CHAPTER XII. -- INTERCOURSE WITH LIVINGSTONE AT UJIJI--LIVINGSTONE'S OWN

STORY OF HIS JOURNEYS, HIS TROUBLES, AND DISAPPOINTMENTS.

"If there is love between us, inconceivably delicious, and

profitable will our intercourse be; if not, your time is lost,

and you will only annoy me. I shall seem to you stupid, and the

reputation I have false. All my good is magnetic, and I educate

not by lessons, but by going about my business."--Emerson's

'Representative Men'.

I woke up early next morning with a sudden start. The room was

strange! It was a house, and not my tent! Ah, yes! I recollected

I had discovered Livingstone, and I was in his house. I listened,

that the knowledge dawning on me might be confirmed by the sound

of his voice. I heard nothing but the sullen roar of the surf.

I lay quietly in bed. Bed! Yes, it was a primitive four-poster,

with the leaves of the palm-tree spread upon it instead of down,

and horsehair and my bearskin spread over this serving me in place

of linen. I began to put myself under rigid mental cross-examination,

and to an analyzation of my position.

"What was I sent for?"

"To find Livingstone."

"Have you found him?"

"Yes, of course; am I not in his house? Whose compass is that hanging

on a peg there? Whose clothes, whose boots, are those? Who reads those

newspapers, those 'Saturday Reviews' and numbers of 'Punch' lying on the

floor?"

"Well, what are you going to do now?"

"I shall tell him this morning who sent me, and what brought me here.

I will then ask him to write a letter to Mr. Bennett, and to give

what news he can spare. I did not come here to rob him of his news.

Sufficient for me is it that I have found him. It is a complete success

so far. But it will be a greater one if he gives me letters for Mr.

Bennett, and an acknowledgment that he has seen me."

"Do you think he will do so?"

"Why not? I have come here to do him a service. He has no goods. I have.

He has no men with him. I have. If I do a friendly part by him, will he

not do a friendly part by me? What says the poet?--

Nor hope to find

A friend, but who has found a friend in thee.

All like the purchase; few the price will pay

And this makes friends such wonders here below.

I have paid the purchase, by coming so far to do him a service. But I

think, from what I have seen of him last night, that he is not such

a niggard and misanthrope as I was led to believe. He exhibited

considerable emotion, despite the monosyllabic greeting, when he shook

my hand. If he were a man to feel annoyance at any person coming after

him, he would not have received me as he did, nor would he ask me to

live with him, but he would have surlily refused to see me, and told

me to mind my own business. Neither does he mind my nationality; for

'here,' said he, 'Americans and Englishmen are the same people. We speak

the same language and have the same ideas.' Just so, Doctor; I agree

with you. Here at least, Americans and Englishmen shall be brothers,

and, whatever I can do for you, you may command me freely."

I dressed myself quietly, intending to take a stroll along the Tanganika

before the Doctor should rise; opened the door, which creaked horribly

on its hinges, and walked out to the veranda.

"Halloa, Doctor!--you up already? I hope you have slept well?"

"Good-morning, Mr. Stanley! I am glad to see you. I hope you rested

well. I sat up late reading my letters. You have brought me good and bad

news. But sit down." He made a place for me by his side. "Yes, many of

my friends are dead. My eldest son has met with a sad accident--that is,

my boy Tom; my second son, Oswell, is at college studying medicine, and

is doing well I am told. Agnes, my eldest daughter, has been enjoying

herself in a yacht, with 'Sir Paraffine' Young and his family. Sir

Roderick, also, is well, and expresses a hope that he will soon see me.

You have brought me quite a budget."

The man was not an apparition, then, and yesterday's scenes were not the

result of a dream! and I gazed on him intently, for thus I was assured

he had not run away, which was the great fear that constantly haunted me

as I was journeying to Ujiji.

"Now, Doctor," said I, "you are, probably, wondering why I came here?"

"It is true," said he; "I have been wondering. I thought you, at first,

an emissary of the French Government, in the place of Lieutenant Le

Saint, who died a few miles above Gondokoro. I heard you had boats,

plenty of men, and stores, and I really believed you were some French

officer, until I saw the American flag; and, to tell you the truth, I

was rather glad it was so, because I could not have talked to him in

French; and if he did not know English, we had been a pretty pair of

white men in Ujiji! I did not like to ask you yesterday, because I

thought it was none of my business."

"Well," said I, laughing, "for your sake I am glad that I am an American,

and not a Frenchman, and that we can understand each other perfectly

without an interpreter. I see that the Arabs are wondering that you, an

Englishman, and I, an American, understand each other. We must take care

not to tell them that the English and Americans have fought, and that

there are 'Alabama' claims left unsettled, and that we have such people

as Fenians in America, who hate you. But, seriously, Doctor--now don't

be frightened when I tell you that I have come after--YOU!"

"After me?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"Well. You have heard of the 'New York Herald?'"

"Oh--who has not heard of that newspaper?"

"Without his father's knowledge or consent, Mr. James Gordon Bennett,

son of Mr. James Gordon Bennett, the proprietor of the 'Herald,' has

commissioned me to find you--to get whatever news of your discoveries

you like to give--and to assist you, if I can, with means."

"Young Mr. Bennett told you to come after me, to find me out, and help

me! It is no wonder, then, you praised Mr. Bennett so much last night."

"I know him--I am proud to say--to be just what I say he is. He is an

ardent, generous, and true man."

"Well, indeed! I am very much obliged to him; and it makes me feel proud

to think that you Americans think so much of me. You have just come in

the proper time; for I was beginning to think that I should have to beg

from the Arabs. Even they are in want of cloth, and there are but few

beads in Ujiji. That fellow Sherif has robbed me of all. I wish I could

embody my thanks to Mr. Bennett in suitable words; but if I fail to do

so, do not, I beg of you, believe me the less grateful."

"And now, Doctor, having disposed of this little affair, Ferajji shall

bring breakfast; if you have no objection."

"You have given me an appetite," he said.

"Halimah is my cook, but she never can tell the difference between tea

and coffee."

Ferajji, the cook, was ready as usual with excellent tea, and a dish of

smoking cakes; "dampers," as the Doctor called them. I never did care

much for this kind of a cake fried in a pan, but they were necessary

to the Doctor, who had nearly lost all his teeth from the hard fare of

Lunda. He had been compelled to subsist on green ears of Indian corn;

there was no meat in that district; and the effort to gnaw at the

corn ears had loosened all his teeth. I preferred the corn scones of

Virginia, which, to my mind, were the nearest approach to palatable

bread obtainable in Central Africa.

The Doctor said he had thought me a most luxurious and rich man, when he

saw my great bath-tub carried on the shoulders of one of my men; but he

thought me still more luxurious this morning, when my knives and forks,

and plates, and cups, saucers, silver spoons, and silver teapot were

brought forth shining and bright, spread on a rich Persian carpet, and

observed that I was well attended to by my yellow and ebon Mercuries.

This was the beginning of our life at Ujiji. I knew him not as a friend

before my arrival. He was only an object to me--a great item for a daily

newspaper, as much as other subjects in which the voracious news-loving

public delight in. I had gone over battlefields, witnessed revolutions,

civil wars, rebellions, emeutes and massacres; stood close to the

condemned murderer to record his last struggles and last sighs; but

never had I been called to record anything that moved me so much as this

man's woes and sufferings, his privations and disappointments, which now

were poured into my ear. Verily did I begin to perceive that "the Gods

above do with just eyes survey the affairs of men." I began to recognize

the hand of an overruling and kindly Providence.

The following are singular facts worthy for reflection. I was,

commissioned for the duty of discovering Livingstone sometime in

October, 1869. Mr. Bennett was ready with the money, and I was ready for

the journey. But, observe, reader, that I did not proceed directly upon

the search mission. I had many tasks to fulfil before proceeding with

it, and many thousand miles to travel over. Supposing that I had

gone direct to Zanzibar from Paris, seven or eight months afterwards,

perhaps, I should have found myself at Ujiji, but Livingstone would not

have been found there then; he was on the Lualaba; and I should have

had to follow him on his devious tracks through the primeval forests of

Manyuema, and up along the crooked course of the Lualaba for hundreds

of miles. The time taken by me in travelling up the Nile, back to

Jerusalem, then to Constantinople, Southern Russia, the Caucasus, and

Persia, was employed by Livingstone in fruitful discoveries west of the

Tanganika. Again, consider that I arrived at Unyanyembe in the latter

part of June, and that owing to a war I was delayed three months at

Unyanyembe, leading a fretful, peevish and impatient life. But while I

was thus fretting myself, and being delayed by a series of accidents,

Livingstone was being forced back to Ujiji in the same month. It took

him from June to October to march to Ujiji. Now, in September, I broke

loose from the thraldom which accident had imposed on me, and hurried

southward to Ukonongo, then westward to Kawendi, then northward to

Uvinza, then westward to Ujiji, only about three weeks after the

Doctor's arrival, to find him resting under the veranda of his house

with his face turned eastward, the direction from which I was coming.

Had I gone direct from Paris on the search I might have lost him; had I

been enabled to have gone direct to Ujiji from Unyanyembe I might have

lost him.

The days came and went peacefully and happily, under the palms of Ujiji.

My companion was improving in health and spirits. Life had been brought

back to him; his fading vitality was restored, his enthusiasm for his

work was growing up again into a height that was compelling him to

desire to be up and doing. But what could he do, with five men and

fifteen or twenty cloths?

"Have you seen the northern head of the Tangannka, Doctor?" I asked one

day.

"No; I did try to go there, but the Wajiji were doing their best to

fleece me, as they did both Burton and Speke, and I had not a great deal

of cloth. If I had gone to the head of the Tanganika, I could not have

gone, to Manyuema. The central line of drainage was the most important,

and that is the Lualaba. Before this line the question whether there

is a connection between the Tanganika and the Albert N'Yanza sinks into

insignificance. The great line of drainage is the river flowing from

latitude 11 degrees south, which I followed for over seven degrees

northward. The Chambezi, the name given to its most southern extremity,

drains a large tract of country south of the southernmost source of the

Tanganika; it must, therefore, be the most important. I have not the

least doubt, myself, but that this lake is the Upper Tanganika, and the

Albert N'Yanza of Baker is the Lower Tanganika, which are connected by a

river flowing from the upper to the lower. This is my belief, based upon

reports of the Arabs, and a test I made of the flow with water-plants.

But I really never gave it much thought."

"Well, if I were you, Doctor, before leaving Ujiji, I should explore it,

and resolve the doubts upon the subject; lest, after you leave here,

you should not return by this way. The Royal Geographical Society attach

much importance to this supposed connection, and declare you are the

only man who can settle it. If I can be of any service to you, you may

command me. Though I did not come to Africa as an explorer, I have

a good deal of curiosity upon the subject, and should be willing to

accompany you. I have with me about twenty men who understand rowing we

have plenty of guns, cloth, and beads; and if we can get a canoe from

the Arabs we can manage the thing easily."

"Oh, we can get a canoe from Sayd bin Majid. This man has been very kind

to me, and if ever there was an Arab gentleman, he is one."

"Then it is settled, is it, that we go?"

"I am ready, whenever you are."

"I am at your command. Don't you hear my men call you the 'Great

Master,' and me the 'Little Master?' It would never do for the 'Little

Master' to command."

By this time Livingstone was becoming known to me. I defy any one to be

in his society long without thoroughly fathoming him, for in him there

is no guile, and what is apparent on the surface is the thing that is in

him. I simply write down my own opinion of the man as I have seen him,

not as he represents himself; as I know him to be, not as I have heard

of him. I lived with him from the 10th November, 1871, to the 14th

March, 1872; witnessed his conduct in the camp, and on the march, and

my feelings for him are those of unqualified admiration. The camp is the

best place to discover a man's weaknesses, where, if he is flighty or

wrong-headed, he is sure to develop his hobbies and weak side. I think

it possible, however, that Livingstone, with an unsuitable companion,

might feel annoyance. I know I should do so very readily, if a man's

character was of that oblique nature that it was an impossibility to

travel in his company. I have seen men, in whose company I felt nothing

but a thraldom, which it was a duty to my own self-respect to cast off

as soon as possible; a feeling of utter incompatibility, with whose

nature mine could never assimilate. But Livingstone was a character that

I venerated, that called forth all my enthusiasm, that evoked nothing

but sincerest admiration.

Dr. Livingstone is about sixty years old, though after he was restored

to health he appeared more like a man who had not passed his fiftieth

year. His hair has a brownish colour yet, but is here and there streaked

with grey lines over the temples; his whiskers and moustache are

very grey. He shaves his chin daily. His eyes, which are hazel, are

remarkably bright; he has a sight keen as a hawk's. His teeth alone

indicate the weakness of age; the hard fare of Lunda has made havoc in

their lines. His form, which soon assumed a stoutish appearance, is a

little over the ordinary height with the slightest possible bow in the

shoulders. When walking he has a firm but heavy tread, like that of an

overworked or fatigued man. He is accustomed to wear a naval cap with

a semicircular peak, by which he has been identified throughout Africa.

His dress, when first I saw him, exhibited traces of patching and

repairing, but was scrupulously clean.

I was led to believe that Livingstone possessed a splenetic,

misanthropic temper; some have said that he is garrulous, that he is

demented; that he has utterly changed from the David Livingstone whom

people knew as the reverend missionary; that he takes no notes or

observations but such as those which no other person could read but

himself; and it was reported, before I proceeded to Central Africa, that

he was married to an African princess.

I respectfully beg to differ with all and each of the above statements.

I grant he is not an angel, but he approaches to that being as near

as the nature of a living man will allow. I never saw any spleen or

misanthropy in him--as for being garrulous, Dr. Livingstone is quite

the reverse: he is reserved, if anything; and to the man who says Dr.

Livingstone is changed, all I can say is, that he never could have known

him, for it is notorious that the Doctor has a fund of quiet humour,

which he exhibits at all times whenever he is among friends. I must

also beg leave to correct the gentleman who informed me that Livingstone

takes no notes or observations. The huge Letts's Diary which I carried

home to his daughter is full of notes, and there are no less than a

score of sheets within it filled with observations which he took during

the last trip he made to Manyuema alone; and in the middle of the book

there is sheet after sheet, column after column, carefully written, of

figures alone. A large letter which I received from him has been sent to

Sir Thomas MacLear, and this contains nothing but observations. During

the four months I was with him, I noticed him every evening making most

careful notes; and a large tin box that he has with him contains numbers

of field note-books, the contents of which I dare say will see the

light some time. His maps also evince great care and industry. As to the

report of his African marriage, it is unnecessary to say more than that

it is untrue, and it is utterly beneath a gentleman to hint at such a

thing in connection with the name of David Livingstone.

There is a good-natured abandon about Livingstone which was not lost

on me. Whenever he began to laugh, there was a contagion about it,

that compelled me to imitate him. It was such a laugh as Herr

Teufelsdrockh's--a laugh of the whole man from head to heel. If he

told a story, he related it in such a way as to convince one of its

truthfulness; his face was so lit up by the sly fun it contained, that I

was sure the story was worth relating, and worth listening to.

The wan features which had shocked me at first meeting, the heavy step

which told of age and hard travel, the grey beard and bowed shoulders,

belied the man. Underneath that well-worn exterior lay an endless fund

of high spirits and inexhaustible humour; that rugged frame of his

enclosed a young and most exuberant soul. Every day I heard innumerable

jokes and pleasant anecdotes; interesting hunting stories, in which his

friends Oswell, Webb, Vardon, and Gorden Cumming were almost always the

chief actors. I was not sure, at first, but this joviality, humour, and

abundant animal spirits were the result of a joyous hysteria; but as I

found they continued while I was with him, I am obliged to think them

natural.

Another thing which specially attracted my attention was his wonderfully

retentive memory. If we remember the many years he has spent in Africa,

deprived of books, we may well think it an uncommon memory that can

recite whole poems from Byron, Burns, Tennyson, Longfellow, Whittier,

and Lowell. The reason of this may be found, perhaps, in the fact, that

he has lived all his life almost, we may say, within himself. Zimmerman,

a great student of human nature, says on this subject "The unencumbered

mind recalls all that it has read, all that pleased the eye,

and delighted the ear; and reflecting on every idea which either

observation, or experience, or discourse has produced, gains new

information by every reflection. The intellect contemplates all the

former scenes of life; views by anticipation those that are yet to come;

and blends all ideas of past and future in the actual enjoyment of the

present moment." He has lived in a world which revolved inwardly, out

of which he seldom awoke except to attend to the immediate practical

necessities of himself and people; then relapsed again into the same

happy inner world, which he must have peopled with his own friends,

relations, acquaintances, familiar readings, ideas, and associations; so

that wherever he might be, or by whatsoever he was surrounded, his own

world always possessed more attractions to his cultured mind than were

yielded by external circumstances.

The study of Dr. Livingstone would not be complete if we did not take

the religious side of his character into consideration. His religion

is not of the theoretical kind, but it is a constant, earnest, sincere

practice. It is neither demonstrative nor loud, but manifests itself

in a quiet, practical way, and is always at work. It is not aggressive,

which sometimes is troublesome, if not impertinent. In him, religion

exhibits its loveliest features; it governs his conduct not only towards

his servants, but towards the natives, the bigoted Mohammedans, and all

who come in contact with him. Without it, Livingstone, with his ardent

temperament, his enthusiasm, his high spirit and courage, must have

become uncompanionable, and a hard master. Religion has tamed him, and

made him a Christian gentleman: the crude and wilful have been refined

and subdued; religion has made him the most companionable of men and

indulgent of masters--a man whose society is pleasurable.

In Livingstone I have seen many amiable traits. His gentleness never

forsakes him; his hopefulness never deserts him. No harassing anxieties,

distraction of mind, long separation from home and kindred, can make him

complain. He thinks "all will come out right at last;" he has such faith

in the goodness of Providence. The sport of adverse circumstances, the

plaything of the miserable beings sent to him from Zanzibar--he has been

baffled and worried, even almost to the grave, yet he will not desert

the charge imposed upon him by his friend, Sir Roderick Murchison. To

the stern dictates of duty, alone, has he sacrificed his home and ease,

the pleasures, refinements, and luxuries of civilized life. His is the

Spartan heroism, the inflexibility of the Roman, the enduring resolution

of the Anglo-Saxon--never to relinquish his work, though his heart

yearns for home; never to surrender his obligations until he can write

Finis to his work.

But you may take any point in Dr. Livingstone's character, and analyse

it carefully, and I would challenge any man to find a fault in it. He is

sensitive, I know; but so is any man of a high mind and generous nature.

He is sensitive on the point of being doubted or being criticised. An

extreme love of truth is one of his strongest characteristics, which

proves him to be a man of strictest principles, and conscientious

scruples; being such, he is naturally sensitive, and shrinks from any

attacks on the integrity of his observations, and the accuracy of his

reports. He is conscious of having laboured in the course of geography

and science with zeal and industry, to have been painstaking, and as

exact as circumstances would allow. Ordinary critics seldom take into

consideration circumstances, but, utterly regardless of the labor

expended in obtaining the least amount of geographical information in a

new land, environed by inconceivable dangers and difficulties, such

as Central Africa presents, they seem to take delight in rending to

tatters, and reducing to nil, the fruits of long years of labor, by

sharply-pointed shafts of ridicule and sneers.

Livingstone no doubt may be mistaken in some of his conclusions about

certain points in the geography of Central Africa, but he is not so

dogmatic and positive a man as to refuse conviction. He certainly

demands, when arguments in contra are used in opposition to him, higher

authority than abstract theory. His whole life is a testimony against

its unreliability, and his entire labor of years were in vain if theory

can be taken in evidence against personal observation and patient

investigation.

The reluctance he manifests to entertain suppositions, possibilities

regarding the nature, form, configuration of concrete immutable matter

like the earth, arises from the fact, that a man who commits himself

to theories about such an untheoretical subject as Central Africa

is deterred from bestirring himself to prove them by the test of

exploration. His opinion of such a man is, that he unfits himself

for his duty, that he is very likely to become a slave to theory--a

voluptuous fancy, which would master him.

It is his firm belief, that a man who rests his sole knowledge of the

geography of Africa on theory, deserves to be discredited. It has been

the fear of being discredited and criticised and so made to appear

before the world as a man who spent so many valuable years in Africa

for the sake of burdening the geographical mind with theory that has

detained him so long in Africa, doing his utmost to test the value of

the main theory which clung to him, and would cling to him until he

proved or disproved it.

This main theory is his belief that in the broad and mighty Lualaba he

has discovered the head waters of the Nile. His grounds for believing

this are of such nature and weight as to compel him to despise

the warning that years are advancing on him, and his former iron

constitution is failing. He believes his speculations on this point will

be verified; he believes he is strong enough to pursue his explorations

until he can return to his country, with the announcement that the

Lualaba is none other than the Nile.

On discovering that the insignificant stream called the Chambezi, which

rises between 10 degrees S. and 12 degrees S., flowed westerly, and then

northerly through several lakes, now under the names of the Chambezi,

then as the Luapula, and then as the Lualaba, and that it still

continued its flow towards the north for over 7 degrees, Livingstone

became firmly of the opinion that the river whose current he followed

was the Egyptian Nile. Failing at lat. 4 degrees S. to pursue his

explorations further without additional supplies, he determined to

return to Ujiji to obtain them.

And now, having obtained them, he intends to return to the point where

he left off work. He means to follow that great river until it is firmly

established what name shall eventually be given the noble water-way

whose course he has followed through so many sick toilings and

difficulties. To all entreaties to come home, to all the glowing

temptations which home and innumerable friends offer, he returns the

determined answer:--

"No; not until my work is ended."

I have often heard our servants discuss our respective merits. "Your

master," say my servants to Livingstone's, "is a good man--a very good

man; he does not beat you, for he has a kind heart; but ours--oh! he

is sharp--hot as fire"--"mkali sana, kana moto." From being hated and

thwarted in every possible way by the Arabs and half-castes upon

first arrival in Ujiji, he has, through his uniform kindness and mild,

pleasant temper, won all hearts. I observed that universal respect was

paid to him. Even the Mohammedans never passed his house without calling

to pay their compliments, and to say, "The blessing of God rest on you."

Each Sunday morning he gathers his little flock around him, and reads

prayers and a chapter from the Bible, in a natural, unaffected, and

sincere tone; and afterwards delivers a short address in the Kisawahili

language, about the subject read to them, which is listened to with

interest and attention.

There is another point in Livingstone's character about which readers of

his books, and students of his travels, would like to know, and that is

his ability to withstand the dreadful climate of Central Africa, and

the consistent energy with which he follows up his explorations. His

consistent energy is native to him and to his race. He is a very fine

example of the perseverance, doggedness, and tenacity which characterise

the Anglo-Saxon spirit; but his ability to withstand the climate is due

not only to the happy constitution with which he was born, but to the

strictly temperate life he has ever led. A drunkard and a man of vicious

habits could never have withstood the climate of Central Africa.

The second day after my arrival in Ujiji I asked the Doctor if he did

not feel a desire, sometimes, to visit his country, and take a little

rest after his six years' explorations; and the answer he gave me fully

reveals the man. Said he:

"I should like very much to go home and see my children once again, but

I cannot bring my heart to abandon the task I have undertaken, when it

is so nearly completed. It only requires six or seven months more to

trace the true source that I have discovered with Petherick's branch of

the White Nile, or with the Albert N'Yanza of Sir Samuel Baker, which is

the lake called by the natives 'Chowambe.' Why should I go home before

my task is ended, to have to come back again to do what I can very well

do now?"

"And why?" I asked, "did you come so far back without finishing the task

which you say you have got to do?"

"Simply because I was forced. My men would not budge a step forward.

They mutinied, and formed a secret resolution--if I still insisted upon

going on--to raise a disturbance in the country, and after they had

effected it to abandon me; in which case I should have been killed. It

was dangerous to go any further. I had explored six hundred miles of the

watershed, had traced all the principal streams which discharge their

waters into the central line of drainage, but when about starting to

explore the last hundred miles the hearts of my people failed them,

and they set about frustrating me in every possible way. Now, having

returned seven hundred miles to get a new supply of stores, and another

escort, I find myself destitute of even the means to live but for a few

weeks, and sick in mind and body."

Here I may pause to ask any brave man how he would have comported

himself in such a crisis. Many would have been in exceeding hurry to get

home to tell the news of the continued explorations and discoveries,

and to relieve the anxiety of the sorrowing family and friends awaiting

their return. Enough surely had been accomplished towards the solution

of the problem that had exercised the minds of his scientific associates

of the Royal Geograpical Society. It was no negative exploration, it was

hard, earnest labor of years, self-abnegation, enduring patience, and

exalted fortitude, such as ordinary men fail to exhibit.

Suppose Livingstone had hurried to the coast after he had discovered

Lake Bangweolo, to tell the news to the geographical world; then had

returned to discover Moero, and run away again; then went back once more

only to discover Kamolondo, and to race back again. This would not be in

accordance with Livingstone's character. He must not only discover the

Chambezi, Lake Bangweolo, Luapula River, Lake Moero, Lualaba River, and

Lake Kamolondo, but he must still tirelessly urge his steps forward to

put the final completion to the grand lacustrine river system. Had he

followed the example of ordinary explorers, he would have been running

backwards and forwards to tell the news, instead of exploring; and he

might have been able to write a volume upon the discovery of each lake,

and earn much money thereby. They are no few months' explorations that

form the contents of his books. His 'Missionary Travels' embraces a

period of sixteen years; his book on the Zambezi, five years; and if the

great traveller lives to come home, his third book, the grandest of all,

must contain the records of eight or nine years.

It is a principle with Livingstone to do well what he undertakes to do;

and in the consciousness that he is doing it, despite the yearning for

his home which is sometimes overpowering, he finds, to a certain extent,

contentment, if not happiness. To men differently constituted, a long

residence amongst the savages of Africa would be contemplated

with horror, yet Livingstone's mind can find pleasure and food for

philosophic studies. The wonders of primeval nature, the great forests

and sublime mountains, the perennial streams and sources of the great

lakes, the marvels of the earth, the splendors of the tropic sky by day

and by night--all terrestrial and celestial phenomena are manna to a

man of such self-abnegation and devoted philanthropic spirit. He can be

charmed with the primitive simplicity of Ethiop's dusky children, with

whom he has spent so many years of his life; he has a sturdy faith in

their capabilities; sees virtue in them where others see nothing but

savagery; and wherever he has gone among them, he has sought to elevate

a people that were apparently forgotten of God and Christian man.

One night I took out my note-book, and prepared to take down from his

own lips what he had to say about his travels; and unhesitatingly he

related his experiences, of which the following is a summary:

Dr. David Livingstone left the Island of Zanzibar in March, 1866. On

the 7th of the following month he departed from Mikindany Bay for the

interior, with an expedition consisting of twelve Sepoys from Bombay,

nine men from Johanna, of the Comoro Islands, seven liberated slaves,

and two Zambezi men, taking them as an experiment; six camels, three

buffaloes, two mules, and three donkeys. He had thus thirty men with

him, twelve of whom, viz., the Sepoys, were to act as guards for the

Expedition. They were mostly armed with the Enfield rifles presented

to the Doctor by the Bombay Government. The baggage of the expedition

consisted of ten bales of cloth and two bags of beads, which were to

serve as the currency by which they would be enabled to purchase the

necessaries of life in the countries the Doctor intended to visit.

Besides the cumbrous moneys, they carried several boxes of instruments,

such as chronometers, air thermometers, sextant, and artificial horizon,

boxes containing clothes, medicines, and personal necessaries. The

expedition travelled up the left bank of the Rovuma River, a route as

full of difficulties as any that could be chosen. For miles Livingstone

and his party had to cut their way with their axes through the dense and

almost impenetrable jungles which lined the river's banks. The road was

a mere footpath, leading in the most erratic fashion into and through

the dense vegetation, seeking the easiest outlet from it without any

regard to the course it ran. The pagazis were able to proceed easily

enough; but the camels, on account of their enormous height, could not

advance a step without the axes of the party clearing the way. These

tools of foresters were almost always required; but the advance of the

expedition was often retarded by the unwillingness of the Sepoys and

Johanna men to work.

Soon after the departure of the expedition from the coast, the

murmurings and complaints of these men began, and upon every occasion

and at every opportunity they evinced a decided hostility to an advance.

In order to prevent the progress of the Doctor, and in hopes that it

would compel him to return to the coast, these men so cruelly treated

the animals that before long there was not one left alive. But as this

scheme failed, they set about instigating the natives against the white

men, whom they accused most wantonly of strange practices. As this plan

was most likely to succeed, and as it was dangerous to have such men

with him, the Doctor arrived at the conclusion that it was best to

discharge them, and accordingly sent the Sepoys back to the coast; but

not without having first furnished them with the means of subsistence on

their journey to the coast. These men were such a disreputable set that

the natives spoke of them as the Doctor's slaves. One of their worst

sins was the custom of giving their guns and ammunition to carry to the

first woman or boy they met, whom they impressed for that purpose by

such threats or promises as they were totally unable to perform, and

unwarranted in making. An hour's marching was sufficient to fatigue

them, after which they lay down on the road to bewail their hard fate,

and concoct new schemes to frustrate their leader's purposes. Towards

night they generally made their appearance at the camping-ground with

the looks of half-dead men. Such men naturally made but a poor escort;

for, had the party been attacked by a wandering tribe of natives of

any strength, the Doctor could have made no defence, and no other

alternative would have been left to him but to surrender and be ruined.

The Doctor and his little party arrived on the 18th July, 1866, at a

village belonging to a chief of the Wahiyou, situate eight days' march

south of the Rovuma, and overlooking the watershed of the Lake Nyassa.

The territory lying between the Rovuma River and this Wahiyou village

was an uninhabited wilderness, during the transit of which Livingstone

and his expedition suffered considerably from hunger and desertion of

men.

Early in August, 1866, the Doctor came to the country of Mponda, a

chief who dwelt near the Lake Nyassa. On the road thither, two of the

liberated slaves deserted him. Here also, Wekotani, a protege of the

Doctor, insisted upon his discharge, alleging as an excuse--an excuse

which the Doctor subsequently found to be untrue--that he had found his

brother. He also stated that his family lived on the east side of the

Nyassa Lake. He further stated that Mponda's favourite wife was his

sister. Perceiving that Wekotani was unwilling to go with him further,

the Doctor took him to Mponda, who now saw and heard of him for the

first time, and, having furnished the ungrateful boy with enough cloth

and beads to keep him until his "big brother" should call for him, left

him with the chief, after first assuring himself that he would

receive honourable treatment from him. The Doctor also gave Wekotanti

writing-paper--as he could read and write, being accomplishments

acquired at Bombay, where he had been put to school--so that, should he

at any time feel disposed, he might write to his English friends, or to

himself. The Doctor further enjoined him not to join in any of the

slave raids usually made by his countrymen, the men of Nyassa, on

their neighbours. Upon finding that his application for a discharge was

successful, Wekotani endeavoured to induce Chumah, another protege

of the Doctor's, and a companion, or chum, of Wekotani, to leave the

Doctor's service and proceed with him, promising, as a bribe, a wife

and plenty of pombe from his "big brother." Chumah, upon referring the

matter to the Doctor, was advised not to go, as he (the Doctor) strongly

suspected that Wekotani wanted only to make him his slave. Chumah wisely

withdrew from his tempter. From Mponda's, the Doctor proceeded to the

heel of the Nyassa, to the village of a Babisa chief, who required

medicine for a skin disease. With his usual kindness, he stayed at this

chief's village to treat his malady.

While here, a half-caste Arab arrived from the western shore of the

lake, and reported that he had been plundered by a band of Mazitu, at

a place which the Doctor and Musa, chief of the Johanna men, were very

well aware was at least 150 miles north-north-west of where they were

then stopping. Musa, however, for his own reasons--which will appear

presently--eagerly listened to the Arab's tale, and gave full credence

to it. Having well digested its horrible details, he came to the Doctor

to give him the full benefit of what he had heard with such willing

ears. The traveller patiently listened to the narrative, which lost

nothing of its portentous significance through Musa's relation, and then

asked Musa if he believed it. "Yes," answered Musa, readily; "he tell

me true, true. I ask him good, and he tell me true, true." The Doctor,

however, said he did not believe it, for the Mazitu would not have been

satisfied with merely plundering a man, they would have murdered him;

but suggested, in order to allay the fears of his Moslem subordinate,

that they should both proceed to the chief with whom they were staying,

who, being a sensible man, would be able to advise them as to the

probability or improbability of the tale being correct. Together, they

proceeded to the Babisa chief, who, when he had heard the Arab's story,

unhesitatingly denounced the Arab as a liar, and his story without the

least foundation in fact; giving as a reason that, if the Mazitu had

been lately in that vicinity, he should have heard of it soon enough.

But Musa broke out with "No, no, Doctor; no, no, no; I no want to go to

Mazitu. I no want Mazitu to kill me. I want to see my father, my

mother, my child, in Johanna. I want no Mazitu." These are Musa's words

_ipsissima verba_.

To which the Doctor replied, "I don't want the Mazitu to kill me either;

but, as you are afraid of them, I promise to go straight west until we

get far past the beat of the Mazitu."

Musa was not satisfied, but kept moaning and sorrowing, saying, "If we

had two hundred guns with us I would go; but our small party of men they

will attack by night, and kill all."

The Doctor repeated his promise, "But I will not go near them; I will go

west."

As soon as he turned his face westward, Musa and the Johanna men ran

away in a body.

The Doctor says, in commenting upon Musa's conduct, that he felt

strongly tempted to shoot Musa and another ringleader, but was,

nevertheless, glad that he did not soil his hands with their vile blood.

A day or two afterwards, another of his men--Simon Price by name--came

to the Doctor with the same tale about the Mazitu, but, compelled by the

scant number of his people to repress all such tendencies to desertion

and faint-heartedness, the Doctor silenced him at once, and sternly

forbade him to utter the name of the Mazitu any more.

Had the natives not assisted him, he must have despaired of ever being

able to penetrate the wild and unexplored interior which he was now

about to tread. "Fortunately," as the Doctor says with unction, "I was

in a country now, after leaving the shores of Nyassa, which the foot

of the slave-trader has not trod; it was a new and virgin land, and of

course, as I have always found in such cases, the natives were really

good and hospitable, and for very small portions of cloth my baggage

was conveyed from village to village by them." In many other ways

the traveller, in his extremity, was kindly treated by the yet

unsophisticated and innocent natives.

On leaving this hospitable region in the early part of December, 1866,

the Doctor entered a country where the Mazitu had exercised their

customary marauding propensities. The land was swept clean of provisions

and cattle, and the people had emigrated to other countries, beyond the

bounds of those ferocious plunderers. Again the Expedition was besieged

by pinching hunger from which they suffered; they had recourse to the

wild fruits which some parts of the country furnished. At intervals

the condition of the hard-pressed band was made worse by the heartless

desertion of some of its members, who more than once departed with the

Doctor's personal kit, changes of clothes, linen, &c. With more or less

misfortunes constantly dogging his footsteps, he traversed in safety the

countries of the Babisa, Bobemba, Barungu, Ba-ulungu, and Lunda.

In the country of Lunda lives the famous Cazembe, who was first made

known to Europeans by Dr. Lacerda, the Portuguese traveller. Cazembe

is a most intelligent prince; he is a tall, stalwart man, who wears

a peculiar kind of dress, made of crimson print, in the form of

a prodigious kilt. In this state dress, King Cazembe received Dr.

Livingstone, surrounded by his chiefs and body-guards. A chief, who had

been deputed by the King and elders to discover all about the white man,

then stood up before the assembly, and in a loud voice gave the result

of the inquiry he had instituted. He had heard that the white man had

come to look for waters, for rivers, and seas; though he could not

understand what the white man could want with such things, he had no

doubt that the object was good. Then Cazembe asked what the Doctor

proposed doing, and where he thought of going. The Doctor replied that

he had thought of proceeding south, as he had heard of lakes and rivers

being in that direction. Cazembe asked, "What can you want to go there

for? The water is close here. There is plenty of large water in this

neighbourhood." Before breaking up the assembly, Cazembe gave orders to

let the white man go where he would through his country undisturbed and

unmolested. He was the first Englishman he had seen, he said, and he

liked him.

Shortly after his introduction to the King, the Queen entered the large

house, surrounded by a body-guard of Amazons with spears. She was a

fine, tall, handsome young woman, and evidently thought she was about

to make an impression upon the rustic white man, for she had clothed

herself after a most royal fashion, and was armed with a ponderous

spear. But her appearance--so different from what the Doctor had

imagined--caused him to laugh, which entirely spoiled the effect

intended; for the laugh of the Doctor was so contagious, that she

herself was the first to imitate it, and the Amazons, courtier-like,

followed suit. Much disconcerted by this, the Queen ran back, followed

by her obedient damsels--a retreat most undignified and unqueenlike,

compared with her majestic advent into the Doctor's presence. But

Livingstone will have much to say about his reception at this court, and

about this interesting King and Queen; and who can so well relate the

scenes he witnessed, and which belong exclusively to him, as he himself?

Soon after his arrival in the country of Lunda, or Londa, and before he

had entered the district ruled over by Cazembe, he had crossed a river

called the Chambezi, which was quite an important stream. The similarity

of the name with that large and noble river south, which will be for

ever connected with his name, misled Livingstone at that time, and he,

accordingly, did not pay to it the attention it deserved, believing that

the Chambezi was but the head-waters of the Zambezi, and consequently

had no bearing or connection with the sources of the river of Egypt, of

which he was in search. His fault was in relying too implicitly upon

the correctness of Portuguese information. This error it cost him many

months of tedious labour and travel to rectify.

From the beginning of 1867--the time of his arrival at Cazembe's--till

the middle of March, 1869--the time of his arrival at Ujiji--he was

mostly engaged in correcting the errors and misrepresentations of

the Portuguese travellers. The Portuguese, in speaking of the River

Chambezi, invariably spoke of it as "our own Zambezi,"--that is,

the Zambezi which flows through the Portuguese possessions of the

Mozambique. "In going to Cazembe from Nyassa," said they, "you will

cross our own Zambezi." Such positive and reiterated information--given

not only orally, but in their books and maps--was naturally confusing.

When the Doctor perceived that what he saw and what they described were

at variance, out of a sincere wish to be correct, and lest he might

have been mistaken himself, he started to retravel the ground he had

travelled before. Over and over again he traversed the several countries

watered by the several rivers of the complicated water system, like an

uneasy spirit. Over and over again he asked the same questions from

the different peoples he met, until he was obliged to desist, lest they

might say, "The man is mad; he has got water on the brain!"

But his travels and tedious labours in Lunda and the adjacent countries

have established beyond doubt--first, that the Chambezi is a totally

distinct river from the Zambezi of the Portuguese; and, secondly, that

the Chambezi, starting from about latitude 11 degrees south, is no

other than the most southerly feeder of the great Nile; thus giving that

famous river a length of over 2,000 miles of direct latitude; making it,

second to the Mississippi, the longest river in the world. The real and

true name of the Zambezi is Dombazi. When Lacerda and his Portuguese

successors, coming to Cazembe, crossed the Chambezi, and heard its

name, they very naturally set it down as "our own Zambezi," and, without

further inquiry, sketched it as running in that direction.

During his researches in that region, so pregnant in discoveries,

Livingstone came to a lake lying north-east of Cazembe, which the

natives call Liemba, from the country of that name which bordered it on

the east and south. In tracing the lake north, he found it to be none

other than the Tanganika, or the south-eastern extremity of it, which

looks, on the Doctor's map, very much like an outline of Italy. The

latitude of the southern end of this great body of water is about 8

degrees 42 minutes south, which thus gives it a length, from north to

south, of 360 geographical miles. From the southern extremity of the

Tanganika he crossed Marungu, and came in sight of Lake Moero. Tracing

this lake, which is about sixty miles in length, to its southern head,

he found a river, called the Luapula, entering it from that direction.

Following the Luapula south, he found it issue from the large lake

of Bangweolo, which is nearly as large in superficial area as the

Tanganika. In exploring for the waters which discharged themselves into

the lake, he found that by far the most important of these feeders was

the Chambezi; so that he had thus traced the Chambezi from its source to

Lake Bangweolo, and the issue from its northern head, under the name of

Luapula, and found it enter Lake Moero. Again he returned to Cazembe's,

well satisfied that the river running north through three degrees of

latitude could not be the river running south under the name of Zambezi,

though there might be a remarkable resemblance in their names.

At Cazembe's he found an old white-bearded half-caste named Mohammed bin

Sali, who was kept as a kind of prisoner at large by the King because

of certain suspicious circumstances attending his advent and stay in the

country. Through Livingstone's influence Mohammed bin Sali obtained

his release. On the road to Ujiji he had bitter cause to regret having

exerted himself in the half-caste's behalf. He turned out to be a most

ungrateful wretch, who poisoned the minds of the Doctor's few followers,

and ingratiated himself with them by selling the favours of his

concubines to them, by which he reduced them to a kind of bondage under

him. The Doctor was deserted by all but two, even faithful Susi and

Chumah deserted him for the service of Mohammed bin Sali. But they soon

repented, and returned to their allegiance. From the day he had the

vile old man in his company manifold and bitter misfortunes followed the

Doctor up to his arrival at Ujiji in March, 1869.

From the date of his arrival until the end of June, 1869, he remained

at Ujiji, whence he dated those letters which, though the outside

world still doubted his being alive, satisfied the minds of the Royal

Geographical people, and his intimate friends, that he still existed,

and that Musa'a tale was the false though ingenious fabrication of a

cowardly deserter. It was during this time that the thought occurred to

him of sailing around the Lake Tanganika, but the Arabs and natives were

so bent upon fleecing him that, had he undertaken it, the remainder

or his goods would not have enabled him to explore the central line of

drainage, the initial point of which he found far south of Cazembe's in

about latitude 11 degrees, in the river called Chambezi.

In the days when tired Captain Burton was resting in Ujiji, after his

march from the coast near Zanzibar, the land to which Livingstone, on

his departure from Ujiji, bent his steps was unknown to the Arabs save

by vague report. Messrs. Burton and Speke never heard of it, it seems.

Speke, who was the geographer of Burton's Expedition, heard of a place

called Urua, which he placed on his map, according to the general

direction indicated by the Arabs; but the most enterprising of the

Arabs, in their search after ivory, only touched the frontiers of Rua,

as, the natives and Livingstone call it; for Rua is an immense country,

with a length of six degrees of latitude, and as yet an undefined

breadth from east to west.

At the end of June, 1869, Livingstone quitted Ujiji and crossed over

to Uguhha, on the western shore, for his last and greatest series of

explorations; the result of which was the further discovery of a lake

of considerable magnitude connected with Moero by the large river called

the Lualaba, and which was a continuation of the chain of lakes he had

previously discovered.

From the port of Uguhha he set off, in company with a body of traders,

in an almost direct westerly course, for the country of Urua. Fifteen

days' march brought them to Bambarre, the first important ivory depot

in Manyema, or, as the natives pronounce it, Manyuema. For nearly

six months he was detained at Bambarre from ulcers in the feet, which

discharged bloody ichor as soon as he set them on the ground. When

recovered, he set off in a northerly direction, and after several days

came to a broad lacustrine river, called the Lualaba, flowing northward

and westward, and in some places southward, in a most confusing way.

The river was from one to three miles broad. By exceeding pertinacity he

contrived to follow its erratic course, until he saw the Lualaba enter

the narrow, long lake of Kamolondo, in about latitude 6 degrees 30

minutes. Retracing this to the south, he came to the point where he had

seen the Luapula enter Lake Moero.

One feels quite enthusiastic when listening to Livingstone's description

of the beauties of Moero scenery. Pent in on all sides by high

mountains, clothed to the edges with the rich vegetation of the tropics,

the Moero discharges its superfluous waters through a deep rent in the

bosom of the mountains. The impetuous and grand river roars through

the chasm with the thunder of a cataract, but soon after leaving its

confined and deep bed it expands into the calm and broad Lualaba,

stretching over miles of ground. After making great bends west and

south-west, and then curving northward, it enters Kamolondo. By

the natives it is called the Lualaba, but the Doctor, in order to

distinguish it from other rivers of the same name, has given it the name

of "Webb's River," after Mr. Webb, the wealthy proprietor of Newstead

Abbey, whom the Doctor distinguishes as one of his oldest and most

consistent friends. Away to the south-west from Kamolondo is another

large lake, which discharges its waters by the important River Loeki, or

Lomami, into the great Lualaba. To this lake, known as Chebungo by

the natives, Dr. Livingstone has given the name of "Lincoln," to be

hereafter distinguished on maps and in books as Lake Lincoln, in memory

of Abraham Lincoln, our murdered President. This was done from the vivid

impression produced on his mind by hearing a portion of his inauguration

speech read from an English pulpit, which related to the causes that

induced him to issue his Emancipation Proclamation, by which memorable

deed 4,000,000 of slaves were for ever freed. To the memory of the man

whose labours on behalf of the negro race deserves the commendation of

all good men, Livingstone has contributed a monument more durable than

brass or stone.

Entering Webb's River from the south-south-west, a little north of

Kamolondo, is a large river called Lufira, but the streams, that

discharge themselves from the watershed into the Lualaba are so numerous

that the Doctor's map would not contain them, so he has left all out

except the most important. Continuing his way north, tracing the Lualaba

through its manifold and crooked curves as far as latitude 4 degrees

south, he came to where he heard of another lake, to the north, into

which it ran. But here you may come to a dead halt, and read what lies

beyond this spot thus.... This was the furthermost point, whence he was

compelled to return on the weary road to Ujiji, a distance of 700 miles.

In this brief sketch of Dr. Livingstone's wonderful travels it is to be

hoped the most superficial reader, as well as the student of geography,

comprehends this grand system of lakes connected together by Webb's

River. To assist him, let him glance at the map accompanying this book.

He will then have a fair idea of what Dr. Livingstone has been doing

during these long years, and what additions he has made to the study of

African geography. That this river, distinguished under several titles,

flowing from one lake into another in a northerly direction, with all

its great crooked bends and sinuosities, is the Nile--the true Nile--the

Doctor has not the least doubt. For a long time he entertained great

scepticism, because of its deep bends and curves west, and south-west

even; but having traced it from its head waters, the Chambezi, through

7 degrees of latitude--that is, from 11 degrees S. to lat. 4 degrees

N.--he has been compelled to come to the conclusion that it can be no

other river than the Nile. He had thought it was the Congo; but has

discovered the sources of the Congo to be the Kassai and the Kwango, two

rivers which rise on the western side of the Nile watershed, in about

the latitude of Bangweolo; and he was told of another river called the

Lubilash, which rose from the north, and ran west. But the Lualaba, the

Doctor thinks, cannot be the Congo, from its great size and body,

and from its steady and continued flow northward through a broad and

extensive valley, bounded by enormous mountains westerly and easterly.

The altitude of the most northerly point to which the Doctor traced the

wonderful river was a little in excess of 2,000 feet; so that, though

Baker makes out his lake to be 2,700 feet above the sea, yet the Bahr

Ghazal, through which Petherick's branch of the White Nile issues into

the Nile, is but 2,000 feet; in which case there is a possibility that

the Lualaba may be none other than Petherick's branch.

It is well known that trading stations for ivory have been established

for about 500 miles up Petherick's branch. We must remember this fact

when told that Gondokoro, in lat. 4 degrees N., is 2,000 feet above the

sea, and lat. 4 degrees S., where the halt was made, is only a little

over 2,000 feet above the sea. That the two rivers said to be 2,000 feet

above the sea, separated from each other by 8 degrees of latitude, are

one and the same river, may among some men be regarded as a startling

statement. But we must restrain mere expressions of surprise, and take

into consideration that this mighty and broad Lualaba is a lacustrine

river broader than the Mississippi; that at intervals the body of water

forms extensive lakes; then, contracting into a broad river, it again

forms a lake, and so on, to lat. 4 degrees; and even beyond this point

the Doctor hears of a large lake again north.

We must wait also until the altitudes of the two rivers, the Lualaba,

where the Doctor halted, and the southern point on the Bahr Ghazal,

where Petherick has been, are known with perfect accuracy.

Now, for the sake of argument, suppose we give this nameless lake a

length of 6 degrees of latitude, as it may be the one discovered by

Piaggia, the Italian traveller, from which Petherick's branch of the

White Nile issues out through reedy marshes, into the Bahr Ghazal,

thence into the White Nile, south of Gondokoro. By this method we can

suppose the rivers one; for if the lake extends over so many degrees of

latitude, the necessity of explaining the differences of altitude that

must naturally exist between two points of a river 8 degrees of latitude

apart, would be obviated.

Also, Livingstone's instruments for observation and taking altitudes

may have been in error; and this is very likely to have been the case,

subjected as they have been to rough handling during nearly six years

of travel. Despite the apparent difficulty of the altitude, there is

another strong reason for believing Webb's River, or the Lualaba, to be

the Nile. The watershed of this river, 600 miles of which Livingstone

has travelled, is drained from a valley which lies north and south

between lofty eastern and western ranges.

This valley, or line of drainage, while it does not receive the Kassai

and the Kwango, receives rivers flowing from a great distance west, for

instance, the important tributaries Lufira and Lomami, and large

rivers from the east, such as the Lindi and Luamo; and, while the most

intelligent Portuguese travellers and traders state that the Kassai, the

Kwango, and Lubilash are the head waters of the Congo River, no one

has yet started the supposition that the grand river flowing north, and

known by the natives as the Lualaba, is the Congo.

This river may be the Congo, or, perhaps, the Niger. If the Lualaba is

only 2,000 feet above the sea, and the Albert N'Yanza 2,700 feet, the

Lualaba cannot enter that lake. If the Bahr Ghazal does not extend by

an arm for eight degrees above Gondokoro, then the Lualaba cannot be the

Nile. But it would be premature to dogmatise on the subject. Livingstone

will clear up the point himself; and if he finds it to be the Congo,

will be the first to admit his error.

Livingstone admits the Nile sources have not been found, though he has

traced the Lualaba through seven degrees of latitude flowing north; and,

though he has not a particle of doubt of its being the Nile, not yet can

the Nile question be said to be resolved and ended. For two reasons:

1. He has heard of the existence of four fountains, two of which gave

birth to a river flowing north, Webb's River, or the Lualaba, and to a

river flowing south, which is the Zambezi. He has repeatedly heard of

these fountains from the natives. Several times he has been within 100

and 200 miles from them, but something always interposed to prevent his

going to see them. According to those who have seen them, they rise on

either side of a mound or level, which contains no stones. Some have

called it an ant-hill. One of these fountains is said to be so large

that a man, standing on one side, cannot be seen from the other. These

fountains must be discovered, and their position taken. The Doctor does

not suppose them to be south of the feeders of Lake Bangweolo. In his

letter to the 'Herald' he says "These four full-grown gushing fountains,

rising so near each other, and giving origin to four large rivers,

answer in a certain degree to the description given of the unfathomable

fountains of the Nile, by the secretary of Minerva, in the city of Sais,

in Egypt, to the father of all travellers--Herodotus."

For the information of such readers as may not have the original at

hand, I append the following from Cary's translation of Herodotus:

(II.28)

(Jul 2001 The History of Herodotus V1 by Herodotus; Macaulay)

*** With respect to the sources of the Nile, no man of all the

Egyptians, Libyans, or Grecians, with whom I have conversed,

ever pretended to know anything, except the registrar* of Minerva's

*the secretary of the treasury of the goddess Neith, or Athena as

Herodotus calls her: ho grammatiste:s to:n hiro:n xre:mato:n te:s

Athe:naie:s>

treasury at Sais, in Egypt. He, indeed, seemed to be trifling

with me when he said he knew perfectly well; yet his account was

as follows: "That there are two mountains, rising into a sharp

peak, situated between the city of Syene, in Thebais, and

Elephantine. The names of these mountains are the one Crophi,

the other Mophi; that the sources of the Nile, which are bottomless,

flow from between these mountains and that half of the water flows

over Egypt and to the north, the other half over Ethiopia and the

south. That the fountains of the Nile are bottomless, he said,

Psammitichus, king of Egypt, proved by experiment: for, having

caused a line to be twisted many thousand fathoms in length, he

let it down, but could not find a bottom." Such, then, was the

opinion the registrar gave, if, indeed, he spoke the real truth;

proving, in my opinion, that there are strong whirlpools and an

eddy here, so that the water beating against the rocks, a

sounding-line, when let down, cannot reach the bottom. I was

unable to learn anything more from any one else. But thus much

I learnt by carrying my researches as far as possible, having gone

and made my own observations as far as Elephantine, and beyond

that obtaining information from hearsay. As one ascends the river,

above the city of Elephantine, the country is steep; here,

therefore; it is necessary to attach a rope on both sides of a boat,

as one does with an ox in a plough, and so proceed; but if

the rope should happen to break, the boat is carried away by the

force of the stream. This kind of country lasts for a four-days'

passage, and the Nile here winds as much as the Maeander. There

are twelve schoeni, which it is necessary to sail through in

this manner; and after that you will come to a level plain, where

the Nile flows round an island; its name is Tachompso. Ethiopians

inhabit the country immediately above Elephantine, and one half

of the island; the other half is inhabited by Egyptians. Near to

this island lies a vast lake, on the borders of which Ethiopian

nomades dwell. After sailing through this lake you will come to

the channel of the Nile, which flows into it: then you will have

to land and travel forty days by the side of the river, for sharp

rocks rise in the Nile, and there are many sunken ones, through

which it is not possible to navigate a boat. Having passed this

country in the forty days, you must go on board another boat, and

sail for twelve days; and then you will arrive at a large city,

called Meroe; this city is said to be the capital of all

Ethiopia. The inhabitants worship no other gods than Jupiter and

Bacchus; but these they honour with great magnificence. They

have also an oracle of Jupiter; and they make war whenever that

god bids them by an oracular warning, and against whatever

country he bids them. Sailing from this city, you will arrive at

the country of the Automoli, in a space of time equal to that

which you took in coming from Elephantine to the capital of the

Ethiopians. These Automoli are called by the name of Asmak,

which, in the language of Greece, signifies "those that stand at

the left hand of the king." These, to the number of two hundred and

forty thousand of the Egyptian war-tribe, revolted to the

Ethiopians on the following occasion. In the reign of King

Psammitichus garrisons were stationed at Elephantine against the

Ethiopians, and another at the Pelusian Daphnae against the

Arabians and Syrians, and another at Marea against Libya; and even

in my time garrisons of the Persians are stationed in the same

places as they were in the time of Psammitichus, for they

maintain guards at Elephantine and Daphnae. Now, these Egyptians,

after they had been on duty three years, were not relieved;

therefore, having consulted together and come to an unanimous

resolution, they all revolted from Psammitichus, and went to

Ethiopia. Psammitichus, hearing of this, pursued them; and when

he overtook them he entreated them by many arguments, and adjured

them not to forsake the gods of their fathers, and their

children and wives But one of them is reported to have uncovered

[ ] and to have said, that wheresoever these were there they

["which it is said that one of them pointed to his privy member and

said that wherever this was, there would they have both children and

wives"--Macaulay tr.; published edition censors]

should find both children and wives." These men, when they arrived

in Ethiopia, offered their services to the king of the Ethiopians,

who made them the following recompense. There were certain

Ethiopians disaffected towards him; these he bade them expel,

and take possession of their land. By the settlement of these men

among the Ethiopians, the Ethiopians became more civilized, and

learned the manners of the Egyptians.

Now, for a voyage and land journey of four months, the Nile is

known, in addition to the part f the stream that is in Egypt; for,

upon computation, so many months are known to be spent by a

person who travels from Elephantine to the Automoli. This river

flows from the west and the setting of the sun; but beyond this no

one is able to speak with certainty, for the rest of the country

is desert by reason of the excessive heat. But I have heard the

following account from certain Cyrenaeans, who say that they went

to the oracle of Ammon, and had a conversation with Etearchus, King

of the Ammonians, and that, among other subjects, they happened to

discourse about the Nile--that nobody knew its sources; whereupon

Etearchus said that certain Nasamonians once came to him--this

nation is Lybian, and inhabits the Syrtis, and the country for no

great distance eastward of the Syrtis--and that when these

Nasamonians arrived, and were asked if they could give any

further formation touching the deserts of Libya, they answered,

that there were some daring youths amongst them, sons of powerful

men; and that they, having reached man's estate, formed many

other extravagant plans, and, moreover, chose five of their number

by lot to explore the deserts of Libya, to see if they could make

any further discovery than those who had penetrated the farthest.

(For, as respects the parts of Libya along the Northern Sea,

beginning from Egypt to the promontory of Solois, where is the

extremity of Libya, Libyans and various nations of Libyans reach

all along it, except those parts which are occupied by Grecians

and Phoenicians; but as respects the parts above the sea, and

those nations which reach down to the sea, in the upper parts

Libya is infested by wild beasts; and all beyond that is sand,

dreadfully short of water, and utterly desolate.) They further

related, "that when the young men deputed by their companions

set out, well furnished with water and provisions, they passed

first through the inhabited country; and having traversed this,

they came to the region infested by wild beasts; and after this

they crossed the desert, making their way towards the west; and

when they had traversed much sandy ground, during a journey of

many days, they at length saw some trees growing in a plain; and

that they approached and began to gather the fruit that grew on

the trees; and while they were gathering, some diminutive men,

less than men of middle stature, came up, and having seized them

carried them away; and that the Nasamonians did not at all understand

their language, nor those who carried them off the language of

the Nasamonians. However, they conducted them through vast

morasses, and when they had passed these, they came to a city in

which all the inhabitants were of the same size as their conductors,

and black in colour: and by the city flowed a great river, running

from the west to the east, and that crocodiles were seen in it."

Thus far I have set forth the account of Etearchus the Ammonian;

to which may be added, as the Cyrenaeans assured me, "that he said

the Nasamonians all returned safe to their own country, and that

the men whom they came to were all necromancers." Etearchus also

conjectured that this river, which flows by their city, is the Nile;

and reason so evinces: for the Nile flows from Libya, and intersects

it in the middle; and (as I conjecture, inferring things unknown

from things known) it sets out from a point corresponding with the

Ister. For the Ister, beginning from the Celts, and the city of

Pyrene, divides Europe in its course; but the Celts are beyond

the pillars of Hercules, and border on the territories of the

Cynesians, who lie in the extremity of Europe to the westward;

and the Ister terminates by flowing through all Europe into the

Euxine Sea, where a Milesian colony is settled in Istria. Now

the Ister, as it flows through a well-peopled country, is generally

known; but no one is able to speak about the sources of the Nile,

because Libya, through which it flows, is uninhabited and desolate.

Respecting this stream, therefore, as far as I was able to reach by

inquiry, I have already spoken. It however discharges itself into

Egypt; and Egypt lies, as near as may be, opposite to the

mountains of Cilicia; from whence to Sinope, on the Euxine Sea,

is a five days' journey in a straight line to an active man; and

Sinope is opposite to the Ister, where it discharges itself into

the sea. So I think that the Nile, traversing the whole of Libya,

may be properly compared with the Ister. Such, then, is the

account that I am able to give respecting the Nile.

*** <end of Herodotus's account) ***

2. Webb's River must be traced to its connection with some portion of

the old Nile.

When these two things have been accomplished, then, and not till then,

can the mystery of the Nile be explained. The two countries through

which the marvellous lacustrine river, the Lualaba, flows, with its

manifold lakes and broad expanse of water, are Rua (the Uruwwa of Speke)

and Manyuema. For the first time Europe is made aware that between

the Tanganika and the known sources of the Congo there exist teeming

millions of the negro race, who never saw, or heard of the white people

who make such a noisy and busy stir outside of Africa. Upon the minds

of those who had the good fortune to see the first specimen of these

remarkable white races in Dr. Livingstone, he seems to have made a

favourable impression, though, through misunderstanding his object, and

coupling him with the Arabs, who make horrible work there, his life

was sought after more than once. These two extensive countries, Rua

and Manyuema, are populated by true heathens, governed, not as the

sovereignties of Karagwah, Urundi, and Uganda, by despotic kings, but

each village by its own sultan or lord. Thirty miles outside of their

own immediate settlements, the most intelligent of these small chiefs

seem to know nothing. Thirty miles from the Lualaba, there were but few

people who had ever heard of the great river. Such ignorance among

the natives of their own country naturally increased the labours of

Livingstone. Compared with these, all tribes and nations in Africa with

whom Livingstone came in contact may be deemed civilized, yet, in

the arts of home manufacture, these wild people of Manyuema were far

superior to any he had seen. Where other tribes and nations contented

themselves with hides and skins of animals thrown negligently over their

shoulders, the people of Manyuema manufactured a cloth from fine grass,

which may favorably compare with the finest grass cloth of India. They

also know the art of dyeing them in various colours--black, yellow,

and purple. The Wangwana, or freed-men of Zanzibar, struck with the

beauty of the fabric, eagerly exchange their cotton cloths for fine

grass cloth; and on almost every black man from Manyuema I have seen

this native cloth converted into elegantly made damirs (Arabic)--short

jackets. These countries are also very rich in ivory. The fever for

going to Manyuema to exchange tawdry beads for its precious tusks is

of the same kind as that which impelled men to go to the gulches and

placers of California, Colorado, Montana, and Idaho; after nuggets to

Australia, and diamonds to Cape Colony. Manyuema is at present the El

Dorado of the Arab and the Wamrima tribes. It is only about four years

since that the first Arab returned from Manyuema, with such wealth of

ivory, and reports about the fabulous quantities found there, that ever

since the old beaten tracks of Karagwah, Uganda, Ufipa, and Marungu have

been comparatively deserted. The people of Manyuema, ignorant of the

value of the precious article, reared their huts upon ivory stanchions.

Ivory pillars were common sights in Manyuema, and, hearing of these, one

can no longer, wonder at the ivory palace of Solomon. For generations

they have used ivory tusks as door-posts and supports to the eaves,

until they had become perfectly rotten and worthless. But the advent of

the Arabs soon taught them the value of the article. It has now risen

considerably in price, though still fabulously cheap. At Zanzibar

the value of ivory per frasilah of 35 lbs. weight is from $50 to $60,

according to its quality. In Unyanyembe it is about $1-10 per pound, but

in Manyuema, it may be purchased for from half a cent to 14 cent's worth

of copper per pound of ivory. The Arabs, however, have the knack of

spoiling markets by their rapacity and cruelty. With muskets, a small

party of Arabs is invincible against such people as those of Manyuema,

who, until lately, never heard the sound of a gun. The discharge of a

musket inspires mortal terror in them, and it is almost impossible to

induce them to face the muzzle of a gun. They believe that the Arabs

have stolen the lightning, and that against such people the bow and

arrow can have little effect. They are by no means devoid of courage,

and they have often declared that, were it not for the guns, not one

Arab would leave the country alive; this tends to prove that they would

willingly engage in fight with the strangers who had made themselves

so detestable, were it not that the startling explosion of gunpowder

inspires them with terror.

Into what country soever the Arabs enter, they contrive to render their

name and race abominated. But the mainspring of it all is not the Arab's

nature, colour, or name, but simply the slave-trade. So long as the

slave-trade is permitted to be kept up at Zanzibar, so long will these

otherwise enterprising people, the Arabs, kindle gainst them the hatred

of the natives throughout Africa.

On the main line of travel from Zanzibar into the interior of Africa

these acts of cruelty are unknown, for the very good reason that

the natives having been armed with guns, and taught how to use those

weapons, are by no means loth to do so whenever an opportunity presents

itself. When, too late, they have perceived their folly in selling guns

to the natives, the Arabs now begin to vow vengeance on the person who

will in future sell a gun to a native. But they are all guilty of the

same mistake, and it is strange they did not perceive that it was folly

when they were doing so.

In former days the Arab, when protected by his slave escort, armed with

guns, could travel through Useguhha, Urori, Ukonongo, Ufipa, Karagwah,

Unyoro, and Uganda, with only a stick in his hand; now, however, it is

impossible for him or any one else to do so. Every step he takes, armed

or unarmed, is fraught with danger. The Waseguhha, near the coast,

detain him, and demand the tribute, or give him the option of war;

entering Ugogo, he is subjected every day to the same oppressive demand,

or to the fearful alternative. The Wanyamwezi also show their readiness

to take the same advantage; the road to Karagwah is besieged with

difficulties; the terrible Mirambo stands in the way, defeats their

combined forces with ease, and makes raids even to the doors of their

houses in Unyanyembe; and should they succeed in passing Mirambo, a

chief--Swaruru--stands before them who demands tribute by the bale, and

against whom it is useless to contend.

These remarks have reference to the slave-trade inaugurated in Manyuema

by the Arabs. Harassed on the road between Zanzibar and Unyanyembe

by minatory natives, who with bloody hands are ready to avenge the

slightest affront, the Arabs have refrained from kidnapping between the

Tanganika and the sea; but in Manyuema, where the natives are timid,

irresolute, and divided into small weak tribes, they recover their

audacity, and exercise their kidnapping propensities unchecked.

The accounts which the Doctor brings from that new region are most

deplorable. He was an unwilling spectator of a horrible deed--a massacre

committed on the inhabitants of a populous district who had assembled

in the market-place on the banks of the Lualaba, as they had been

accustomed to do for ages. It seems that the Wamanyuema are very fond of

marketing, believing it to be the summum bonum of human enjoyment. They

find endless pleasure in chaffering with might and main for the least

mite of their currency--the last bead; and when they gain the point to

which their peculiar talents are devoted, they feel intensely happy.

The women are excessively fond of this marketing, and, as they are very

beautiful, the market place must possess considerable attractions for

the male sex. It was on such a day amidst such a scene, that Tagamoyo,

a half-caste Arab, with his armed slave escort, commenced an

indiscriminate massacre by firing volley after volley into the dense

mass of human beings. It is supposed that there were about 2,000

present, and at the first sound of the firing these poor people all made

a rush for their canoes. In the fearful hurry to avoid being shot, the

canoes were paddled away by the first fortunate few who got possession

of them; those that were not so fortunate sprang into the deep waters

of the Lualaba, and though many of them became an easy prey to the

voracious crocodiles which swarmed to the scene, the majority received

their deaths from the bullets of the merciless Tagamoyo and his

villanous band. The Doctor believes, as do the Arabs themselves, that

about 400 people, mostly women and children, lost their lives, while

many more were made slaves. This outrage is only one of many such he has

unwillingly witnessed, and he is utterly unable to describe the feelings

of loathing he feels for the inhuman perpetrators.

Slaves from Manyuema command a higher price than those of any other

country, because of their fine forms and general docility. The women,

the Doctor said repeatedly, are remarkably pretty creatures, and have

nothing, except the hair, in common with the negroes of the West

Coast. They are of very light colour, have fine noses, well-cut and not

over-full lips, while the prognathous jaw is uncommon. These women are

eagerly sought after as wives by the half-castes of the East Coast, and

even the pure Omani Arabs do not disdain to take them in marriage.

To the north of Manyuema, Livingstone came to the light-complexioned

race, of the colour of Portuguese, or our own Louisiana quadroons,

who are very fine people, and singularly remarkable for commercial

"'cuteness" and sagacity. The women are expert divers for oysters, which

are found in great abundance in the Lualaba.

Rua, at a place called Katanga, is rich in copper. The copper-mines of

this place have been worked for ages. In the bed of a stream, gold has

been found, washed down in pencil-shaped pieces or in particles as large

as split peas. Two Arabs have gone thither to prospect for this metal;

but, as they are ignorant of the art of gulch-mining, it is scarcely

possible that they will succeed. From these highly important and

interesting discoveries, Dr. Livingstone was turned back, when almost

on the threshold of success, by the positive refusal of his men to

accompany him further. They were afraid to go on unless accompanied by

a large force of men; and, as these were not procurable in Manyuema, the

Doctor reluctantly turned his face towards Ujiji.

It was a long and weary road back. The journey had now no interest for

him. He had travelled the road before when going westward, full of high

hopes and aspirations, impatient to reach the goal which promised

him rest from his labors--now, returning unsuccessful, baffled, and

thwarted, when almost in sight of the end, and having to travel the same

path back on foot, with disappointed expectations and defeated hopes

preying on his mind, no wonder that the old brave spirit almost

succumbed, and the strong constitution almost went to wreck.

Livingstone arrived at Ujiji, October 16th, almost at death's door. On

the way he had been trying to cheer himself up, since he had found it

impossible to contend against the obstinacy of his men, with, "It won't

take long; five or six months more; it matters not since it cannot be

helped. I have got my goods in Ujiji, and can hire other people, and

make a new start again." These are the words and hopes by which he tried

to delude himself into the idea that all would be right yet; but imagine

the shock he must have suffered, when he found that the man to whom was

entrusted his goods for safe keeping had sold every bale for ivory.

The evening of the day Livingstone had returned to Ujiji, Susi and

Chuma, two of his most faithful men, were seen crying bitterly. The

Doctor asked of them what ailed them, and was then informed, for the

first time, of the evil tidings that awaited him.

Said they, "All our things are sold, sir; Sherif has sold everything for

ivory."

Later in the evening, Sherif came to see him, and shamelessly offered

his hand, but Livingstone repulsed him, saying he could not shake hands

with a thief. As an excuse, Sherif said he had divined on the Koran, and

that this had told him the Hakim (Arabic for Doctor) was dead.

Livingstone was now destitute; he had just enough to keep him and his

men alive for about a month, when he would be forced to beg from the

Arabs.

The Doctor further stated, that when Speke gives the altitude of the

Tanganika at only 1,800 feet above the sea, Speke must have fallen into

that error by a frequent writing of the Anne Domini, a mere slip of

the pen; for the altitude, as he makes it out, is 2,800 feet by boiling

point, and a little over 3,000 feet by barometer.

The Doctor's complaints were many because slaves were sent to him, in

charge of goods, after he had so often implored the people at Zanzibar

to send him freemen. A very little effort on the part of those entrusted

with the despatch of supplies to him might have enabled them to procure

good and faithful freemen; but if they contented themselves, upon the

receipt of a letter from Dr. Livingstone, with sending to Ludha Damji

for men, it is no longer a matter of wonder that dishonest and incapable

slaves were sent forward. It is no new fact that the Doctor has

discovered when he states that a negro freeman is a hundred times

more capable and trustworthy than a slave. Centuries ago Eumaeus, the

herdsman, said to Ulysses:

Jove fixed it certain, that whatever day Makes man a slave, takes half

his worth away.

We passed several happy days at Ujiji, and it was time we were now

preparing for our cruise on the Tanganika. Livingstone was improving

every day under the different diet which my cook furnished him. I could

give him no such suppers as that which Jupiter and Mercury received at

the cottage of Baucis and Philemon. We had no berries of chaste Minerva,

pickled cherries, endive, radishes, dried figs, dates, fragrant apples,

and grapes; but we had cheese, and butter which I made myself, new-laid

eggs, chickens, roast mutton, fish from the lake, rich curds and cream,

wine from the Guinea-palm, egg-plants, cucumbers, sweet potatoes,

pea-nuts, and beans, white honey from Ukaranga, luscious singwe--a

plum-like fruit--from the forests of Ujiji, and corn scones and dampers,

in place of wheaten bread.

During the noontide heats we sat under our veranda discussing our

various projects, and in the early morning and evening we sought the

shores of the lake--promenading up and down the beach to breathe the

cool breezes which ruffled the surface of the water, and rolled the

unquiet surf far up on the smooth and whitened shore.

It was the dry season, and we had most lovely weather; the temperature

never was over 80 degrees in the shade.

The market-place overlooking the broad silver water afforded us

amusement and instruction. Representatives of most of the tribes

dwelling near the lake were daily found there. There were the

agricultural and pastoral Wajiji, with their flocks and herds; there

were the fishermen from Ukaranga and Kaole, from beyond Bangwe, and

even from Urundi, with their whitebait, which they called dogara, the

silurus, the perch, and other fish; there were the palm-oil merchants,

principally from Ujiji and Urundi, with great five-gallon pots full of

reddish oil, of the consistency of butter; there were the salt merchants

from the salt-plains of Uvinza and Uhha; there were the ivory merchants

from Uvira and Usowa; there were the canoe-makers from Ugoma and Urundi;

there were the cheap-Jack pedlers from Zanzibar, selling flimsy prints,

and brokers exchanging blue mutunda beads for sami-sami, and sungomazzi,

and sofi. The sofi beads are like pieces of thick clay-pipe stem

about half an inch long, and are in great demand here. Here were found

Waguhha, Wamanyuema, Wagoma, Wavira, Wasige, Warundi, Wajiji, Waha,

Wavinza, Wasowa, Wangwana, Wakawendi, Arabs, and Wasawahili, engaged in

noisy chaffer and barter. Bareheaded, and almost barebodied, the youths

made love to the dark-skinned and woolly-headed Phyllises, who knew not

how to blush at the ardent gaze of love, as their white sisters; old

matrons gossiped, as the old women do everywhere; the children played,

and laughed, and struggled, as children of our own lands; and the old

men, leaning on their spears or bows, were just as garrulous in the

Place de Ujiji as aged elders in other climes.