It never occurred to the Arab magnates that I had cause of complaint
against them, or that I had a right to feel aggrieved at their conduct,
for the base desertion of an ally, who had, as a duty to friendship,
taken up arms for their sake. Their "salaams" the next morning after the
retreat, were given as if nothing had transpired to mar the good feeling
that had existed between us.
They were hardly seated, however, before I began to inform them that as
the war was only between them and Mirambo, and that as I was afraid, if
they were accustomed to run away after every little check, that the war
might last a much longer time than I could afford to lose; and that
as they had deserted their wounded on the field, and left their sick
friends to take care of themselves, they must not consider me in the
light of an ally any more. "I am satisfied," said I, "having seen your
mode of fighting, that the war will not be ended in so short a time as
you think it will. It took you five years, I hear, to conquer and kill
Manwa Sera, you will certainly not conquer Mirambo in less than a year.*
I am a white man, accustomed to wars after a different style, I know
something about fighting, but I never saw people run away from an
encampment like ours at Zimbizo for such slight cause as you had. By
running away, you have invited Mirambo to follow you to Unyanyembe; you
may be sure he will come." __________________ * The same war is still
raging, April, 1874. __________________
The Arabs protested one after another that they had not intended to
have left me, but the Wanyamwezi of Mkasiwa had shouted out that the
"Musungu" was gone, and the cry had caused a panic among their people,
which it was impossible to allay.
Later that day the Arabs continued their retreat to Tabora; which
is twenty-two miles distant from Mfuto. I determined to proceed more
leisurely, and on the second day after the flight from Zimbizo, the
Expedition, with all the stores and baggage, marched back to Masangi,
and on the third day to Kwihara.
The following extracts from my Diary will serve to show better than
anything else, my feelings and thoughts about this time, after our
disgraceful retreat:
Kwihara. Friday, 11th August, 1871.--Arrived to-day from Zimbili,
village of Bomboma's. I am quite disappointed and almost disheartened.
But I have one consolation, I have done my duty by the Arabs, a duty I
thought I owed to the kindness they received me with, now, however, the
duty is discharged, and I am free to pursue my own course. I feel
happy, for some reasons, that the duty has been paid at such a slight
sacrifice. Of course if I had lost my life in this enterprise, I should
have been justly punished. But apart from my duty to the consideration
with which the Arabs had received me, was the necessity of trying every
method of reaching Livingstone. This road which the war with Mirambo has
closed, is only a month's march from this place, and, if the road could
be opened with my aid, sooner than without it, why should I refuse my
aid? The attempt has been made for the second time to Ujiji--both have
failed. I am going to try another route; to attempt to go by the north
would be folly. Mirambo's mother and people, and the Wasui, are between
me and Ujiji, without including the Watuta, who are his allies, and
robbers. The southern route seems to be the most practicable one.
Very few people know anything of the country south; those whom I have
questioned concerning it speak of "want of water" and robber Wazavira,
as serious obstacles; they also say that the settlements are few and far
between.
But before I can venture to try this new route, I have to employ a new
set of men, as those whom I took to Mfuto consider their engagements at
an end, and the fact of five of their number being killed rather damps
their ardor for travelling. It is useless to hope that Wanyamwezi can
be engaged, because it is against their custom to go with caravans, as
carriers, during war time. My position is most serious. I have a good
excuse for returning to the coast, but my conscience will not permit me
to do so, after so much money has been expended, and so much confidence
has been placed in me. In fact, I feel I must die sooner than return.
Saturday, August 12th.--My men, as I supposed they would, have gone;
they said that I engaged them to go, to Ujiji by Mirambo's road. I have
only thirteen left.
With this small body of men, whither can I go? I have over one hundred
loads in the storeroom. Livingstone's caravan is also here; his goods
consist of seventeen bales of cloth, twelve boxes, and six bags of
beads. His men are luxuriating upon the best the country affords.
If Livingstone is at Ujiji, he is now locked up with small means of
escape. I may consider myself also locked up at Unyamyembe, and I
suppose cannot go to Ujiji until this war with Mirambo is settled.
Livingstone cannot get his goods, for they are here with mine. He cannot
return to Zanzibar, and the road to the Nile is blocked up. He might,
if he has men and stores, possibly reach Baker by travelling northwards,
through Urundi, thence through Ruanda, Karagwah, Uganda, Unyoro, and
Ubari to Gondokoro. Pagazis he cannot obtain, for the sources whence a
supply might be obtained are closed. It is an erroneous supposition to
think that Livingstone, any more than any other energetic man of his
calibre, can travel through Africa without some sort of an escort, and a
durable supply of marketable cloth and beads.
I was told to-day by a man that when Livingstone was coming from Nyassa
Lake towards the Tanganika (the very time that people thought him
murdered) he was met by Sayd bin Omar's caravan, which was bound for
Ulamba. He was travelling with Mohammed bin Gharib. This Arab, who was
coming from Urunga, met Livingstone at Chi-cumbi's, or Kwa-chi-kumbi's,
country, and travelled with him afterwards, I hear, to Manyuema or
Manyema. Manyuema is forty marches from the north of Nyassa. Livingstone
was walking; he was dressed in American sheeting. He had lost all his
cloth in Lake Liemba while crossing it in a boat. He had three canoes
with him; in one he put his cloth, another he loaded with his boxes and
some of his men, into the third he went himself with two servants and
two fishermen. The boat with his cloth was upset. On leaving Nyassa,
Livingstone went to Ubisa, thence to Uemba, thence to Urungu.
Livingstone wore a cap. He had a breech-loading double-barreled rifle
with him, which fired fulminating balls. He was also armed with two
revolvers. The Wahiyow with Livingstone told this man that their master
had many men with him at first, but that several had deserted him.
August 13th.--A caravan came in to-day from the seacoast. They reported
that William L. Farquhar, whom I left sick at Mpwapwa, Usagara, and
his cook, were dead. Farquhar, I was told, died a few days after I had
entered Ugogo, his cook died a few weeks later. My first impulse was for
revenge. I believed that Leukole had played me false, and had poisoned
him, or that he had been murdered in some other manner; but a personal
interview with the Msawahili who brought the news informing me that
Farquhar had succumbed to his dreadful illness has done away with that
suspicion. So far as I could understand him, Farquhar had in the morning
declared himself well enough to proceed, but in attempting to rise, had
fallen backward and died. I was also told that the Wasagara, possessing
some superstitious notions respecting the dead, had ordered Jako to
take the body out for burial, that Jako, not being able to carry it,
had dragged the body to the jungle, and there left it naked without the
slightest covering of earth, or anything else.
"There is one of us gone, Shaw, my boy! Who will be the next?" I
remarked that night to my companion.
August 14th.--Wrote some letters to Zanzibar. Shaw was taken very ill
last night.
August 19th. Saturday.--My soldiers are employed stringing beads.
Shaw is still a-bed. We hear that Mirambo is coming to Unyanyembe.
A detachment of Arabs and their slaves have started this morning to
possess themselves of the powder left there by the redoubtable Sheikh
Sayd bin Salim, the commander-in-chief of the Arab settlements.
August 21st. Monday.--Shaw still sick. One hundred fundo of beads have
been strung. The Arabs are preparing for another sally against Mirambo.
The advance of Mirambo upon Unyanyembe was denied by Sayd bin Salim,
this morning.
August 22nd.--We were stringing beads this morning, when, about 10 A.M.,
we heard a continued firing from the direction of Tabora. Rushing out
from our work to the front door facing Tabora, we heard considerable
volleying, and scattered firing, plainly; and ascending to the top of my
tembe, I saw with my glasses the smoke of the guns. Some of my men
who were sent on to ascertain the cause came running back with the
information that Mirambo had attacked Tabora with over two thousand men,
and that a force of over one thousand Watuta, who had allied themselves
with him for the sake of plunder, had come suddenly upon Tabora,
attacking from opposite directions.
Later in the day, or about noon, watching the low saddle over which we
could see Tabora, we saw it crowded with fugitives from that settlement,
who were rushing to our settlement at Kwihara for protection. From these
people we heard the sad information that the noble Khamis bin Abdullah,
his little protege, Khamis, Mohammed bin Abdullah, Ibrahim bin Rashid,
and Sayf, the son of Ali, the son of Sheikh, the son of Nasib, had been
slain.
When I inquired into the details of the attack, and the manner of the
death of these Arabs, I was told that after the first firing which
warned the inhabitants of Tabora that the enemy was upon them, Khamis
bin Abdullah and some of the principal Arabs who happened to be with
him had ascended to the roof of his tembe, and with his spyglass he had
looked towards the direction of the firing. To his great astonishment he
saw the plain around Tabora filled with approaching savages, and about
two miles off, near Kazima, a tent pitched, which he knew to belong to
Mirambo, from its having been presented to that chief by the Arabs of
Tabora when they were on good terms with him.
Khamis bin Abdullah descended to his house saying, "Let us go to meet
him. Arm yourselves, my friends, and come with me." His friends advised
him strongly sat to go out of his tembe; for so long as each Arab kept
to his tembe they were more than a match for the Ruga Ruga and the
Watuta together. But Khamis broke out impatiently with, "Would you
advise us to stop in our tembes, for fear of this Mshensi (pagan)? Who
goes with me?" His little protege, Khamis, son of a dead friend, asked
to be allowed to be his gun-bearer. Mohammed bin Abdulluh, Ibrahim bin
Rashid, and Sayf, the son of Ali, young Arabs of good families, who were
proud to live with the noble Khamis, also offered to go with him. After
hastily arming eighty of his slaves, contrary to the advice of his
prudent friends, he sallied out, and was soon face to face with his
cunning and determined enemy Mirambo. This chief, upon seeing the Arabs
advance towards him, gave orders to retreat slowly. Khamis, deceived by
this, rushed on with his friends after them. Suddenly Mirambo ordered
his men to advance upon them in a body, and at the sight of the
precipitate rush upon their party, Khamis's slaves incontinently took to
their heels, never even deigning to cast a glance behind them, leaving
their master to the fate which was now overtaking him. The savages
surrounded the five Arabs, and though several of them fell before the
Arabs' fire, continued to shoot at the little party, until Khamis bin
Abdullah received a bullet in the leg, which brought him to his knees,
and, for the first time, to the knowledge that his slaves had deserted
him. Though wounded, the brave man continued shooting, but he soon
afterwards received a bullet through the heart. Little Khamis, upon
seeing his adopted father's fall, exclaimed: "My father Khamis is dead,
I will die with him," and continued fighting until he received, shortly
after, his death wound. In a few minutes there was not one Arab left
alive.
Late at night some more particulars arrived of this tragic scene. I was
told by people who saw the bodies, that the body of Khamis bin Abdullah,
who was a fine noble, brave, portly man, was found with the skin of his
forehead, the beard and skin of the lower part of his face, the fore
part of the nose, the fat over the stomach and abdomen, and, lastly, a
bit from each heel, cut off, by the savage allies of Mirambo. And in
the same condition were found the bodies of his adopted son and fallen
friends. The flesh and skin thus taken from the bodies was taken, of
course, by the waganga or medicine men, to make what they deem to be
the most powerful potion of all to enable men to be strong against their
enemies. This potion is mixed up with their ugali and rice, and is taken
in this manner with the most perfect confidence in its efficacy, as
an invulnerable protection against bullets and missiles of all
descriptions.
It was a most sorry scene to witness from our excited settlement at
Kwihara, almost the whole of Tabora in flames, and to see the hundreds
of people crowding into Kwihara.
Perceiving that my people were willing to stand by me, I made
preparations for defence by boring loopholes for muskets into the
stout clay walls of my tembe. They were made so quickly, and seemed so
admirably adapted for the efficient defence of the tembe, that my men
got quite brave, and Wangwana refugees with guns in their hands, driven
out of Tabora, asked to be admitted into our tembe to assist in its
defence. Livingstone's men were also collected, and invited to help
defend their master's goods against Mirambo's supposed attack. By night
I had one hundred and fifty armed men in my courtyard, stationed at
every possible point where an attack might be expected. To-morrow
Mirambo has threatened that he will come to Kwihara. I hope he will
come, and if he comes within range of an American rifle, I shall see
what virtue lies in American lead.
August 23rd.--We have passed a very anxious day in the valley of
Kwihara. Our eyes were constantly directed towards unfortunate Tabora.
It has been said that three tembes only have stood the brunt of the
attack. Abid bin Suliman's house has been destroyed, and over two
hundred tusks of ivory that belonged to him have become the property of
the African Bonaparte. My tembe is in as efficient a state of defence as
its style and means of defence will allow. Rifle-pits surround the house
outside, and all native huts that obstructed the view have been torn
down, and all trees and shrubs which might serve as a shelter for any
one of the enemy have been cut. Provisions and water enough for six days
have been brought. I have ammunition enough to last two weeks. The walls
are three feet thick, and there are apartments within apartments, so
that a desperate body of men could fight until the last room had been
taken.
The Arabs, my neighbours, endeavour to seem brave, but it is evident
they are about despairing; I have heard it rumoured that the Arabs of
Kwihara, if Tabora is taken, will start en masse for the coast, and give
the country up to Mirambo. If such are their intentions, and they are
really carried into effect, I shall be in a pretty mess. However, if
they do leave me, Mirambo will not reap any benefit from my stores,
nor from Livingstone's either, for I shall burn the whole house, and
everything in it.
August 24th.--The American flag is still waving above my house, and the
Arabs are still in Unyanyembe.
About 10 A.M., a messenger came from Tabora, asking us if we were not
going to assist them against Mirambo. I felt very much like going out to
help them; but after debating long upon the pros and cons of it,--asking
myself, Was it prudent? Ought I to go? What will become of the people
if I were killed? Will they not desert me again? What was the fate of
Khamis bin Abdullah?--I sent word that I would not go; that they ought
to feel perfectly at home in their tembes against such a force as
Mirambo had, that I should be glad if they could induce him to come to
Kwihara, in which case I would try and pick him off.
They say that Mirambo, and his principal officer, carry umbrellas over
their heads, that he himself has long hair like a Mnyamwezi pagazi, and
a beard. If he comes, all the men carrying umbrellas will have bullets
rained on them in the hope that one lucky bullet may hit him. According
to popular ideas, I should make a silver bullet, but I have no silver
with me. I might make a gold one.
About, noon I went over to see Sheikh bin Nasib, leaving about 100 men
inside the house to guard it while I was absent. This old fellow is
quite a philosopher in his way. I should call him a professor of minor
philosophy. He is generally so sententious--fond of aphorisms, and a
very deliberate character. I was astonished to find him so despairing.
His aphorisms have deserted him, his philosophy has not been able to
stand against disaster. He listened to me, more like a moribund, than
one possessing all the means of defence and offence.
I loaded his two-pounder with ball, and grape, and small slugs of iron,
and advised him not to fire it until Mirambo's people were at his gates.
About 4 p.m. I heard that Mirambo had deported himself to Kazima, a
place north-west of Tabora a couple of miles.
August 26th.--The Arabs sallied out this morning to attack Kazima, but
refrained, because Mirambo asked for a day's grace, to eat the beef he
had stolen from them. He has asked them impudently to come to-morrow
morning, at which time he says he will give them plenty of fighting.
Kwihara is once more restored to a peaceful aspect, and fugitives no
longer throng its narrow limits in fear and despair.
August 27th.--Mirambo retreated during the night; and when the Arabs
went in force to attack his village of Kazima, they found it vacant.
The Arabs hold councils of war now-a-days--battle meetings, of which
they seem to be very fond, but extremely slow to act upon. They were
about to make friends with the northern Watuta, but Mirambo was ahead of
them. They had talked of invading Mirambo's territory the second time,
but Mirambo invaded Unyanyembe with fire and sword, bringing death to
many a household, and he has slain the noblest of them all.
The Arabs spend their hours in talking and arguing, while the Ujiji
and Karagwah roads are more firmly closed than ever. Indeed many of
the influential Arabs are talking of returning to Zanzibar; saying,
"Unyanyembe is ruined."
Meanwhile, with poor success, however, perceiving the impossibility of
procuring Wanyamwezi pagazis, I am hiring the Wangwana renegades living
in Unyanyembe to proceed with me to Ujiji, at treble prices. Each man is
offered 30 doti, ordinary hire of a carrier being only from 5 to 10 doti
to Ujiji. I want fifty men. I intend to leave about sixty or seventy
loads here under charge of a guard. I shall leave all personal baggage
behind, except one small portmanteau.
August 28th.--No news to-day of Mirambo. Shaw is getting strong again.
Sheikh bin Nasib called on me to-day, but, except on minor philosophy,
he had nothing to say.
I have determined, after a study of the country, to lead a flying
caravan to Ujiji, by a southern road through northern Ukonongo
and Ukawendi. Sheikh bin Nasib has been informed to-night of this
determination.
August 29th.--Shaw got up to-day for a little work. Alas! all my
fine-spun plans of proceeding by boat over the Victoria N'Yanza, thence
down the Nile, have been totally demolished, I fear, through this war
with Mirambo--this black Bonaparte. Two months have been wasted here
already. The Arabs take such a long time to come to a conclusion. Advice
is plentiful, and words are as numerous as the blades of grass in our
valley; all that is wanting indecision. The Arabs' hope and stay is
dead--Khamis bin Abdullah is no more. Where are the other warriors
of whom the Wangwana and Wanyamwezi bards sing? Where is mighty
Kisesa--great Abdullah bin Nasib? Where is Sayd, the son of Majid?
Kisesa is in Zanzibar, and Sayd, the son of Majid, is in Ujiji, as yet
ignorant that his son has fallen in the forest of Wilyankuru.
Shaw is improving fast. I am unsuccessful as yet in procuring soldiers.
I almost despair of ever being able to move from here. It is such a
drowsy, sleepy, slow, dreaming country. Arabs, Wangwana, Wanyamwezi, are
all alike--all careless how time flies. Their to-morrow means sometimes
within a month. To me it is simply maddening.
August 30th.--Shaw will not work. I cannot get him to stir himself. I
have petted him and coaxed him; I have even cooked little luxuries
for him myself. And, while I am straining every nerve to get ready for
Ujiji, Shaw is satisfied with looking on listlessly. What a change from
the ready-handed bold man he was at Zanzibar!
I sat down by his side to-day with my palm and needle in order to
encourage him, and to-day, for the first time, I told him of the real
nature of my mission. I told him that I did not care about the geography
of the country half as much as I cared about FINDING LIVINGSTONE! I told
him, for the first time, "Now, my dear Shaw, you think probably that I
have been sent here to find the depth of the Tanganika. Not a bit of
it, man; I was told to find Livingstone. It is to find Livingstone I am
here. It is to find Livingstone I am going. Don't you see, old fellow,
the importance of the mission; don't you see what reward you will get
from Mr. Bennett, if you will help me? I am sure, if ever you come to
New York, you will never be in want of a fifty-dollar bill. So shake
yourself; jump about; look lively. Say you will not die; that is half
the battle. Snap your fingers at the fever. I will guarantee the fever
won't kill you. I have medicine enough for a regiment here!"
His eyes lit up a little, but the light that shone in them shortly
faded, and died. I was quite disheartened. I made some strong punch, to
put fire in his veins, that I might see life in him. I put sugar, and
eggs, and seasoned it with lemon and spice. "Drink, Shaw," said I, "and
forget your infirmities. You are not sick, dear fellow; it is only ennui
you are feeling. Look at Selim there. Now, I will bet any amount, that
he will not die; that I will carry him home safe to his friends! I will
carry you home also, if you will, let me!"
September 1st:--According to Thani bin Abdullah whom I visited to-day,
at his tembe in Maroro, Mirambo lost two hundred men in the attack upon
Tabora, while the Arabs' losses were, five Arabs, thirteen freemen and
eight slaves, besides three tembes, and over one hundred small huts
burned, two hundred and eighty ivory tusks, and sixty cows and bullocks
captured.
September 3rd.--Received a packet of letters and newspapers from Capt.
Webb, at Zanzibar. What a good thing it is that one's friends, even in
far America, think of the absent one in Africa! They tell me, that no
one dreams of my being in Africa yet!
I applied to Sheikh bin Nasib to-day to permit Livingstone's caravan to
go under my charge to Ujiji, but he would not listen to it. He says he
feels certain I am going to my death.
September 4th.--Shaw is quite well to-day, he says. Selim is down with
the fever. My force is gradually increasing, though some of my old
soldiers are falling off. Umgareza is blind; Baruti has the small-pox
very badly; Sadala has the intermittent.
September 5th.--Baruti died this morning. He was one of my best
soldiers; and was one of those men who accompanied Speke to Egypt.
Baruti is number seven of those who have died since leaving Zanzibar.
To-day my ears have been poisoned with the reports of the Arabs, about
the state of the country I am about to travel through. "The roads are
bad; they are all stopped; the Ruga-Ruga are out in the forests; the
Wakonongo are coming from the south to help Mirambo; the Washensi are
at war, one tribe against another." My men are getting dispirited, they
have imbibed the fears of the Arabs and the Wanyamwezi. Bombay begins
to feel that I had better go back to the coast, and try again some other
time.
We buried Baruti under the shade of the banyan-tree, a few yards west
of my tembe. The grave was made four and a half feet deep and three
feet wide. At the bottom on one side a narrow trench was excavated,
into which the body was rolled on his side, with his face turned
towards Mecca. The body was dressed in a doti and a half of new American
sheeting. After it was placed properly in its narrow bed, a sloping
roof of sticks, covered over with matting and old canvas, was made, to
prevent the earth from falling over the body. The grave was then filled,
the soldiers laughing merrily. On the top of the grave was planted a
small shrub, and into a small hole made with the hand, was poured water
lest he might feel thirsty--they said--on his way to Paradise; water was
then sprinkled all ever the grave, and the gourd broken. This ceremony
being ended, the men recited the Arabic Fat-hah, after which they left
the grave of their dead comrade to think no more of him.
September 7th.--An Arab named Mohammed presented me to-day with a little
boy-slave, called "Ndugu M'hali" (my brother's wealth). As I did not
like the name, I called the chiefs of my caravan together, and asked
them to give him a better name. One suggested "Simba" (a lion), another
said he thought "Ngombe" (a cow) would suit the boy-child, another
thought he ought to be called "Mirambo," which raised a loud laugh.
Bombay thought "Bombay Mdogo" would suit my black-skinned infant very
well. Ulimengo, however, after looking at his quick eyes, and noting his
celerity of movement, pronounced the name Ka-lu-la as the best for him,
"because," said he, "just look at his eyes, so bright look at his form,
so slim! watch his movements, how quick! Yes, Kalulu is his name." "Yes,
bana," said the others, "let it be Kalulu."
"Kalulu" is a Kisawahili term for the young of the blue-buck
(perpusilla) antelope.
"Well, then," said I, water being brought in a huge tin pan, Selim, who
was willing to stand godfather, holding him over the water, "let his
name henceforth be Kalulu, and let no man take it from him," and thus it
was that the little black boy of Mohammed's came to be called Kalulu.
The Expedition is increasing in numbers.
We had quite an alarm before dark. Much firing was heard at Tabora,
which led us to anticipate an attack on Kwihara. It turned out, however,
to be a salute fired in honour of the arrival of Sultan Kitambi to pay a
visit to Mkasiwa, Sultan of Unyanyembe.
September 8th.--Towards night Sheikh bin Nasib received a letter from
an Arab at Mfuto, reporting that an attack was made on that place by
Mirambo and his Watuta allies. It also warned him to bid the people of
Kwihara hold themselves in readiness, because if Mirambo succeeded in
storming Mfuto, he would march direct on Kwihara.
September 9th.--Mirambo was defeated with severe loss yesterday, in his
attack upon Mfuto. He was successful in an assault he made upon a
small Wanyamwezi village, but when he attempted to storm Mfuto, he
was repulsed with severe loss, losing three of his principal men. Upon
withdrawing his forces from the attack, the inhabitants sallied out, and
followed him to the forest of Umanda, where he was again utterly routed,
himself ingloriously flying from the field.
The heads of his chief men slain in the attack were brought to Kwikuru,
the boma of Mkasiwa.
September 14th.--The Arab boy Selim is delirious from constant fever.
Shaw is sick again. These two occupy most of my time. I am turned into a
regular nurse, for I have no one to assist me in attending upon them. If
I try to instruct Abdul Kader in the art of being useful, his head is so
befogged with the villainous fumes of Unyamwezi tobacco, that he wanders
bewildered about, breaking dishes, and upsetting cooked dainties, until
I get so exasperated that my peace of mind is broken completely for
a full hour. If I ask Ferajji, my now formally constituted cook, to
assist, his thick wooden head fails to receive an idea, and I am thus
obliged to play the part of chef de cuisine.
September 15th.--The third month of my residence in Unyanyembe is almost
finished, and I am still here, but I hope to be gone before the 23rd
inst.
All last night, until nine A.M. this morning, my soldiers danced and
sang to the names of their dead comrades, whose bones now bleach in the
forests of Wilyankuru. Two or three huge pots of pombe failed to satisfy
the raging thirst which the vigorous exercise they were engaged in,
created. So, early this morning, I was called upon to contribute a
shukka for another potful of the potent liquor.
To-day I was busy selecting the loads for each soldier and pagazi. In
order to lighten their labor as much as possible, I reduced each load
from 70 lbs. to 50 lbs., by which I hope to be enabled to make some long
marches. I have been able to engage ten pagazis during the last two or
three days.
I have two or three men still very sick, and it is almost useless to
expect that they will be able to carry anything, but I am in hopes that
other men may be engaged to take their places before the actual day of
departure, which now seems to be drawing near rapidly.
September 16th.--We have almost finished our work--on the fifth day from
this--God willing--we shall march. I engaged two more pagazis besides
two guides, named Asmani and Mabruki. If vastness of the human form
could terrify any one, certainly Asmani's appearance is well calculated
to produce that effect. He stands considerably over six feet without
shoes, and has shoulders broad enough for two ordinary men.
To-morrow I mean to give the people a farewell feast, to celebrate our
departure from this forbidding and unhappy country.
September 17th.--The banquet is ended. I slaughtered two bullocks, and
had a barbacue; three sheep, two goats, and fifteen chickens, 120 lbs.
of rice, twenty large loaves of bread made of Indian corn-flour, one
hundred eggs, 10 lbs. of butter, and five gallons of sweet-milk, were
the contents of which the banquet was formed. The men invited their
friends and neighbours, and about one hundred women and children partook
of it.
After the banquet was ended, the pombe, or native beer, was brought
in in five gallon pots, and the people commenced their dance, which
continues even now as I write.
September 19th.--I had a slight attack of fever to-day, which has
postponed our departure. Selim and Shaw are both recovered.
About 8 P.M. Sheik bin Nasib came to me imploring me not to go away
to-morrow, because I was so sick. Thani Sakhburi suggested to me that I
might stay another month. In answer, I told them that white men are not
accustomed to break their words. I had said I would go, and I intended
to go.
Sheikh bin Nasib gave up all hope of inducing me to remain another day,
and he has gone away, with a promise to write to Seyd Burghash to tell
him how obstinate I am; and that I am determined to be killed. This was
a parting shot.
About 10 P.M. the fever had gone. All were asleep in the tembe but
myself, and an unutterable loneliness came on me as I reflected on my
position, and my intentions, and felt the utter lack of sympathy with me
in all around. It requires more nerve than I possess, to dispel all the
dark presentiments that come upon the mind. But probably what I call
presentiments are simply the impress on the mind of the warnings which
these false-hearted Arabs have repeated so often. This melancholy and
loneliness I feel, may probably have their origin from the same cause.
The single candle, which barely lights up the dark shade that fills the
corners of my room, is but a poor incentive to cheerfulness. I feel as
though I were imprisoned between stone walls. But why should I feel
as if baited by these stupid, slow-witted Arabs and their warnings and
croakings? I fancy a suspicion haunts my mind, as I write, that there
lies some motive behind all this. I wonder if these Arabs tell me
all these things to keep me here, in the hope that I might be induced
another time to assist them in their war with Mirambo! If they think
so, they are much mistaken, for I have taken a solemn, enduring oath,
an oath to be kept while the least hope of life remains in me, not to
be tempted to break the resolution I have formed, never to give up the
search, until I find Livingstone alive, or find his dead body; and never
to return home without the strongest possible proofs that he is alive,
or that he is dead. No living man, or living men, shall stop me, only
death can prevent me. But death--not even this; I shall not die, I will
not die, I cannot die! And something tells me, I do not know what it
is--perhaps it is the ever-living hopefulness of my own nature, perhaps
it is the natural presumption born out of an abundant and glowing
vitality, or the outcome of an overweening confidence in oneself--anyhow
and everyhow, something tells me to-night I shall find him, and--write
it larger--FIND HIM! FIND HIM! Even the words are inspiring. I feel more
happy. Have I uttered a prayer? I shall sleep calmly to-night.
I have felt myself compelled to copy out of my Diary the above notes,
as they explain, written as they are on the spot, the vicissitudes of my
"Life at Unyanyembe." To me they appear to explain far better than any
amount of descriptive writing, even of the most graphic, the nature
of the life I led. There they are, unexaggerated, in their literality,
precisely as I conceived them at the time they happened. They speak of
fevers without number to myself and men, they relate our dangers, and
little joys, our annoyances and our pleasures, as they occurred.