Departure from Unyanyembe.--The expedition reorganized.--
Bombay.--Mr. Shaw returns sick to Unyanyembe.--A noble
forest.-The fever described.--Happiness of the camp.--A
park-land.--Herds of game and noble sport.--A mutiny.--
Punishment of the ringleaders. Elephants.--Arrival at Mrera
The 20th of September had arrived. This was the day I had decided to cut
loose from those who tormented me with their doubts, their fears, and
beliefs, and commence the march to Ujiji by a southern route. I was very
weak from the fever that had attacked me the day before, and it was a
most injudicious act to commence a march under such circumstances. But I
had boasted to Sheikh bin Nasib that a white man never breaks his word,
and my reputation as a white man would have been ruined had I stayed
behind, or postponed the march, in consequence of feebleness.
I mustered the entire caravan outside the tembe, our flags and streamers
were unfurled, the men had their loads resting on the walls, there was
considerable shouting, and laughing, and negroidal fanfaronnade. The
Arabs had collected from curiosity's sake to see us off--all except
Sheikh bin Nasib, whom I had offended by my asinine opposition to his
wishes. The old Sheikh took to his bed, but sent his son to bear me a
last morsel of Philosophic sentimentality, which I was to treasure up as
the last words of the patriarchal Sheikh, the son of Nasib, the son of
Ali, the son of Sayf. Poor Sheikh! if thou hadst only known what was at
the bottom of this stubbornness--this ass-like determination to proceed
the wrong way--what wouldst thou then have said, 0 Sheikh? But the
Sheikh comforted himself with the thought that I might know what I was
about better than he did, which is most likely, only neither he nor any
other Arab will ever know exactly the motive that induced me to march at
all westward--when the road to the east was ever so much easier.
My braves whom I had enlisted for a rapid march somewhere, out of
Unyanyembe, were named as follows:--
1. John William Shaw, London, England.
2. Selim Heshmy, Arab.
3. Seedy Mbarak Mombay, Zanzibar.
4. Mabruki Spoke, ditto.
5. Ulimengo, ditto
6. Ambari, ditto.
7. Uledi, ditto.
8. Asmani, ditto.
9. Sarmean, ditto.
10. Kamna, ditto.
11. Zaidi, ditto.
12. Khamisi, ditto.
13. Chowpereh, Bagamoyo.
14. Kingaru, ditto.
15. Belali, ditto.
16. Ferous, Unyanyembe.
17. Rojab, Bagamoyo.
18. Mabruk Unyanyembe, Unyanyembe.
19. Mtamani, ditto.
20. Chanda, Maroro.
21. Sadala, Zanzibar.
22. Kombo, ditto.
23. Saburi the Great, Maroro.
24. Saburi the Little, ditto.
25. Marora, ditto.
26. Ferajji (the cook), Zanzibar.
27. Mabruk Saleem, Zanzibar.
28. Baraka, ditto.
29. Ibrahim, Maroro.
30. Mabruk Ferous, ditto.
31. Baruti, Bagamoyo.
32. Umgareza, Zanzibar.
33. Hamadi (the guide), ditto.
34. Asmani, ditto, ditto.
35. Mabruk, ditto ditto.
36. Hamdallah (the guide), Tabora.
37. Jumah, Zanzibar.
38. Maganga, Mkwenkwe.
39. Muccadum, Tabora.
40. Dasturi, ditto.
41. Tumayona, Ujiji.
42. Mparamoto, Ujiji.
43. Wakiri, ditto.
44. Mufu, ditto.
45. Mpepo, ditto.
46. Kapingu, Ujiji.
47. Mashishanga, ditto.
48. Muheruka, ditto.
49. Missossi, ditto.
50. Tufum Byah, ditto.
51. Majwara (boy), Uganda.
52. Belali (boy), Uemba.
53. Kalulu (boy), Lunda.
54. Abdul Kader (tailor), Malabar.
These are the men and boys whom I had chosen to be my companions on
the apparently useless mission of seeking for the lost traveller, David
Livingstone. The goods with which I had burdened them, consisted of
1,000 doti, or 4,000 yds. of cloth, six bags of beads, four loads of
ammunition, one tent, one bed and clothes, one box of medicine, sextant
and books, two loads of tea, coffee, and sugar, one load of flour
and candles, one load of canned meats, sardines, and miscellaneous
necessaries, and one load of cooking utensils.
The men were all in their places except Bombay. Bombay had gone; he
could not be found. I despatched a man to hunt him up. He was found
weeping in the arms of his Delilah.
"Why did you go away, Bombay, when you knew I intended to go, and was
waiting?"
"Oh, master, I was saying good-bye to my missis."
"Oh, indeed?"
"Yes, master; you no do it, when you go away?
"Silence, sir."
"Oh! all right."
"What is the matter with you, Bombay?"
"Oh, nuffin."
As I saw he was in a humour to pick a quarrel with me before those Arabs
who had congregated outside of my tembe to witness my departure; and as
I was not in a humour to be balked by anything that might turn up, the
consequence was, that I was obliged to thrash Bombay, an operation which
soon cooled his hot choler, but brought down on my head a loud chorus
of remonstrances from my pretended Arab friends--"Now, master, don't,
don't--stop it, master: the poor man knows better than you what he and
you may expect on the road you are now taking."
If anything was better calculated to put me in a rage than Bombay's
insolence before a crowd it was this gratuitous interference with what
I considered my own especial business; but I restrained myself, though I
told them, in a loud voice, that I did not choose to be interfered with,
unless they wished to quarrel with me.
"No, no, bana," they all exclaimed; "we do not wish to quarrel with you.
In the name of God! go on your way in peace."
"Fare you well, then," said I, shaking hands with them.
"Farewell, master, farewell. We wish you, we are sure, all success, and
God be with you, and guide you!"
"March!"
A parting salute was fired; the flags were raised up by the guides, each
pagazi rushed for his load, and in a short time, with songs and shouts,
the head of the Expedition had filed round the western end of my tembe
along the road to Ugunda.
"Now, Mr. Shaw, I am waiting, sir. Mount your donkey, if you cannot
walk."
"Please, Mr. Stanley, I am afraid I cannot go."
"Why?"
"I don't know, I am sure. I feel very weak."
"So am I weak. It was but late last night, as you know, that the fever
left me. Don't back out before these Arabs; remember you are a white
man. Here, Selim, Mabruki, Bombay, help Mr. Shaw on his donkey, and walk
by him."
"Oh, bana, bans," said the Arabs, "don't take him. Do you not see he is
sick?"
"You keep away; nothing will prevent me from taking him. He shall go."
"Go on, Bombay."
The last of my party had gone. The tembe, so lately a busy scene, had
already assumed a naked, desolate appearance. I turned towards the
Arabs, lifted my hat, and said again, "Farewell," then faced about
for the south, followed by my four young gun-bearers, Selim, Kalulu,
Majwara, and Belali.
After half an hour's march the scenery became more animated. Shaw began
to be amused. Bombay had forgotten our quarrel, and assured me, if I
could pass Mirambo's country, I should "catch the Tanganika;" Mabruki
Burton also believed we should. Selim was glad to leave Unyanyembe,
where he had suffered so much from fever; and there was a something in
the bold aspect of the hills which cropped upward--above fair valleys,
that enlivened and encouraged me to proceed.
In an hour and a half, we arrived at our camp in the Kinyamwezi village
of Mkwenkwe, the birthplace--of our famous chanter Maganga.
My tent was pitched, the goods were stored in one of the tembes; but
one-half the men had returned to Kwihara, to take one more embrace of
their wives and concubines.
Towards night I was attacked once again with the intermittent fever.
Before morning it had departed, leaving me terribly prostrated with
weakness. I had heard the men conversing with each other over their
camp-fires upon the probable prospects of the next day. It was a
question with them whether I should continue the march. Mostly all were
of opinion that, since the master was sick, there would be no march. A
superlative obstinacy, however, impelled me on, merely to spite their
supine souls; but when I sallied out of my tent to call them to get
ready, I found that at least twenty were missing; and Livingstone's
letter-carrier, "Kaif-Halek"--or, How-do-ye-do?--had not arrived with
Dr. Livingstone's letter-bag.
Selecting twenty of the strongest and faithfulest men I despatched them
back to Unyanyembe in search of the missing men; and Selim was sent to
Sheikh bin Nasib to borrow, or buy, a long slave-chain.
Towards night my twenty detectives returned with nine of the missing
men. The Wajiji had deserted in a body, and they could not be found.
Selim also returned with a strong chain, capable of imprisoning within
the collars attached to it at least ten men. Kaif-Halek also appeared
with the letter-bag which he was to convey to Livingstone under my
escort. The men were then addressed, and the slave-chain exhibited
to them. I told them that I was the first white man who had taken a
slave-chain with him on his travels; but, as they were all so frightened
of accompanying me, I was obliged to make use of it, as it was the only
means of keeping them together. The good need never fear being chained
by me--only the deserters, the thieves, who received their hire and
presents, guns and ammunition, and then ran away.
I would not put any one this time in chains; but whoever deserted after
this day, I should halt, and not continue the march till I found him,
after which he should march to Ujiji with the slave-chain round
his neck. "Do you hear?"--"Yes," was the answer. "Do you
understand?"--"Yes."
We broke up camp at 6 P.M., and took the road for Inesuka, at which
place we arrived at 8 P.M.
When we were about commencing the march the next morning, it was
discovered that two more had deserted. Baraka and Bombay were at once
despatched to Unyanyembe to bring back the two missing men--Asmani and
Kingaru--with orders not to return without them. This was the third
time that the latter had deserted, as the reader may remember. While the
pursuit was being effected we halted at the village of Inesuka, more for
the sake of Shaw than any one else.
In the evening the incorrigible deserters were brought back, and, as I
had threatened, were well flogged and chained, to secure them against
further temptation. Bombay and Baraka had a picturesque story to relate
of the capture; and, as I was in an exceedingly good humour, their
services were rewarded with a fine cloth each.
On the following morning another carrier had absconded, taking with
him his hire of fifteen new cloths and a gun but to halt anywhere
near Unyanyembe any longer was a danger that could be avoided only by
travelling without stoppages towards the southern jungle-lands. It will
be remembered I had in my train the redoubtable Abdul Kader, the tailor,
he who had started from Bagamoyo with such bright anticipations of the
wealth of ivory to be obtained in the great interior of Africa. On this
morning, daunted by the reports of the dangers ahead, Abdul Kader
craved to be discharged. He vowed he was sick, and unable to proceed any
further. As I was pretty well tired of him, I paid him off in cloth, and
permitted him to go.
About half way to Kasegera Mabruk Saleem was suddenly taken sick. I
treated him with a grain of calomel, and a couple of ounces of brandy.
As he was unable to walk, I furnished him with a donkey. Another man
named Zaidi was ill with a rheumatic fever; and Shaw tumbled twice off
the animal he was riding, and required an infinite amount of coaxing to
mount again. Verily, my expedition was pursued by adverse fortunes,
and it seemed as if the Fates had determined upon our return. It really
appeared as if everything was going to wreck and ruin. If I were only
fifteen days from Unyanyembe, thought I, I should be saved!
Kasegera was a scene of rejoicing the afternoon and evening of our
arrival. Absentees had just returned from the coast, and the youths were
brave in their gaudy bedizenment, their new barsatis, their soharis, and
long cloths of bright new kaniki, with which they had adorned themselves
behind some bush before they had suddenly appeared dressed in all this
finery. The women "Hi-hi'ed" like maenads, and the "Lu-lu-lu'ing" was
loud, frequent, and fervent the whole of that afternoon. Sylphlike
damsels looked up to the youthful heroes with intensest admiration
on their features; old women coddled and fondled them; staff-using,
stooping-backed patriarchs blessed them. This is fame in Unyamwezi! All
the fortunate youths had to use their tongues until the wee hours of
next morning had arrived, relating all the wonders they had seen near
the Great Sea, and in the "Unguja," the island of Zanzibar; of how they
saw great white men's ships, and numbers of white men, of their perils
and trials during their journey through the land of the fierce Wagogo,
and divers other facts, with which the reader and I are by this time
well acquainted.
On the 24th we struck camp, and marched through a forest of imbiti wood
in a S.S.W. direction, and in about three hours came to Kigandu.
On arriving before this village, which is governed by a daughter of
Mkasiwa, we were informed we could not enter unless we paid toll. As we
would not pay toll, we were compelled to camp in a ruined, rat-infested
boma, situated a mile to the left of Kigandu, being well scolded by the
cowardly natives for deserting Mkasiwa in his hour of extremity. We were
accused of running away from the war.
Almost on the threshold of our camp Shaw, in endeavouring to dismount,
lost his stirrups, and fell prone on his face. The foolish fellow
actually, laid on the ground in the hot sun a full hour; and when I
coldly asked him if he did not feel rather uncomfortable, he sat up, and
wept like a child.
"Do you wish to go back, Mr. Shaw?"
"If you please. I do not believe I can go any farther; and if you would
only be kind enough, I should like to return very much."
"Well, Mr. Shaw, I have come to the conclusion that it is best, you
should return. My patience is worn out. I have endeavoured faithfully to
lift you above these petty miseries which you nourish so devotedly. You
are simply suffering from hypochondria. You imagine yourself sick,
and nothing, evidently, will persuade you that you are not. Mark my
words--to return to Unyanyembe, is to DIE! Should you happen to fall
sick in Kwihara who knows how to administer medicine to you? Supposing
you are delirious, how can any of the soldiers know what you want, or
what is beneficial and necessary for you? Once again, I repeat, if you
return, you DIE!"
"Ah, dear me; I wish I had never ventured to come! I thought life in
Africa was so different from this. I would rather go back if you will
permit me."
The next day was a halt, and arrangements were made for the
transportation of Shaw back to Kwihara. A strong litter was made, and
four stout pagazis were hired at Kigandu to carry him. Bread was baked,
a canteen was filled with cold tea, and a leg of a kid was roasted for
his sustenance while on the road.
The night before we parted we spent together. Shaw played some tunes on
an accordion which I had purchased for him at Zanzibar; but, though
it was only a miserable ten-dollar affair, I thought the homely tunes
evoked from the instrument that night were divine melodies. The last
tune played before retiring was "Home, sweet Home."
The morning of the 27th we were all up early: There was considerable vis
in our movements. A long, long march lay before us that day; but then
I was to leave behind all the sick and ailing. Only those who were
healthy, and could march fast and long, were to accompany me. Mabruk
Saleem I left in charge of a native doctor, who was to medicate him for
a gift of cloth which I gave him in advance.
The horn sounded to get ready. Shaw was lifted in his litter on the
shoulders of his carriers. My men formed two ranks; the flags were
lifted; and between these two living rows, and under those bright
streamers, which were to float over the waters of the Tanganika before
he should see them again, Shaw was borne away towards the north; while
we filed off to the south, with quicker and more elastic steps, as if we
felt an incubus had been taken from us.
We ascended a ridge bristling with syenite boulders of massive size,
appearing above a forest of dwarf trees. The view which we saw was
similar to that we had often seen elsewhere. An illimitable forest
stretching in grand waves far beyond the ken of vision--ridges,
forest-clad, rising gently one above another until they receded in the
dim purple-blue distance--with a warm haze floating above them, which,
though clear enough in our neighbourhood, became impenetrably blue in
the far distance. Woods, woods, woods, leafy branches, foliage globes,
or parachutes, green, brown, or sere in colour, forests one above
another, rising, falling, and receding--a very leafy ocean. The horizon,
at all points, presents the same view, there may be an indistinct
outline of a hill far away, or here and there a tall tree higher than
the rest conspicuous in its outlines against the translucent sky--with
this exception it is the same--the same clear sky dropping into the
depths of the forest, the same outlines, the same forest, the same
horizon, day after day, week after week; we hurry to the summit of a
ridge, expectant of a change, but the wearied eyes, after wandering over
the vast expanse, return to the immediate surroundings, satiated with
the eversameness of such scenes. Carlyle, somewhere in his writings,
says, that though the Vatican is great, it is but the chip of an
eggshell compared to the star-fretted dome where Arcturus and Orion
glance for ever; and I say that, though the grove of Central Park, New
York, is grand compared to the thin groves seen in other great cities,
that though the Windsor and the New Forests may be very fine and noble
in England, yet they are but fagots of sticks compared to these eternal
forests of Unyamwezi.
We marched three hours, and then halted for refreshments. I perceived
that the people were very tired, not yet inured to a series of long
marches, or rather, not in proper trim for earnest, hard work after our
long rest in Kwihara. When we resumed our march again there were several
manifestations of bad temper and weariness. But a few good-natured
remarks about their laziness put them on their mettle, and we reached
Ugunda at 2 P.M. after another four hours' spurt.
Ugunda is a very large village in the district of Ugunda, which adjoins
the southern frontier of Unyanyembe. The village probably numbers four
hundred families, or two thousand souls. It is well protected by a tall
and strong palisade of three-inch timber. Stages have been erected at
intervals above the palisades with miniature embrasures in the timber,
for the muskets of the sharpshooters, who take refuge within these
box-like stages to pick out the chiefs of an attacking force. An inner
ditch, with the sand or soil thrown up three or four feet high against
the palings, serves as protection for the main body of the defenders,
who kneel in the ditch, and are thus enabled to withstand a very large
force. For a mile or two outside the village all obstructions are
cleared, and the besieged are thus warned by sharp-eyed watchers to
be prepared for the defence before the enemy approaches within
musket range. Mirambo withdrew his force of robbers from before this
strongly-defended village after two or three ineffectual attempts to
storm it, and the Wagunda have been congratulating themselves ever
since, upon having driven away the boldest marauder that Unyamwezi has
seen for generations.
The Wagunda have about three thousand acres under cultivation around
their principal village, and this area suffices to produce sufficient
grain not only for their own consumption, but also for the many caravans
which pass by this way for Ufipa and Marungu.
However brave the Wagunda may be within the strong enclosure with which
they have surrounded their principal village, they are not exempt from
the feeling of insecurity which fills the soul of a Mnyamwezi during
war-time. At this place the caravans are accustomed to recruit their
numbers from the swarms of pagazis who volunteer to accompany them to
the distant ivory regions south; but I could not induce a soul to follow
me, so great was their fear of Mirambo and his Ruga-Raga. They were also
full of rumors of wars ahead. It was asserted that Mbogo was advancing
towards Ugunda with a thousand Wakonongo, that the Wazavira had attacked
a caravan four months previously, that Simba was scouring the country
with a band of ferocious mercenaries, and much more of the same nature
and to the same intent.
On the 28th we arrived at a small snug village embosomed within the
forest called Benta, three hours and a quarter from Ugunda. The road led
through the cornfields of the Wagunda, and then entered the clearings
around the villages of Kisari, within one of which we found the
proprietor of a caravan who was drumming up carriers for Ufipa. He had
been halted here two months, and he made strenuous exertions to induce
my men to join his caravan, a proceeding that did not tend to promote
harmony between us. A few days afterwards I found, on my return, that
he had given up the idea of proceeding south. Leaving Kisari, we marched
through a thin jungle of black jack, over sun-cracked ground with here
and there a dried-up pool, the bottom of which was well tramped by
elephant and rhinoceros. Buffalo and zebra tracks were now frequent, and
we were buoyed up with the hope that before long we should meet game.
Benta was well supplied with Indian corn and a grain which the natives
called choroko, which I take to be vetches. I purchased a large supply
of choroko for my own personal use, as I found it to be a most healthy
food. The corn was stored on the flat roofs of the tembes in huge boxes
made out of the bark of the mtundu-tree. The largest box I have ever
seen in Africa was seen here. It might be taken for a Titan's hat-box;
it was seven feet in diameter, and ten feet in height.
On the 29th, after travelling in a S.W. by S. direction, we reached
Kikuru. The march lasted for five hours over sun-cracked plains, growing
the black jack, and ebony, and dwarf shrubs, above which numerous
ant-hills of light chalky-coloured earth appeared like sand dunes.
The mukunguru, a Kisawahili term for fever, is frequent in this region
of extensive forests and flat plains, owing to the imperfect drainage
provided by nature for them. In the dry season there is nothing very
offensive in the view of the country. The burnt grass gives rather a
sombre aspect to the country, covered with the hard-baked tracks of
animals which haunt these plains during the latter part of the rainy
season. In the forest numbers of trees lie about in the last stages of
decay, and working away with might and main on the prostrate trunks may
be seen numberless insects of various species. Impalpably, however, the
poison of the dead and decaying vegetation is inhaled into the system
with a result sometimes as fatal as that which is said to arise from the
vicinity of the Upas-tree.
The first evil results experienced from the presence of malaria are
confined bowels and an oppressive languor, excessive drowsiness, and
a constant disposition to yawn. The tongue assumes a yellowish, sickly
hue, coloured almost to blackness; even the teeth become yellow, and
are coated with an offensive matter. The eyes of the patient sparkle
lustrously, and become suffused with water. These are sure symptoms of
the incipient fever which shortly will rage through the system.
Sometimes this fever is preceded by a violent shaking fit, during which
period blankets may be heaped on the patient's form, with but little
amelioration of the deadly chill he feels. It is then succeeded by an
unusually severe headache, with excessive pains about the loins and
spinal column, which presently will spread over the shoulder-blades,
and, running up the neck, find a final lodgment in the back and front
of the head. Usually, however, the fever is not preceded by a chill,
but after languor and torpitude have seized him, with excessive heat and
throbbing temples, the loin and spinal column ache, and raging thirst
soon possesses him. The brain becomes crowded with strange fancies,
which sometimes assume most hideous shapes. Before the darkened vision
of the suffering man, float in a seething atmosphere, figures of created
and uncreated reptiles, which are metamorphosed every instant into
stranger shapes and designs, growing every moment more confused, more
complicated, more hideous and terrible. Unable to bear longer the
distracting scene, he makes an effort and opens, his eyes, and dissolves
the delirious dream, only, however, to glide again unconsciously
into another dream-land where another unreal inferno is dioramically
revealed, and new agonies suffered. Oh! the many many hours, that I have
groaned under the terrible incubi which the fits of real delirium evoke.
Oh! the racking anguish of body that a traveller in Africa must
undergo! Oh! the spite, the fretfulness, the vexation which the horrible
phantasmagoria of diabolisms induce! The utmost patience fails to
appease, the most industrious attendance fails to gratify, the deepest
humility displeases. During these terrible transitions, which induce
fierce distraction, Job himself would become irritable, insanely
furious, and choleric. A man in such a state regards himself as the
focus of all miseries. When recovered, he feels chastened, becomes
urbane and ludicrously amiable, he conjures up fictitious delights from
all things which, but yesterday, possessed for him such awful portentous
aspects. His men he regards with love and friendship; whatever is trite
he views with ecstasy. Nature appears charming; in the dead woods and
monotonous forest his mind becomes overwhelmed with delight. I speak
for myself, as a careful analysation of the attack, in all its severe,
plaintive, and silly phases, appeared to me. I used to amuse myself
with taking notes of the humorous and the terrible, the fantastic and
exaggerated pictures that were presented to me--even while suffering the
paroxysms induced by fever.
We arrived at a large pool, known as the Ziwani, after a four hours'
march in a S.S.W. direction, the 1st of October. We discovered an old
half-burnt khambi, sheltered by a magnificent mkuyu (sycamore), the
giant of the forests of Unyamwezi, which after an hour we transformed
into a splendid camp.
If I recollect rightly, the stem of the tree measured thirty-eight
feet in circumference. It is the finest tree of its kind I have seen
in Africa. A regiment might with perfect ease have reposed under this
enormous dome of foliage during a noon halt. The diameter of the shadow
it cast on the ground was one hundred and twenty feet. The healthful
vigor that I was enjoying about this time enabled me to regard my
surroundings admiringly. A feeling of comfort and perfect contentment
took possession of me, such as I knew not while fretting at Unyanyembe,
wearing my life away in inactivity. I talked with my people as to my
friends and equals. We argued with each other about our prospects in
quite a companionable, sociable vein.
When daylight was dying, and the sun was sinking down rapidly over the
western horizon, vividly painting the sky with the colours of gold
and silver, saffron, and opal, when its rays and gorgeous tints were
reflected upon the tops of the everlasting forest, with the quiet and
holy calm of heaven resting upon all around, and infusing even into the
untutored minds of those about me the exquisite enjoyments of such a
life as we were now leading in the depths of a great expanse of forest,
the only and sole human occupants of it--this was the time, after our
day's work was ended, and the camp was in a state of perfect security,
when we all would produce our pipes, and could best enjoy the labors
which we had performed, and the contentment which follows a work well
done.
Outside nothing is heard beyond the cry of a stray florican, or
guinea-fowl, which has lost her mate, or the hoarse croaking of the
frogs in the pool hard by, or the song of the crickets which seems to
lull the day to rest; inside our camp are heard the gurgles of the
gourd pipes as the men inhale the blue ether, which I also love. I am
contented and happy, stretched on my carpet under the dome of living
foliage, smoking my short meerschaum, indulging in thoughts--despite the
beauty of the still grey light of the sky; and of the air of serenity
which prevails around--of home and friends in distant America, and these
thoughts soon change to my work--yet incomplete--to the man who to me is
yet a myth, who, for all I know, may be dead, or may be near or far from
me tramping through just such a forest, whose tops I see bound the
view outside my camp. We are both on the same soil, perhaps in the same
forest--who knows?--yet is he to me so far removed that he might as well
be in his own little cottage of Ulva. Though I am even now ignorant
of his very existence, yet I feel a certain complacency, a certain
satisfaction which would be difficult to describe. Why is man so feeble,
and weak, that he must tramp, tramp hundreds of miles to satisfy
the doubts his impatient and uncurbed mind feels? Why cannot my form
accompany the bold flights of my mind and satisfy the craving I feel to
resolve the vexed question that ever rises to my lips--"Is he alive?"
O soul of mine, be patient, thou hast a felicitous tranquillity, which
other men might envy thee! Sufficient for the hour is the consciousness
thou hast that thy mission is a holy one! Onward, and be hopeful!
Monday, the 2nd of October, found us traversing the forest and plain
that extends from the Ziwani to Manyara, which occupied us six and a
half hours. The sun was intensely hot; but the mtundu and miombo trees
grew at intervals, just enough to admit free growth to each tree, while
the blended foliage formed a grateful shade. The path was clear and
easy, the tamped and firm red soil offered no obstructions. The only
provocation we suffered was from the attacks of the tsetse, or panga
(sword) fly, which swarmed here. We knew we were approaching an
extensive habitat of game, and we were constantly on the alert for any
specimens that might be inhabiting these forests.
While we were striding onward, at the rate of nearly three miles an
hour, the caravan I perceived sheered off from the road, resuming it
about fifty yards ahead of something on the road, to which the attention
of the men was directed. On coming up, I found the object to be the
dead body of a man, who had fallen a victim to that fearful scourge
of Africa, the small-pox. He was one of Oseto's gang of marauders, or
guerillas, in the service of Mkasiwa of Unyanyembe, who were hunting
these forests for the guerillas of Mirambo. They had been returning from
Ukonongo from a raid they had instituted against the Sultan of Mbogo,
and they had left their comrade to perish in the road. He had apparently
been only one day dead.
Apropos of this, it was a frequent thing with us to discover a skeleton
or a skull on the roadside. Almost every day we saw one, sometimes two,
of these relics of dead, and forgotten humanity.
Shortly after this we emerged from the forest, and entered a mbuga, or
plain, in which we saw a couple of giraffes, whose long necks were seen
towering above a bush they had been nibbling at. This sight was greeted
with a shout; for we now knew we had entered the game country, and that
near the Gombe creek, or river, where we intended to halt, we should see
plenty of these animals.
A walk of three hours over this hot plain brought us to the cultivated
fields of Manyara. Arriving before the village-gate, we were forbidden
to enter, as the country was throughout in a state of war, and it
behoved them to be very careful of admitting any party, lest the
villagers might be compromised. We were, however, directed to a khambi
to the right of the village, near some pools of clear water, where we
discovered some half dozen ruined huts, which looked very uncomfortable
to tired people.
After we had built our camp, the kirangozi was furnished with some
cloths to purchase food from the village for the transit of a wilderness
in front of us, which was said to extend nine marches, or 135 miles.
He was informed that the Mtemi had strictly prohibited his people from
selling any grain whatever.
This evidently was a case wherein the exercise of a little diplomacy
could only be effective; because it would detain us several days here,
if we were compelled to send men back to Kikuru for provisions. Opening
a bale of choice goods, I selected two royal cloths, and told Bombay to
carry them to him, with the compliments and friendship of the white man.
The Sultan sulkily refused them, and bade him return to the white man
and tell him not to bother him. Entreaties were of no avail, he would
not relent; and the men, in exceedingly bad temper, and hungry, were
obliged to go to bed supperless. The words of Njara, a slave-trader,
and parasite of the great Sheikh bin Nasib, recurred to me. "Ah, master,
master, you will find the people will be too much for you, and that you
will have to return. The Wa-manyara are bad, the Wakonongo are very bad,
the Wazavira are the worst of all. You have come to this country at a
bad time. It is war everywhere." And, indeed, judging from the tenor
of the conversations around our camp-fires, it seemed but too evident.
There was every prospect of a general decamp of all my people. However,
I told them not to be discouraged; that I would get food for them in the
morning.
The bale of choice cloths was opened again next morning, and four royal
cloths were this time selected, and two dotis of Merikani, and Bombay
was again despatched, burdened with compliments, and polite words.
It was necessary to be very politic with a man who was so surly, and too
powerful to make an enemy of. What if he made up his mind to imitate
the redoubtable Mirambo, King of Uyoweh! The effect of my munificent
liberality was soon seen in the abundance of provender which came to my
camp. Before an hour went by, there came boxes full of choroko, beans,
rice, matama or dourra, and Indian corn, carried on the heads of a dozen
villagers, and shortly after the Mtemi himself came, followed by about
thirty musketeers and twenty spearmen, to visit the first white man
ever seen on this road. Behind these warriors came a liberal gift, fully
equal in value to that sent to him, of several large gourds of honey,
fowls, goats, and enough vetches and beans to supply my men with four
days' food.
I met the chief at the gate of my camp, and bowing profoundly, invited
him to my tent, which I had arranged as well as my circumstances would
permit, for this reception. My Persian carpet and bear skin were spread
out, and a broad piece of bran-new crimson cloth covered my kitanda, or
bedstead.
The chief, a tall robust man, and his chieftains, were invited to seat
themselves. They cast a look of such gratified surprise at myself, at
my face, my clothes, and guns, as is almost impossible to describe. They
looked at me intently for a few seconds, and then at each other, which
ended in an uncontrollable burst of laughter, and repeated snappings
of the fingers. They spoke the Kinyamwezi language, and my interpreter
Maganga was requested to inform the chief of the great delight I felt in
seeing them. After a short period expended in interchanging compliments,
and a competitive excellence at laughing at one another, their chief
desired me to show him my guns. The "sixteen-shooter," the Winchester
rifle, elicited a thousand flattering observations from the excited man;
and the tiny deadly revolvers, whose beauty and workmanship they thought
were superhuman, evoked such gratified eloquence that I was fain to try
something else. The double-barrelled guns fired with heavy charges of
power, caused them to jump up in affected alarm, and then to subside
into their seats convulsed with laughter. As the enthusiasm of my guests
increased, they seized each other's index fingers, screwed them, and
pulled at them until I feared they would end in their dislocation. After
having explained to them the difference between white men and Arabs, I
pulled out my medicine chest, which evoked another burst of rapturous
sighs at the cunning neatness of the array of vials. He asked what they
meant.
"Dowa," I replied sententiously, a word which may be
interpreted--medicine.
"Oh-h, oh-h," they murmured admiringly. I succeeded, before long, in
winning unqualified admiration, and my superiority, compared to the
best of the Arabs they had seen, was but too evident. "Dowa, dowa," they
added.
"Here," said I, uncorking a vial of medicinal brandy, "is the Kisungu
pombe" (white man's beer); "take a spoonful and try it," at the same
time handing it.
"Hacht, hacht, oh, hacht! what! eh! what strong beer the white men
have! Oh, how my throat burns!"
"Ah, but it is good," said I, "a little of it makes men feel strong, and
good; but too much of it makes men bad, and they die."
"Let me have some," said one of the chiefs; "and me," "and me," "and
me," as soon as each had tasted.
"I next produced a bottle of concentrated ammonia, which as I explained
was for snake bites, and head-aches; the Sultan immediately complained
he had a head-ache, and must have a little. Telling him to close his
eyes, I suddenly uncorked the bottle, and presented it to His Majesty's
nose. The effect was magical, for he fell back as if shot, and such
contortions as his features underwent are indescribable. His chiefs
roared with laughter, and clapped their hands, pinched each other,
snapped their fingers, and committed many other ludicrous things. I
verily believe if such a scene were presented on any stage in the world
the effect of it would be visible instantaneously on the audience; that
had they seen it as I saw it, they would have laughed themselves to
hysteria and madness. Finally the Sultan recovered himself, great tears
rolling down his cheeks, and his features quivering with laughter,
then he slowly uttered the word 'kali,'--hot, strong, quick, or ardent
medicine. He required no more, but the other chiefs pushed forward
to get one wee sniff, which they no sooner had, than all went into
paroxysms of uncontrollable laughter. The entire morning was passed in
this state visit, to the mutual satisfaction of all concerned. 'Oh,'
said the Sultan at parting, 'these white men know everything, the Arabs
are dirt compared to them!'"
That night Hamdallah, one of the guides, deserted, carrying with him his
hire (27 doti), and a gun. It was useless to follow him in the morning,
as it would have detained me many more days than I could afford; but
I mentally vowed that Mr. Hamdallah should work out those 27 doti of
cloths before I reached the coast.
Wednesday, October 4th, saw us travelling to the Gombe River, which is 4
h. 15 m. march from Manyara.
We had barely left the waving cornfields of my friend Ma-manyara before
we came in sight of a herd of noble zebra; two hours afterwards we
had entered a grand and noble expanse of park land, whose glorious
magnificence and vastness of prospect, with a far-stretching carpet of
verdure darkly flecked here and there by miniature clumps of jungle,
with spreading trees growing here and there, was certainly one of the
finest scenes to be seen in Africa. Added to which, as I surmounted one
of the numerous small knolls, I saw herds after herds of buffalo and
zebra, giraffe and antelope, which sent the blood coursing through my
veins in the excitement of the moment, as when I first landed on African
soil. We crept along the plain noiselessly to our camp on the banks of
the sluggish waters of the Gombe.
Here at last was the hunter's Paradise! How petty and insignificant
appeared my hunts after small antelope and wild boar what a foolish
waste of energies those long walks through damp grasses and through
thorny jungles! Did I not well remember ' my first bitter experience
in African jungles when in the maritime region! But this--where is
the nobleman's park that can match this scene? Here is a soft, velvety
expanse of young grass, grateful shade under those spreading clumps;
herds of large and varied game browsing within easy rifle range. Surely
I must feel amply compensated now for the long southern detour I have
made, when such a prospect as this opens to the view! No thorny jungles
and rank smelling swamps are here to daunt the hunter, and to sicken
his aspirations after true sport! No hunter could aspire after a nobler
field to display his prowess.
Having settled the position of the camp, which overlooked one of
the pools found in the depression of the Gombe creek, I took my
double-barrelled smooth-bore, and sauntered off to the park-land.
Emerging from behind a clump, three fine plump spring-bok were seen
browsing on the young grass just within one hundred yards. I knelt down
and fired; one unfortunate antelope bounded upward instinctively, and
fell dead. Its companions sprang high into the air, taking leaps about
twelve feet in length, as if they were quadrupeds practising gymnastics,
and away they vanished, rising up like India-rubber balls; until a
knoll hid them from view. My success was hailed with loud shouts by the
soldiers; who came running out from the camp as soon as they heard the
reverberation of the gun, and my gun-bearer had his knife at the beast's
throat, uttering a fervent "Bismillah!" as he almost severed the head
from the body.
Hunters were now directed to proceed east and north to procure meat,
because in each caravan it generally happens that there are fundi, whose
special trade it is to hunt for meat for the camp. Some of these are
experts in stalking, but often find themselves in dangerous positions,
owing to the near approach necessary, before they can fire their most
inaccurate weapons with any certainty.
After luncheon, consisting of spring-bok steak, hot corn-cake, and a
cup of delicious Mocha coffee, I strolled towards the south-west,
accompanied by Kalulu and Majwara, two boy gun-bearers. The tiny
perpusilla started up like rabbits from me as I stole along through the
underbrush; the honey-bird hopped from tree to tree chirping its
call, as if it thought I was seeking the little sweet treasure, the
hiding-place of which it only knew; but no! I neither desired perpusilla
nor the honey. I was on the search for something great this day.
Keen-eyed fish-eagles and bustards poised on trees above the sinuous
Gombe thought, and probably with good reason that I was after them;
judging by the ready flight with which both species disappeared as they
sighted my approach. Ah, no! nothing but hartebeest, zebra, giraffe,
eland, and buffalo this day! After following the Gombe's course for
about a mile, delighting my eyes with long looks at the broad and
lengthy reaches of water to which I was so long a stranger, I came upon
a scene which delighted the innermost recesses of my soul; five, six,
seven, eight, ten zebras switching their beautiful striped bodies, and
biting one another, within about one hundred and fifty yards. The scene
was so pretty, so romantic, never did I so thoroughly realize that I
was in Central Africa. I felt momentarily proud that I owned such a vast
domain, inhabited with such noble beasts. Here I possessed, within reach
of a leaden ball, any one I chose of the beautiful animals, the pride of
the African forests! It was at my option to shoot any of them! Mine they
were without money or without price; yet, knowing this, twice I dropped
my rifle, loth to wound the royal beasts, but--crack! and a royal one
was on his back battling the air with his legs. Ah, it was such a
pity! but, hasten, draw the keen sharp-edged knife across the beautiful
stripes which fold around the throat; and--what an ugly gash! it is
done, and 1 have a superb animal at my feet. Hurrah! I shall taste of
Ukonongo zebra to-night.
I thought a spring-bok and zebra enough for one day's sport, especially
after a long march. The Gombe, a long stretch of deep water, winding in
and out of green groves, calm, placid, with lotus leaves lightly resting
on its surface, all pretty, picturesque, peaceful as a summer's dream,
looked very inviting for a bath. I sought out the most shady spot under
a wide-spreading mimosa, from which the ground sloped smooth as a
lawn, to the still, clear water. I ventured to undress, and had already
stepped in to my ancles in the water, and had brought my hands together
for a glorious dive, when my attention was attracted by an enormously
long body which shot into view, occupying the spot beneath the surface
that I was about to explore by a "header." Great heavens, it was
a crocodile! I sprang backward instinctively, and this proved my
salvation, for the monster turned away with the most disappointed look,
and I was left to congratulate myself upon my narrow escape from his
jaws, and to register a vow never to be tempted again by the treacherous
calm of an African river.
As soon as I had dressed I turned away from the now repulsive aspect of
the stream. In strolling through the jungle, towards my camp, I detected
the forms of two natives looking sharply about them, and, after bidding
my young attendants to preserve perfect quiet, I crept on towards them,
and, by the aid of a thick clump of underbush, managed to arrive within
a few feet of the natives undetected. Their mere presence in the immense
forest, unexplained, was a cause of uneasiness in the then disturbed
state of the country, and my intention was to show myself suddenly to
them, and note its effect, which, if it betokened anything hostile to
the Expedition, could without difficulty be settled at once, with the
aid of my double-barrelled smooth-bore.
As I arrived on one side of this bush, the two suspicious-looking
natives arrived on the other side, and we were separated by only a
few feet. I made a bound, and we were face to face. The natives cast a
glance at the sudden figure of a white man, and seemed petrified for a
moment, but then, recovering themselves, they shrieked out, "Bana, bana,
you don't know us. We are Wakonongo, who came to your camp to accompany
you to Mrera, and we are looking for honey."
"Oh, to be sure, you are the Wakonongo. Yes--Yes. Ah, it is all right
now, I thought you might be Ruga-Ruga."
So the two parties, instead of being on hostile terms with each other,
burst out laughing. The Wakonongo enjoyed it very much, and laughed
heartily as they proceeded on their way to search for the wild honey.
On a piece of bark they carried a little fire with which they smoked the
bees out from their nest in the great mtundu-trees.
The adventures of the day were over; the azure of the sky had changed
to a dead grey; the moon was appearing just over the trees; the water
of the Gombe was like a silver belt; hoarse frogs bellowed their
notes loudly by the margin of the creek; the fish-eagles uttered their
dirge-like cries as they were perched high on the tallest tree; elands
snorted their warning to the herds in the forest; stealthy forms of the
carnivora stole through the dark woods outside of our camp. Within the
high inclosure of bush and thorn, which we had raised around our camp,
all was jollity, laughter, and radiant, genial comfort. Around every
camp-fire dark forms of men were seen squatted: one man gnawed at a
luscious bone; another sucked the rich marrow in a zebra's leg-bone;
another turned the stick, garnished with huge kabobs, to the bright
blaze; another held a large rib over a flame; there were others busy
stirring industriously great black potfuls of ugali, and watching
anxiously the meat simmering, and the soup bubbling, while the
fire-light flickered and danced bravely, and cast a bright glow over the
naked forms of the men, and gave a crimson tinge to the tall tent that
rose in the centre of the camp, like a temple sacred to some mysterious
god; the fires cast their reflections upon the massive arms of the
trees, as they branched over our camp, and, in the dark gloom of their
foliage, the most fantastic shadows were visible. Altogether it was
a wild, romantic, and impressive scene. But little recked my men for
shadows and moonlight, for crimson tints, and temple-like tents--they
were all busy relating their various experiences, and gorging themselves
with the rich meats our guns had obtained for us. One was telling how he
had stalked a wild boar, and the furious onset the wounded animal made
on him, causing him to drop his gun, and climb a tree, and the terrible
grunt of the beast he well remembered, and the whole welkin rang with
the peals of laughter which his mimic powers evoked. Another had shot a
buffalo-calf, and another had bagged a hartebeest; the Wakonongo related
their laughable rencontre with me in the woods, and were lavish in their
description of the stores of honey to be found in the woods; and all
this time Selim and his youthful subs were trying their sharp teeth on
the meat of a young pig which one of the hunters had shot, but which
nobody else would eat, because of the Mohammedan aversion to pig, which
they had acquired during their transformation from negro savagery to the
useful docility of the Zanzibar freed-man.
We halted the two following days, and made frequent raids on the herds
of this fine country. The first day I was fairly successful again in
the sport. I bagged a couple of antelopes, a kudu (A. strepsiceros) with
fine twisting horns, and a pallah-buck (A. melampus), a reddish-brown
animal, standing about three and a half feet, with broad posteriors.
I might have succeeded in getting dozens of animals had I any of those
accurate, heavy rifles manufactured by Lancaster, Reilly, or Blissett,
whose every shot tells. But my weapons, save my light smoothbore,
were unfit for African game. My weapons were more for men. With the
Winchester rifle, and the Starr's carbine, I was able to hit anything
within two hundred yards, but the animals, though wounded, invariably
managed to escape the knife, until I was disgusted with the pea-bullets.
What is wanted for this country is a heavy bore--No. 10 or 12 is the
real bone-crusher--that will drop every animal shot in its tracks, by
which all fatigue and disappointment are avoided. Several times during
these two days was I disappointed after most laborious stalking and
creeping along the ground. Once I came suddenly upon an eland while
I had a Winchester rifle in my hand--the eland and myself mutually
astonished--at not more than twenty-five yards apart. I fired at its
chest, and bullet, true to its aim, sped far into the internal parts,
and the blood spouted from the wound: in a few minutes he was far away,
and I was too much disappointed to follow him. All love of the chase
seemed to be dying away before these several mishaps. What were two
antelopes for one day's sport to the thousands that browsed over the
plain?
The animals taken to camp during our three days' sport were two
buffaloes, two wild boar, three hartebeest, one zebra, and one pallah;
besides which, were shot eight guinea-fowls, three florican, two
fish-eagles, one pelican, and one of the men caught a couple of large
silurus fish. In the meantime the people had cut, sliced, and dried
this bounteous store of meat for our transit through the long wilderness
before us.
Saturday the 7th day of October, we broke up camp, to the great regret
of the meat-loving, gormandizing Wangwana. They delegated Bombay early
in the morning to speak to me, and entreat of me to stop one day longer.
It was ever the case; they had always an unconquerable aversion to work,
when in presence of meat. Bombay was well scolded for bearing any such
request to me after two days' rest, during which time they had been
filled to repletion with meat. And Bombay was by no means in the best of
humour; flesh-pots full of meat were more to his taste than a constant
tramping, and its consequent fatigues. I saw his face settle into sulky
ugliness, and his great nether lip hanging down limp, which meant as if
expressed in so many words, "Well, get them to move yourself, you wicked
hard man! I shall not help you."
An ominous silence followed my order to the kirangozi to sound the
horn, and the usual singing and chanting were not heard. The men turned
sullenly to their bales, and Asmani, the gigantic guide, our fundi, was
heard grumblingly to say he was sorry he had engaged to guide me to the
Tanganika. However, they started, though reluctantly. I stayed behind
with my gunbearers, to drive the stragglers on. In about half an hour I
sighted the caravan at a dead stop, with the bales thrown on the ground,
and the men standing in groups conversing angrily and excitedly.
Taking my double-barrelled gun from Selim's shoulder, I selected a dozen
charges of buck-shot, and slipping two of them into the barrels, and
adjusting my revolvers in order for handy work, I walked on towards
them. I noticed that the men seized their guns, as I advanced. When
within thirty yards of the groups, I discovered the heads of two men
appear above an anthill on my left, with the barrels of their guns
carelessly pointed toward the road.
I halted, threw the barrel of my gun into the hollow of the left hand,
and then, taking a deliberate aim at them, threatened to blow their
heads off if they did not come forward to talk to me. These two men
were, gigantic Asmani and his sworn companion Mabruki, the guides of
Sheikh bin Nasib. As it was dangerous not to comply with such an order,
they presently came, but, keeping my eye on Asmani, I saw him move his
fingers to the trigger of his gun, and bring his gun to a "ready." Again
I lifted my gun, and threatened him with instant death, if he did not
drop his gun.
Asmani came on in a sidelong way with a smirking smile on his face, but
in his eyes shone the lurid light of murder, as plainly as ever it shone
in a villain's eyes. Mabruki sneaked to my rear, deliberately putting
powder in the pan of his musket, but sweeping the gun sharply round, I
planted the muzzle of it at about two feet from his wicked-looking face,
and ordered him to drop his gun instantly. He let it fall from his hand
quickly, and giving him a vigorous poke in the breast with my gun, which
sent him reeling away a few feet from me, I faced round to Asmani, and
ordered him to put his gun down, accompanying it with a nervous movement
of my gun, pressing gently on the trigger at the same time. Never was
a man nearer his death than was Asmani during those few moments. I was
reluctant to shed his blood, and I was willing to try all possible means
to avoid doing so; but if I did not succeed in cowing this ruffian,
authority was at an end. The truth was, they feared to proceed further
on the road, and the only possible way of inducing them to move was
by an overpowering force, and exercise of my power and will in this
instance, even though he might pay the penalty of his disobedience with
death. As I was beginning to feel that Asmani had passed his last moment
on earth, as he was lifting his gun to his shoulder, a form came up from
behind him, and swept his gun aside with an impatient, nervous movement,
and I heard Mabruki Burton say in horror-struck accents:
"Man, how dare you point your gun, at the master?" Mabruki then threw
himself at my feet, and endeavoured to kiss them and entreated me not
to punish him. "It was all over now," he said; "there would be no more
quarreling, they would all go as far as the Tanganika, without any more
noise; and Inshallah!" said he, "we shall find the old Musungu * at
Ujiji."
*Livingstone
"Speak, men, freedmen, shall we not?--shall we not go to the Tanganika
without any more trouble? tell the master with one voice."
"Ay Wallah! Ay Wallah! Bana yango! Hamuna manneno mgini!" which
literally translated means, "Yes by God! Yes by God! my master! There
are no other words," said each man loudly.
"Ask the master's pardon, man, or go thy way," said Mabruki
peremptorily, to Asmani: which Asmani did, to the gratification of us
all.
It remained for me only to extend a general pardon to all except to
Bombay and Ambari, the instigators of the mutiny, which was now happily
quelled. For Bombay could have by a word, as my captain, nipped all
manifestation of bad temper at the outset, had he been so disposed.
But no, Bombay was more averse to marching than the cowardliest of his
fellows, not because he was cowardly, but because he loved indolence.
Again the word was given to march, and each man, with astonishing
alacrity, seized his load, and filed off quickly out of sight.
While on this subject, I may as well give here a sketch of each of the
principal men whose names must often appear in the following chapters.
According to rank, they consist of Bombay, Mabruki Burton, Asmani the
guide, Chowpereh, Ulimengo, Khamisi, Ambari, Jumah, Ferajji the cook,
Maganga the Mnyamwezi, Selim the Arab boy, and youthful Kalulu a
gunbearer.
Bombay has received an excellent character from Burton and Speke.
"Incarnation of honesty" Burton grandly terms him. The truth is, Bombay
was neither very honest nor very dishonest, i.e., he did not venture
to steal much. He sometimes contrived cunningly, as he distributed the
meat, to hide a very large share for his own use. This peccadillo of his
did not disturb me much; he deserved as captain a larger share than the
others. He required to be closely watched, and when aware that this was
the case, he seldom ventured to appropriate more cloth than I would have
freely given him, had he asked for it. As a personal servant, or valet,
he would have been unexceptionable, but as a captain or jemadar over his
fellows, he was out of his proper sphere. It was too much brain-work,
and was too productive of anxiety to keep him in order. At times he was
helplessly imbecile in his movements, forgot every order the moment it
was given him, consistently broke or lost some valuable article, was
fond of argument, and addicted to bluster. He thinks Hajji Abdullah one
of the wickedest white men born, because he saw him pick up men's skulls
and put them in sacks, as if he was about to prepare a horrible medicine
with them. He wanted to know whether his former master had written down
all he himself did, and when told that Burton had not said anything,
in his books upon the Lake Regions, upon collecting skulls at Kilwa,
thought I would be doing a good work if I published this important
fact.
* Bombay intends to make a pilgrimage to visit Speke's grave
some day.
** I find upon returning to England, that Capt. Burton has
informed the world of this "wicked and abominable deed," in
his book upon Zanzibar, and that the interesting collection
may be seen at the Royal College of Surgeons, London.
Mabruki, "Ras-bukra Mabruki," Bull-headed Mabruki, as Burton calls
him, is a sadly abused man in my opinion. Mabruki, though stupid, is
faithful. He is entirely out of his element as valet, he might as well
be clerk. As a watchman he is invaluable, as a second captain or fundi,
whose duty it is to bring up stragglers, he is superexcellent. He is
ugly and vain, but he is no coward.
Asmani the guide is a large fellow, standing over six feet, with the
neck and shoulders of a Hercules. Besides being guide, he is a fundi,
sometimes called Fundi Asmani, or hunter. A very superstitious man, who
takes great care of his gun, and talismanic plaited cord, which he has
dipped in the blood of all the animals he has ever shot. He is afraid of
lions, and will never venture out where lions are known to be. All other
animals he regards as game, and is indefatigable in their pursuit. He is
seldom seen without an apologetic or a treacherous smile on his face. He
could draw a knife across a man's throat and still smile.
Chowpereh is a sturdy short man of thirty or thereabouts; very
good-natured, and humorous. When Chowpereh speaks in his dry Mark Twain
style, the whole camp laughs. I never quarrel with Chowpereh, never
did quarrel with him. A kind word given to Chowpereh is sure to be
reciprocated with a good deed. He is the strongest, the healthiest,
the amiablest, the faithfulest of all. He is the embodiment of a good
follower.
Khamisi is a neat, cleanly boy of twenty, or thereabouts, active,
loud-voiced, a boaster, and the cowardliest of the cowardly. He will
steal at every opportunity. He clings to his gun most affectionately; is
always excessively anxious if a screw gets loose, or if a flint will
not strike fire, yet I doubt that he would be able to fire his gun at an
enemy from excessive trembling. Khamisi would rather trust his safety to
his feet, which are small, and well shaped.
Ambari is a man of about forty. He is one of the "Faithfuls" of Speke,
and one of my Faithfuls. He would not run away from me except when in
the presence of an enemy, and imminent personal danger. He is clever
in his way, but is not sufficiently clever to enact the part of
captain--could take charge of a small party, and give a very good
account of them. Is lazy, and an admirer of good living--abhors
marching, unless he has nothing to carry but his gun.
Jumah is the best abused man of the party, because he has old-womanish
ways with him, yet in his old-womanish ways he is disposed to do the
best he can for me, though he will not carry a pound in weight without
groaning terribly at his hard fate. To me he is sentimental and
pathetic; to the unimportant members of the caravan he is stern and
uncompromising. But the truth is, that I could well dispense with
Jumah's presence: he was one of the incorrigible inutiles, eating far
more than he was worth; besides being an excessively grumbling and
querulous fool.
Ulimengo, a strong stalwart fellow of thirty, was the maddest and most
hare-brained of my party. Though an arrant coward, he was a consummate
boaster. But though a devotee of pleasure and fun, he was not averse
from work. With one hundred men such as he, I could travel through
Africa provided there was no fighting to do. It will be remembered that
he was the martial coryphaeus who led my little army to war against
Mirambo, chanting the battle-song of the Wangwana; and that I stated,
that when the retreat was determined upon, he was the first of my party
to reach the stronghold of Mfuto. He is a swift runner, and a fair
hunter. I have been indebted to him on several occasions for a welcome
addition to my larder.
Ferajji, a former dish-washer to Speke, was my cook. He was promoted
to this office upon the defection of Bunder Salaam, and the extreme
non-fitness of Abdul Kader. For cleaning dishes, the first corn-cob,
green twig, a bunch of leaves or grass, answered Ferajji's purposes in
the absence of a cloth. If I ordered a plate, and I pointed out a
black, greasy, sooty thumbmark to him, a rub of a finger Ferajji thought
sufficient to remove all objections. If I hinted that a spoon was rather
dirty, Ferajji fancied that with a little saliva, and a rub of his loin
cloth, the most fastidious ought to be satisfied. Every pound of meat,
and every three spoonfuls of musk or porridge I ate in Africa, contained
at least ten grains of sand. Ferajji was considerably exercised at a
threat I made to him that on arrival at Zanzibar, I would get the great
English doctor there to open my stomach, and count every grain of sand
found in it, for each grain of which Ferajji should be charged one
dollar. The consciousness that my stomach must contain a large number,
for which the forfeits would be heavy, made him feel very sad at
times. Otherwise, Ferajji was a good cook, most industrious, if not
accomplished. He could produce a cup of tea, and three or four hot
pancakes, within ten minutes after a halt was ordered, for which I was
most grateful, as I was almost always hungry after a long march. Ferajji
sided with Baraka against Bombay in Unyoro, and when Speke took Bombay's
side of the question, Ferajji, out of love for Baraka, left Speke's
service, and so forfeited his pay.
Maganga was a Mnyamwezi, a native of Mkwenkwe, a strong, faithful
servant, an excellent pagazi, with an irreproachable temper. He it was
who at all times, on the march, started the wildly exuberant song of the
Wanyamwezi porters, which, no matter how hot the sun, or how long the
march, was sure to produce gaiety and animation among the people. At
such times all hands sang, sang with voices that could be heard miles
away, which made the great forests ring with the sounds, which startled
every animal big or little, for miles around. On approaching a village
the temper of whose people might be hostile to us, Maganga would
commence his song, with the entire party joining in the chorus, by
which mode we knew whether the natives were disposed to be friendly or
hostile. If hostile, or timid, the gates would at once be closed, and
dark faces would scowl at us from the interior; if friendly, they rushed
outside of their gates to welcome us, or to exchange friendly remarks.
An important member of the Expedition was Selim, the young Arab. Without
some one who spoke good Arabic, I could not have obtained the friendship
of the chief Arabs in Unyanyembe; neither could I have well communicated
with them, for though I understood Arabic, I could not speak it.
I have already related how Kalulu came to be in my service, and how he
came to bear his present name. I soon found how apt and quick he was to
learn, in consequence of which, he was promoted to the rank of personal
attendant. Even Selim could not vie with Kalulu in promptness and
celerity, or in guessing my wants at the table. His little black eyes
were constantly roving over the dishes, studying out the problem of what
was further necessary, or had become unnecessary.
We arrived at the Ziwani, in about 4 h. 30 m. from the time of our
quitting the scene which had well-nigh witnessed a sanguinary conflict.
The Ziwani, or pool, contained no water, not a drop, until the parched
tongues of my people warned them that they must proceed and excavate
for water. This excavation was performed (by means of strong hard sticks
sharply pointed) in the dry hard-caked bottom. After digging to a depth
of six feet their labours were rewarded with the sight of a few drops of
muddy liquid percolating through the sides, which were eagerly swallowed
to relieve their raging thirst. Some voluntarily started with buckets,
gourds, and canteens south to a deserted clearing called the "Tongoni"
in Ukamba, and in about three hours returned with a plentiful supply for
immediate use, of good and clear water.
In 1 h. 30 m. we arrived at this Tongoni, or deserted clearing of
the Wakamba. Here were three or four villages burnt, and an extensive
clearing desolate, the work of the Wa-Ruga-Raga of Mirambo. Those of the
inhabitants who were left, after the spoliation and complete destruction
of the flourishing settlement, emigrated westerly to Ugara. A large
herd of buffalo now slake their thirst at the pool which supplied the
villages of Ukamba with water.
Great masses of iron haematite cropped up above the surfaces in these
forests. Wild fruit began to be abundant; the wood-apple and tamarind
and a small plum-like fruit, furnished us with many an agreeable repast.
The honey-bird is very frequent in these forests of Ukonongo. Its cry is
a loud, quick chirrup. The Wakonongo understand how to avail themselves
of its guidance to the sweet treasure of honey which the wild bees have
stored in the cleft of some great tree. Daily, the Wakonongo who had
joined our caravan brought me immense cakes of honey-comb, containing
delicious white and red honey. The red honey-comb generally contains
large numbers of dead bees, but our exceedingly gluttonous people
thought little of these. They not only ate the honey-bees, but they also
ate a good deal of the wax.
As soon as the honey-bird descries the traveller, he immediately utters
a series of wild, excited cries, hops about from twig to twig, and from
branch to branch, then hops to another tree, incessantly repeating his
chirruping call. The native, understanding the nature of the little
bird, unhesitatingly follows him; but perhaps his steps are too slow for
the impatient caller, upon which he flies back, urging him louder, more
impatient cries, to hasten, and then darts swiftly forward, as if he
would show how quickly he could go to the honey-store, until at last the
treasure is reached, the native has applied fire to the bees' nest, and
secured the honey, while the little bird preens himself, and chirrups in
triumphant notes, as if he were informing the biped that without his aid
he never could have found the honey.
Buffalo gnats and tsetse were very troublesome on this march, owing to
the numerous herds of game in the vicinity.
On the 9th of October we made a long march in a southerly direction, and
formed our camp in the centre of a splendid grove of trees. The water
was very scarce on the road. The Wamrima and Wanyamwezi are not long
able to withstand thirst. When water is plentiful they slake their
thirst at every stream and pool; when it is scarce, as it is here and
in the deserts of Marenga and Magunda Mkali, long afternoon-marches are
made; the men previously, however, filling their gourds, so as to enable
them to reach the water early next morning. Selim was never able to
endure thirst. It mattered not how much of the precious liquid he
carried, he generally drank it all before reaching camp, and he
consequently suffered during the night. Besides this, he endangered
his life by quaffing from every muddy pool; and on this day he began to
complain that he discharged blood, which I took to be an incipient stage
of dysentery.
During these marches, ever since quitting Ugunda, a favourite topic
at the camp-fires were the Wa-Ruga-Ruga, and their atrocities, and a
possible encounter that we might have with these bold rovers of
the forest. I verily believe that a sudden onset of half a dozen of
Mirambo's people would have set the whole caravan arunning.
We reached Marefu the next day, after a short three hours' march. We
there found an embassy sent by the Arabs of Unyanyembe, to the Southern
Watuta, bearing presents of several bales, in charge of Hassan the
Mseguhha. This valiant leader and diplomatist had halted here some ten
days because of wars and rumours of wars in his front. It was said that
Mbogo, Sultan of Mboga in Ukonongo, was at war with the brother of Manwa
Sera, and as Mbogo was a large district of Ukonongo only two days' march
from Marefu; fear of being involved in it was deterring old Hassan from
proceeding. He advised me also not to proceed, as it was impossible to
be able to do so without being embroiled in the conflict. I informed
him that I intended to proceed on my way, and take my chances, and
graciously offered him my escort as far as the frontier of Ufipa, from
which he could easily and safely continue on his way to the Watuta, but
he declined it.
We had now been travelling fourteen days in a south-westerly direction,
having made a little more than one degree of latitude. I had intended to
have gone a little further south, because it was such a good road, also
since by going further south we should have labored under no fear of
meeting Mirambo; but the report of this war in our front, only two days
off, compelled me, in the interest of the Expedition, to strike across
towards the Tanganika, an a west-by-north course through the forest,
travelling, when it was advantageous, along elephant tracks and local
paths. This new plan was adopted after consulting with Asmani, the
guide. We were now in Ukonongo, having entered this district when
we crossed the Gombe creek. The next day after arriving at Marefu we
plunged westward, in view of the villagers, and the Arab ambassador,
who kept repeating until the last moment that we should "certainly catch
it."
We marched eight hours through a forest, where the forest peach, or the
"mbembu," is abundant. The tree that bears this fruit is very like
a pear-tree, and is very productive. I saw one tree, upon which I
estimated there were at least six or seven bushels. I ate numbers of the
peaches on this day. So long as this fruit can be produced, a traveller
in these regions need not fear starvation.
At the base of a graceful hilly cone we found a village called Utende,
the inhabitants of which were in a state of great alarm, as we suddenly
appeared on the ridge above them. Diplomacy urged me to send forward a
present of one doti to the Sultan, who, however, would not accept it,
because he happened to be drunk with pombe, and was therefore disposed
to be insolent. Upon being informed that he would refuse any present,
unless he received four more cloths, I immediately ordered a strong
boma to be constructed on the summits of a little hill, near enough to
a plentiful supply of water, and quietly again packed up the present in
the bale. I occupied a strategically chosen position, as I could have
swept the face of the hill, and the entire space between its base and
the village of Watende. Watchmen were kept on the look-out all
night; but we were fortunately not troubled until the morning; when
a delegation of the principal men came to ask if I intended to depart
without having made a present to the chief. I replied to them that I did
not intend passing through any country without making friends with the
chief; and if their chief would accept a good cloth from me, I would
freely give it to him. Though they demurred at the amount of the present
at first, the difference between us was finally ended by my adding a
fundo of red beads--sami-sami--for the chief's wife.
From the hill and ridge of Utende sloped a forest for miles and miles
westerly, which was terminated by a grand and smooth-topped ridge rising
500 or 600 feet above the plain.
A four hours' march, on the 12th of October, brought us to a nullah
similar to the Gombe, which, during the wet season, flows to the Gombe
River, and thence into the Malagarazi River.
A little before camping we saw a herd of nimba, or pallah; I had the
good fortune to shoot one, which was a welcome addition to our fast
diminishing store of dried meats, prepared in our camp on the Gombe. By
the quantity of bois de vaches, we judged buffaloes were plentiful here,
as well as elephant and rhinoceros. The feathered species were well
represented by ibis, fish-eagles, pelicans, storks, cranes, several
snowy spoon-bills, and flamingoes.
From the nullah, or mtoni, we proceeded to Mwaru, the principal village
of the district of Mwaru, the chief of which is Ka-mirambo. Our march
lay over desolated clearings once occupied by Ka-mirambo's people, but
who were driven away by Mkasiwa some ten years ago, during his warfare
against Manwa Sera. Niongo, the brother of the latter, now waging war
against Mbogo, had passed through Mwaru the day before we arrived, after
being defeated by his enemy.
The hilly ridge that bounded the westward horizon, visible from Utende,
was surmounted on this day. The western slope trends south-west, and is
drained by the River Mrera, which empties into the Malagarazi River. We
perceived the influence of the Tanganika, even here, though we were
yet twelve or fifteen marches from the lake. The jungles increased in
density, and the grasses became enormously tall; these points reminded
us of the maritime districts of Ukwere and Ukami.
We heard from a caravan at this place, just come from Ufipa, that
a white man was reported to be in "Urua," whom I supposed to mean
Livingstone.
Upon leaving Mwaru we entered the district of Mrera, a chief who once
possessed great power and influence over this region. Wars, however,
have limited his possessions to three or four villages snugly embosomed
within a jungle, whose outer rim is so dense that it serves like a stone
wall to repel invaders. There were nine bleached skulls, stuck on the
top of as many poles, before the principal gate of entrance, which told
us of existing feuds between the Wakonongo and the Wazavira. This latter
tribe dwelt in a country a few marches west of us; whose territory
we should have to avoid, unless we sought another opportunity to
distinguish ourselves in battle with the natives. The Wazavira, we were
told by the Wakonongo of Mrera, were enemies to all Wangwana.
In a narrow strip of marsh between Mwaru and Mrera, we saw a small herd
of wild elephants. It was the first time I had ever seen these animals
in their native wildness, and my first impressions of them I shall not
readily forget. I am induced to think that the elephant deserves the
title of "king of beasts." His huge form, the lordly way in which he
stares at an intruder on his domain, and his whole appearance indicative
of conscious might, afford good grounds for his claim to that title.
This herd, as we passed it at the distance of a mile, stopped to survey
the caravan as it passed: and, after having satisfied their curiosity,
the elephants trooped into the forest which bounded the marshy plain
southward, as if caravans were every-day things to them, whilst
they--the free and unconquerable lords of the forest and the marsh--had
nothing in common with the cowardly bipeds, who never found courage to
face them in fair combat. The destruction which a herd makes in a forest
is simply tremendous. When the trees are young whole swathes may be
found uprooted and prostrate, which mark the track of the elephants as
they "trampled their path through wood and brake."
The boy Selim was so ill at this place that I was compelled to halt the
caravan for him for two days. He seemed to be affected with a disease
in the limbs, which caused him to sprawl, and tremble most painfully,
besides suffering from an attack of acute dysentery. But constant
attendance and care soon brought him round again; and on the third day
he was able to endure the fatigue of riding.
I was able to shoot several animals during our stay at Mrera. The forest
outside of the cultivation teems with noble animals. Zebra, giraffe,
elephant, and rhinoceros are most common; ptarmigan and guinea-fowl were
also plentiful.
The warriors of Mrera are almost all armed with muskets, of which they
take great care. They were very importunate in their demands for flints,
bullets, and powder, which I always made it a point to refuse, lest
at any moment a fracas occurring they might use the ammunition thus
supplied to my own disadvantage. The men of this village were an idle
set, doing little but hunting, gaping, gossiping, and playing like great
boys. During the interval of my stay at Mrera I employed a large portion
of my time in mending my shoes, and patching up the great rents in my
clothes, which the thorn species, during the late marches, had almost
destroyed. Westward, beyond Mrera, was a wilderness, the transit of
which we were warned would occupy nine days hence arose the necessity
to purchase a large supply of grain, which, ere attempting the great
uninhabited void in our front, was to be ground and sifted.