,
roofed with bamboo and holcus-stalks; and contained a population of
about a thousand souls. It has several wealthy and populous neighbours,
whose inhabitants are independent enough in their manner, but not
unpleasantly so. The streams are of the purest water, fresh, and
pellucid as crystal, bubbling over round pebbles and clean gravel, with
a music delightful to hear to the traveller in search of such a sweetly
potable element.
The bamboo grows to serviceable size in the neighbourhood of Rehenneko,
strong enough for tent and banghy poles; and in numbers sufficient to
supply an army. The mountain slopes are densely wooded with trees that
might supply very good timber for building purposes.
We rested four days at this pleasant spot, to recruit ourselves, and to
allow the sick and feeble time to recover a little before testing their
ability in the ascent of the Usagara mountains.
The 8th of May saw us with our terribly jaded men and animals winding up
the steep slopes of the first line of hills; gaining the summit of which
we obtained a view remarkably grand, which exhibited as in a master
picture the broad valley of the Makata, with its swift streams like so
many cords of silver, as the sunshine played on the unshadowed reaches
of water, with its thousands of graceful palms adding not a little to
the charm of the scene, with the great wall of the Uruguru and
Uswapanga mountains dimly blue, but sublime in their loftiness and
immensity--forming a fit background to such an extensive, far-embracing
prospect.
Turning our faces west, we found ourselves in a mountain world, fold
rising above fold, peak behind peak, cone jostling cone; away to the
north, to the west, to the south, the mountain tops rolled like so many
vitrified waves; not one adust or arid spot was visible in all this
scene. The diorama had no sudden changes or striking contrasts, for a
universal forest of green trees clothed every peak, cone, and summit.
To the men this first day's march through the mountain region of Usagara
was an agreeable interlude after the successive journey over the flats
and heavy undulations of the maritime region, but to the loaded and
enfeebled animals it was most trying. We were minus two by the time
we had arrived at our camp, but seven miles from Rehenneko, our first
instalment of the debt we owed to Makata. Water, sweet and clear, was
abundant in the deep hollows of the mountains, flowing sometimes over
beds of solid granite, sometimes over a rich red sandstone, whose
soft substance was soon penetrated by the aqueous element, and whose
particles were swept away constantly to enrich the valley below; and in
other ravines it dashed, and roared, miniature thunder, as it leaped
over granite boulders and quartz rock.
The 9th of May, after another such an up-and-down course, ascending
hills and descending into the twilight depths of deepening valleys, we
came suddenly upon the Mukondokwa, and its narrow pent-up valley crowded
with rank reedy grass, cane, and thorny bushes; and rugged tamarisk
which grappled for existence with monster convolvuli, winding their
coils around their trunks with such tenacity and strength that the
tamarisk seemed grown but for their support.
The valley was barely a quarter of a mile broad in some places--at
others it widened to about a mile. The hills on either side shot up into
precipitous slopes, clothed with mimosa, acacia, and tamarisk,
enclosing a river and valley whose curves and folds were as various as a
serpent's.
Shortly after debouching into the Mukondokwa valley, we struck the
road traversed by Captains Buxton and Speke in 1857, between Mbumi and
Kadetamare (the latter place should be called Misonghi, Kadetamare
being but the name of a chief). After following the left bank of
the Mukondokwa, during which our route diverged to every point from
south-east to west, north and northeast, for about an hour, we came to
the ford. Beyond the ford, a short half-hour's march, we came to Kiora.
At this filthy village of Kiora, which was well-grounded with goat-dung,
and peopled with a wonderful number of children for a hamlet that did
not number twenty families, with a hot sun pouring on the limited open
space, with a fury that exceeded 128 degrees Fahrenheit; which swarmed
with flies and insects of known and unknown species; I found, as I had
been previously informed, the third caravan, which had started out of
Bagamoyo so well fitted and supplied. The leader, who was no other
than the white man Farquhar, was sick-a-bed with swollen legs (Bright's
disease), unable to move.
As he heard my voice, Farquhar staggered out of his tent, so changed
from my spruce mate who started from Bagamoyo, that I hardly knew him at
first. His legs were ponderous, elephantine, since his leg-illness was
of elephantiasis, or dropsy. His face was of a deathly pallor, for he
had not been out of his tent for two weeks.
A breezy hill, overlooking the village of Kiora, was chosen by me for
my camping-ground, and as soon as the tents were pitched, the animals
attended to, and a boma made of thorn bushes, Farquhar was carried up
by four men into my tent. Upon being questioned as to the cause of his
illness, he said he did not know what had caused it. He had no pain, he
thought, anywhere. I asked, "Do you not sometimes feel pain on the right
side?"--"Yes, I think I do; but I don't know."--"Nor over the left
nipple sometimes--a quick throbbing, with a shortness of
breath?"--"Yes, I think I have. I know I breathe quick sometimes." He
said his only trouble was in the legs, which were swollen to an immense
size. Though he had a sound appetite, he yet felt weak in the legs.
From the scant information of the disease and its peculiarities, as
given by Farquhar himself, I could only make out, by studying a little
medical book I had with me, that "a swelling of the legs, and sometimes
of the body, might result from either heart, liver, or kidney disease."
But I did not know to what to ascribe the disease, unless it was to
elephantiasis--a disease most common in Zanzibar; nor did I know how
to treat it in a man who, could not tell me whether he felt pain in his
head or in his back, in his feet or in his chest.
It was therefore fortunate for me that I overtook him at Kiora; though
he was about to prove a sore incumbrance to me, for he was not able to
walk, and the donkey-carriage, after the rough experience of the Makata
valley, was failing. I could not possibly leave him at Kiora, death
would soon overtake him there; but how long I could convey a man in
such a state, through a country devoid of carriage, was a question to be
resolved by circumstances.
On the 11th of May, the third and fifth caravans, now united, followed
up the right bank of the Mukondokwa, through fields of holcus, the great
Mukondokwa ranges rising in higher altitude as we proceeded west, and
enfolding us in the narrow river valley round about. We left Muniyi
Usagara on our right, and soon after found hill-spurs athwart our road,
which we were obliged to ascend and descend.
A march of eight miles from the ford of Misonghi brought us to another
ford of the Mukondokwa, where we bid a long adieu to Burton's road,
which led up to the Goma pass and up the steep slopes of Rubeho. Our
road left the right bank and followed the left over a country quite
the reverse of the Mukondokwa Valley, enclosed between mountain ranges.
Fertile soils and spontaneous vegetation, reeking with miasma and
overpowering from their odour, we had exchanged for a drouthy wilderness
of aloetic and cactaceous plants, where the kolquall and several thorn
bushes grew paramount.
Instead of the tree-clad heights, slopes and valleys, instead of
cultivated fields, we saw now the confines of uninhabited wilderness.
The hill-tops were bared of their bosky crowns, and revealed their rocky
natures bleached white by rain and sun. Nguru Peak, the loftiest of the
Usagara cones, stood right shoulderwards of us as we ascended the long
slope of dun-grey soil which rose beyond the brown Mukondokwa on the
left.
At the distance of two miles from the last ford, we found a neat khambi,
situated close to the river, where it first broke into a furious rapid.
The next morning the caravan was preparing for the march, when I was
informed that the "Bana Mdogo"--little master--Shaw, had not yet arrived
with the cart, and the men in charge of it. Late the previous night I
had despatched one donkey for Shaw, who had said he was too ill to walk,
and another for the load that was on the cart; and had retired satisfied
that they would soon arrive. My conclusion, when I learned in the
morning that the people had not yet come in, was that Shaw was not aware
that for five days we should have to march through a wilderness totally
uninhabited. I therefore despatched Chowpereh, a Mgwana soldier, with
the following note to him:--"You will, upon receipt of this order pitch
the cart into the nearest ravine, gully, or river, as well as all the
extra pack saddles; and come at once, for God's sake, for we must not
starve here!"
One, two, three, and four hours were passed by me in the utmost
impatience, waiting, but in vain, for Shaw. Having a long march before
us, I could wait no longer, but went to meet his party myself. About a
quarter of mile from the ford I met the van of the laggards--stout
burly Chowpereh--and, O cartmakers, listen! he carried the cart on his
head--wheels, shafts, body, axle, and all complete; he having found that
carrying it was much easier than drawing it. The sight was such a damper
to my regard for it as an experiment, that the cart was wheeled into the
depths of the tall reeds, and there left. The central figure was Shaw
himself, riding at a gait which seemed to leave it doubtful on my mind
whether he or his animal felt most sleepy. Upon expostulating with him
for keeping the caravan so long waiting when there was a march on hand,
in a most peculiar voice--which he always assumed when disposed to be
ugly-tempered--he said he had done the best he could; but as I had
seen the solemn pace at which he rode, I felt dubious about his best
endeavours; and of course there was a little scene, but the young
European mtongi of an East African expedition must needs sup with the
fellows he has chosen.
We arrived at Madete at 4 P.M., minus two donkeys, which had stretched
their weary limbs in death. We had crossed the Mukondokwa about 3 P.M.,
and after taking its bearings and course, I made sure that its rise took
place near a group of mountains about forty miles north by west of Nguru
Peak. Our road led W.N.W., and at this place finally diverged from the
river.
On the 14th, after a march of seven miles over hills whose sandstone
and granite formation cropped visibly here and there above the surface,
whose stony and dry aspect seemed reflected in every bush and plant, and
having gained an altitude of about eight hundred feet above the flow
of the Mukondokwa, we sighted the Lake of Ugombo--a grey sheet of water
lying directly at the foot of the hill, from whose summit we gazed at
the scene. The view was neither beautiful nor pretty, but what I should
call refreshing; it afforded a pleasant relief to the eyes fatigued
from dwelling on the bleak country around. Besides, the immediate
neighbourhood of the lake was too tame to call forth any enthusiasm;
there were no grandly swelling mountains, no smiling landscapes--nothing
but a dun-brown peak, about one thousand feet high above the surface of
the lake at its western extremity, from which the lake derived its name,
Ugombo; nothing but a low dun-brown irregular range, running parallel
with its northern shore at the distance of a mile; nothing but a low
plain stretching from its western shore far away towards the Mpwapwa
Mountains and Marenga Mkali, then apparent to us from our coign of
vantage, from which extensive scene of dun-brownness we were glad to
rest our eyes on the quiet grey water beneath.
Descending from the summit of the range, which bounded the lake east for
about four hundred feet, we travelled along the northern shore. The time
occupied in the journey from the eastern to the western extremity was
exactly one hour and thirty minutes.
As this side represents its greatest length I conclude that the lake is
three miles long by two miles greatest breadth. The immediate shores of
the lake on all sides, for at least fifty feet from the water's edge,
is one impassable morass nourishing rank reeds and rushes, where the
hippopotamus' ponderous form has crushed into watery trails the soft
composition of the morass as he passes from the lake on his nocturnal
excursions; the lesser animals; such as the "mbogo" (buffalo), the
"punda-terra" (zebra); the "twiga" (giraffe), the boar, the kudu, the
hyrax or coney and the antelope; come here also to quench their thirst
by night. The surface of the lake swarms with an astonishing variety of
water-fowl; such as black swan, duck, ibis sacra cranes, pelicans; and
soaring above on the look-out for their prey are fish-eagles and
hawks, while the neighbourhood is resonant with the loud chirps of the
guinea-fowls calling for their young, with the harsh cry of the toucan,
the cooing of the pigeon, and the "to-whit, to-whoo" of the owl. From
the long grass in its vicinity also issue the grating and loud cry of
the florican, woodcock, and grouse.
Being obliged to halt here two days, owing to the desertion of the Hindi
cooper Jako with one of my best carbines, I improved the opportunity
of exploring the northern and southern shores of the lake. At the rocky
foot of a low, humpy hill on the northern side, about fifteen feet
above the present surface of the water I detected in most distinct and
definite lines the agency of waves. From its base could be traced clear
to the edge of the dank morass tiny lines of comminuted shell as plainly
marked as the small particles which lie in rows on a beech after a
receding tide. There is no doubt that the wave-marks on the sandstone
might have been traced much higher by one skilled in geology; it was
only its elementary character that was visible to me. Nor do I entertain
the least doubt, after a two days' exploration of the neighbourhood,
especially of the low plain at the western end, that this Lake of Ugombo
is but the tail of what was once a large body of water equal in extent
to the Tanganika; and, after ascending half way up Ugombo Peak, this
opinion was confirmed when I saw the long-depressed line of plain at
its base stretching towards the Mpwapwa Mountains thirty miles off, and
thence round to Marenga Mkali, and covering all that extensive surface
of forty miles in breadth, and an unknown length. A depth of twelve feet
more, I thought, as I gazed upon it, would give the lake a length
of thirty miles, and a breadth of ten. A depth of thirty feet would
increase its length over a hundred miles, and give it a breadth of
fifty, for such was the level nature of the plain that stretched west
of Ugombo, and north of Marenga Mkali. Besides the water of the lake
partook slightly of the bitter nature of the Matamombo creek, distant
fifteen miles, and in a still lesser degree of that of Marenga Mkali,
forty miles off.
Towards the end of the first day of our halt the Hindi cooper Jako
arrived in camp, alleging as an excuse, that feeling fatigued he had
fallen asleep in some bushes a few feet from the roadside. Having been
the cause of our detention in the hungry wilderness of Ugombo, I was
not in a frame of mind to forgive him; so, to prevent any future truant
tricks on his part, I was under the necessity of including him with the
chained gangs of runaways.
Two more of our donkeys died, and to prevent any of the valuable
baggage being left behind, I was obliged to send Farquhar off on my own
riding-ass to the village of Mpwapwa, thirty miles off, under charge of
Mabruki Burton.
To save the Expedition from ruin, I was reluctantly compelled to come to
the conclusion that it were better for me, for him, and concerned, that
he be left with some kind chief of a village, with a six months'
supply of cloth and beads, until he got well, than that he make his own
recovery impossible.
The 16th of May saw us journeying over the plain which lies between
Ugombo and Mpwapwa, skirting close, at intervals, a low range of
trap-rock, out of which had become displaced by some violent agency
several immense boulders. On its slopes grew the kolquall to a size
which I had not seen in Abyssinia. In the plain grew baobab, and immense
tamarind, and a variety of thorn.
Within five hours from Ugombo the mountain range deflected towards the
north-east, while we continued on a north-westerly course, heading for
the lofty mountain-line of the Mpwapwa. To our left towered to the blue
clouds the gigantic Rubeho. The adoption of this new road to Unyanyembe
by which we were travelling was now explained--we were enabled to
avoid the passes and stiff steeps of Rubeho, and had nothing worse to
encounter than a broad smooth plain, which sloped gently to Ugogo.
After a march of fifteen miles we camped at a dry mtoni, called
Matamombo, celebrated for its pools of bitter water of the colour
of ochre. Monkeys and rhinoceroses, besides kudus, steinboks, and
antelopes, were numerous in the vicinity. At this camp my little dog
"Omar" died of inflammation of the bowels, almost on the threshold of
the country--Ugogo--where his faithful watchfulness would have been
invaluable to me.
The next day's march was also fifteen miles in length, through one
interminable jungle of thorn-bushes. Within two miles of the camp, the
road led up a small river bed, broad as an avenue, clear to the khambi
of Mpwapwa; which was situated close to a number of streams of the
purest water.
The following morning found us much fatigued after the long marches
from Ugombo, and generally disposed to take advantage of the precious
luxuries Mpwapwa offered to caravans fresh from the fly-plagued lands
of the Waseguhha and Wadoe. Sheikh Thani--clever but innocently-speaking
old Arab--was encamped under the grateful umbrage of a huge Mtamba
sycamore, and had been regaling himself with fresh milk, luscious
mutton, and rich bullock humps, ever since his arrival here, two days
before; and, as he informed me, it did not suit his views to quit such
a happy abundance so soon for the saline nitrous water of Marenga Mkali,
with its several terekezas, and manifold disagreeables. "No!" said he to
me, emphatically, "better stop here two or three days, give your tired
animals some rest; collect all the pagazis you can, fill your inside
with fresh milk, sweet potatoes, beef, mutton, ghee, honey, beans,
matama, maweri, and nuts;--then, Inshallah! we shall go together through
Ugogo without stopping anywhere." As the advice tallied accurately with
my own desired and keen appetite for the good things he named, he had
not long to wait for my assent to his counsel. "Ugogo," continued he,
"is rich with milk and honey--rich in flour, beans and almost every
eatable thing; and, Inshallah! before another week is gone we shall be
in Ugogo!"
I had heard from passing caravans so many extremely favourable reports
respecting Ugogo and its productions that it appeared to me a very Land
of Promise, and I was most anxious to refresh my jaded stomach with some
of the precious esculents raised in Ugogo; but when I heard that Mpwapwa
also furnished some of those delicate eatables, and good things, most of
the morning hours were spent in inducing the slow-witted people to part
with them; and when, finally, eggs, milk, honey, mutton, ghee, ground
matama and beans had been collected in sufficient quantities to produce
a respectable meal, my keenest attention and best culinary talents were
occupied for a couple of hours in converting this crude supply into
a breakfast which could be accepted by and befit a stomach at once
fastidious and famished, such as mine was. The subsequent healthy
digestion of it proved my endeavours to have been eminently successful.
At the termination of this eventful day, the following remark was jotted
down in my diary: "Thank God! After fifty-seven days of living
upon matama porridge and tough goat, I have enjoyed with unctuous
satisfaction a real breakfast and dinner."
It was in one of the many small villages which are situated upon the
slopes of the Mpwapwa that a refuge and a home for Farquhar was found
until he should be enabled by restored health to start to join us at
Unyanyembe.
Food was plentiful and of sufficient variety to suit the most
fastidious--cheap also, much cheaper than we had experienced for many
a day. Leucole, the chief of the village, with whom arrangements for
Farquhar's protection and comfort were made, was a little old man of
mild eye and very pleasing face, and on being informed that it was
intended to leave the Musungu entirely under his charge, suggested that
some man should be left to wait on him, and interpret his wishes to his
people.
As Jako was the only one who could speak English, except Bombay and
Selim, Jako was appointed, and the chief Leucole was satisfied. Six
months' provisions of white beads, Merikani and Kaniki cloth, together
with two doti of handsome cloth to serve as a present to Leucole after
his recovery, were taken to Farquhar by Bombay, together with a Starr's
carbine, 300 rounds of cartridge, a set of cooking pots, and 3 lbs. of
tea.
Abdullah bin Nasib, who was found encamped here with five hundred
pagazis, and a train of Arab and Wasawahili satellites, who revolved
around his importance, treated me in somewhat the same manner that Hamed
bin Sulayman treated Speke at Kasenge. Followed by his satellites, he
came (a tall nervous-looking man, of fifty or thereabouts) to see me in
my camp, and asked me if I wished to purchase donkeys. As all my animals
were either sick or moribund, I replied very readily in the affirmative,
upon which he graciously said he would sell me as many as I wanted, and
for payment I could give him a draft on Zanzibar. I thought him a very
considerate and kind person, fully justifying the encomiums lavished
on him in Burton's 'Lake Regions of Central Africa,' and accordingly I
treated him with the consideration due to so great and good a man. The
morrow came, and with it went Abdullah bin Nasib, or "Kisesa," as he is
called by the Wanyamwezi, with all his pagazis, his train of followers,
and each and every one of his donkeys, towards Bagamoyo, without so much
as giving a "Kwaheri," or good-bye.
At this place there are generally to be found from ten to thirty pagazis
awaiting up-caravans. I was fortunate enough to secure twelve good
people, who, upon my arrival at Unyanyembe, without an exception,
voluntarily engaged themselves as carriers to Ujiji. With the formidable
marches of Marenga Mkali in front, I felt thankful for this happy
windfall, which resolved the difficulties I had been anticipating; for
I had but ten donkeys left, and four of these were so enfeebled that
they were worthless as baggage animals.
Mpwapwa--so called by the Arabs, who have managed to corrupt almost
every native word--is called "Mbambwa" by the Wasagara. It is a mountain
range rising over 6,000 feet above the sea, bounding on the north the
extensive plain which commences at Ugombo lake, and on the east that
part of the plain which is called Marenga Mkali, which stretches away
beyond the borders of Uhumba. Opposite Mpwapwa, at the distance of
thirty miles or so, rises the Anak peak of Rubeho, with several other
ambitious and tall brethren cresting long lines of rectilinear scarps,
which ascend from the plain of Ugombo and Marenga Mkali as regularly as
if they had been chiselled out by the hands of generations of masons and
stonecutters.
Upon looking at Mpwapwa's greenly-tinted slopes, dark with many
a densely-foliaged tree; its many rills flowing sweet and clear,
nourishing besides thick patches of gum and thorn bush, giant sycamore
and parachute-topped mimosa, and permitting my imagination to picture
sweet views behind the tall cones above, I was tempted to brave the
fatigue of an ascent to the summit. Nor was my love for the picturesque
disappointed. One sweep of the eyes embraced hundreds of square miles
of plain and mountain, from Ugombo Peak away to distant Ugogo, and
from Rubeho and Ugogo to the dim and purple pasture lands of the wild,
untamable Wahumba. The plain of Ugombo and its neighbour of Marenga
Mkali, apparently level as a sea, was dotted here and there with
"hillocks dropt in Nature's careless haste," which appeared like islands
amid the dun and green expanse. Where the jungle was dense the colour
was green, alternating with dark brown; where the plain appeared denuded
of bush and brake it had a whity-brown appearance, on which the passing
clouds now and again cast their deep shadows. Altogether this side
of the picture was not inviting; it exhibited too plainly the true
wilderness in its sternest aspect; but perhaps the knowledge that in the
bosom of the vast plain before me there was not one drop of water but
was bitter as nitre, and undrinkable as urine, prejudiced me against
it, The hunter might consider it a paradise, for in its depths were
all kinds of game to attract his keenest instincts; but to the mere
traveller it had a stern outlook. Nearer, however, to the base of the
Mpwapwa the aspect of the plain altered. At first the jungle thinned,
openings in the wood appeared, then wide and naked clearings, then
extensive fields of the hardy holcus, Indian corn, and maweri or bajri,
with here and there a square tembe or village. Still nearer ran thin
lines of fresh young grass, great trees surrounded a patch of alluvial
meadow. A broad river-bed, containing several rivulets of water, ran
through the thirsty fields, conveying the vivifying element which in
this part of Usagara was so scarce and precious. Down to the river-bed
sloped the Mpwapwa, roughened in some places by great boulders of
basalt, or by rock masses, which had parted from a precipitous scarp,
where clung the kolquall with a sure hold, drawing nourishment where
every other green thing failed; clad in others by the hardy mimosa,
which rose like a sloping bank of green verdure almost to the summit.
And, happy sight to me so long a stranger to it, there were hundreds of
cattle grazing, imparting a pleasing animation to the solitude of the
deep folds of the mountain range.
But the fairest view was obtained by looking northward towards the dense
group of mountains which buttressed the front range, facing towards
Rubeho. It was the home of the winds, which starting here and sweeping
down the precipitous slopes and solitary peaks on the western side,
and gathering strength as they rushed through the prairie-like Marenga
Mkali, howled through Ugogo and Unyamwezi with the force of a storm,
It was also the home of the dews, where sprang the clear springs which
cheered by their music the bosky dells below, and enriched the populous
district of Mpwapwa. One felt better, stronger, on this breezy height,
drinking in the pure air and feasting the eyes on such a varied
landscape as it presented, on spreading plateaus green as lawns, on
smooth rounded tops, on mountain vales containing recesses which
might charm a hermit's soul, on deep and awful ravines where reigned
a twilight gloom, on fractured and riven precipices, on huge
fantastically-worn boulders which overtopped them, on picturesque tracts
which embraced all that was wild, and all that was poetical in Nature.
Mpwapwa, though the traveller from the coast will feel grateful for the
milk it furnished after being so long deprived of it, will be kept in
mind as a most remarkable place for earwigs. In my tent they might
be counted by thousands; in my slung cot they were by hundreds; on my
clothes they were by fifties; on my neck and head they were by scores.
The several plagues of locusts, fleas, and lice sink into utter
insignificance compared with this fearful one of earwigs. It is true
they did not bite, and they did not irritate the cuticle, but what their
presence and numbers suggested was something so horrible that it drove
one nearly insane to think of it. Who will come to East Africa without
reading the experiences of Burton and Speke? Who is he that having read
them will not remember with horror the dreadful account given by Speke
of his encounters with these pests? My intense nervous watchfulness
alone, I believe, saved me from a like calamity.
Second to the earwigs in importance and in numbers were the white
ants, whose powers of destructiveness were simply awful. Mats, cloth,
portmanteaus, clothes, in short, every article I possessed, seemed on
the verge of destruction, and, as I witnessed their voracity, I felt
anxious lest my tent should be devoured while I slept. This was the
first khambi since leaving the coast where their presence became a
matter of anxiety; at all other camping places hitherto the red and
black ants had usurped our attention, but at Mpwapwa the red species
were not seen, while the black were also very scarce.
After a three days' halt at Mpwapwa I decided of a march to Marenga
Mkali, which should be uninterrupted until we reached Mvumi in Ugogo,
where I should be inducted into the art of paying tribute to the Wagogo
chiefs. The first march to Kisokweh was purposely made short, being
barely four miles, in order to enable Sheikh Thani, Sheikh Hamed, and
five or six Wasawahili caravans to come up with me at Chunyo on the
confines of Marenga Mkali.