TO THE ENGLISH MISSION STATION, SOUTH END OF VICTORIA NYANZA.
Ankori and Karagwé under two aspects--Karagwé; and the Alexandra
Nile--Mtagata Hot Springs--A baby rhinoceros, captured by the
Nubians, shows fight in camp--Disappearance of Wadi Asmani--The
Pasha’s opinion of Captain Casati--Surgeon Parke and the pigmy
damsel--Conduct of a boy pigmy--Kibbo-bora loses his wife at the
Hot Springs--Arrival at Kufarro--Recent kings of Karagwé--Kiengo
and Captain Nelson’s resemblance to “Speke”--The King of Uganda
greatly dreaded in Karagwé--Ndagara refuses to let our sick stay in
his country--Camp at Uthenga: loss of men through the cold--We
throw superfluous articles in Lake Urigi in order to carry the
sick--We enter the district of Ihangiro: henceforward our food has
to be purchased--The Lake of Urigi--At the village of Mutara,
Fath-el-Mullah runs amuck with the natives, and is delivered over
to them--The Unyamatundu plateau--Halt at Ngoti: Mwengi their
chief--Kajumba’s territory--We obtain a good view of Lake
Victoria--The country round Kisaho--Lions and human skulls in the
vicinity of our camp--The events of 1888 cleared our track for a
peaceful march to the sea--We reach Amranda and Bwanga--The French
missionaries and their stations at Usambiro--Arrival at Mr.
Mackay’s, the English Mission station--Mr. Mackay and his books--We
rest, and replenish our stores, etc.--Messrs. Mackay and Deakes
give us a sumptuous dinner previous to our departure--The last
letter from Mr. A. M. Mackay, dated January 5, 1890.
[Sidenote: 1889.
July 28.
Karagwé.]
A stranger entering Ankori or Karagwé in the dry season, and taking a
casual view around, and seeing only vast spaces made black with fire,
and lines and massive outcroppings of grey rock, long mountainous ridges
heaving one after another, all burnt up, and scorched to seeming
desolateness, would be apt to exclaim impatiently, “Show me one beauty
spot on the face of it!” This man is an old acquaintance of mine. He is
a spleeny, querulous, joyless fellow, of thin blood and aching liver. He
will go to the Congo, or to East Africa, or to Bechuanaland, and
standing on an ant-heap, he will ask with a sneer, “Do you call this
Africa? Pho!” Nevertheless, within three weeks after the fire which
burnt the sere grass, and gave the land an aspect of desolation, the
young grass is waving merrily, exulting in its youth, and beauty, and
greenness over mountain summit, slope, and valley, and these two
pasture-lands, renowned for the breeding of their cattle, really look
beautiful. I have seen them now under two aspects. To Ankori I give the
preference. In it are mighty extents of plain stretching in a hazy,
billowy manner, broken up here and there by humpy eminences, pap-like
hills, and dwarfish mounts, divided by tributaries of the Alexandra like
the Rwizi, or by feeders of the Albert Edward like the Rusango, and all
within curving lines of grand grass-covered ranges, which separate one
broad river basin from another. It seems as though all this was arranged
after some cunning plan, to meet the exigencies of exclusive tribes. The
plan has been defeated, however, for Antari reigns over the basins of
the Rwizi, the Namianja, the Rusango, and many another stream, despite
the mountainous dyke, and of late years he has annexed Mpororo country,
and if his power were equal to his ambition he would probably annex
Karagwé, and Koki, and Uddu, down to the Victoria Lake.
We are now in Karagwé. The Alexandra Nile--drawing its waters from
Ruanda, Mpororo, to the west; and from north, Uhha; and north-east,
Urundi and Kishakka--runs north along the western frontier of Karagwé,
and reaching Ankori, turns sharply round to eastward to empty into the
Victorian Sea; and as we leave its narrow valley, and ascend gradually
upward, along one of those sloping narrow troughs so characteristic of
this part of Central Africa, we camp at Unyakatera, below a mountain
ridge of that name, and like the view obtained from that summit two
score of times repeated, is all Karagwé. It is a system of deep narrow
valleys running between long narrow ranges as far as the eye can reach.
In the north of Karagwé they are drained by small streams which flow
into the Alexandra.
[Sidenote: 1889.
July 29.
Mtagata.]
The second day’s travel was terminated when we reached Mtagata hot
springs, which I have already described in ‘Through the Dark Continent.’
[Illustration: A HOT SPRING, MTAGATA. _(From a Photograph.)_]
[Illustration: BABY RHINOCEROS SHOWING FIGHT IN CAMP.]
Soon after reaching the camp our Nubians set out to hunt, for the land
is famous for rhinoceros, and being good shots, they dropped four of
these huge beasts, and captured a baby, which they brought to us. We
tied the baby, which was as large as a prize boar, to a tree, and he
fully showed what combativeness there was in his nature. Sometimes he
mistook the tree for an enemy, and rushed to the attack, battering it
with its horny nose until, perceiving that the tree obstinately resisted
him, he would halt to reconnoitre it, as though he had the intention of
assaulting it by another method; but at such times some wicked Zanzibari
boys prodded him in the hams with a reed cane, and uttering a startling
squeal of rage he would dash at the offenders to the length of his
tether. He seemed to me to be the stupidest, most ireful, intractable
little beastie that ever I had met. Feeling himself restrained by the
cord, he felt sure it must be the tree that was teasing him, and he
would make another dash at it with such vehemence that sent him on his
haunches; prodded, pricked in the rear, he squealed again, and swinging
round with wonderful activity, he would start headlong, to be flung on
his back by the rope; until at last, feeling that it would be only
misery to him to be carried to the coast, he was consigned to the
butcher and his assistants.
On the march of July 31st to Kirurumo, Wadi Asmani, a Zanzibari headman,
laid his rifle and box on the path, and disappeared without a word of
parting or warning to any person, with nearly thirty months’ pay due to
him, while in perfect condition of body and at peace with all the world.
[Sidenote: 1889.
July 31.
Kirurumo.]
Captain Casati was placed in a hammock and carried on account of
increasing weakness. The Pasha visited me, and related his opinion that
Casati was a curious man. Said he: “I have just come from seeing my
friend Casati; I found him lying on some grass, and the sunshine pouring
on his bare head with such heat that, even with my topee, I suffered
inconvenience. He has four women, besides two Manyuema and his young man
from our province. I asked him why he did not make his people build him
a shelter with banana leaves, for there were some within forty yards of
him. He replied, ‘I have no servants.’ I then said to him, ‘Why did you
not send for the bath-tub I promised you? You should avail yourself of
these hot springs.’ ‘True,'he replied, ‘but I have no people.’ ‘But you
have four stout female servants that I know of.’ ‘Yes,’ said he, ‘but I
don’t like to ask them to do anything lest they should say I work them
like slaves. They are widows, you know, and their husbands are dead,
etc.’”
The young pigmy damsel who had been with us for over a year began to
show symptoms of chronic ill health, and was left with the chief of
Kirurumo. The little thing had performed devoted service to Surgeon
Parke, who had quite won her heart with those soft gentle tones of his
that made everybody smile affectionately on the Doctor. She used to be
the guardian of his tent, and whenever the Doctor had to absent himself
for his duties she crouched at the door, faithful as a spaniel, and
would permit no intruder to approach the doorway. She performed her work
in the most unobtrusive manner, and she was the only one of her sex who
did not abuse the privileges we generally concede to women in the camp.
On the road she carried the Doctor’s satchel, and on nearing the
resting-place she was as industrious as a bee in collecting fuel, and
preparing the Surgeon’s cheering cup of tea, which after patient
teaching she learned was necessary for his well-being. There was a
little fellow of her tribe attached to another of the officers, who
never spoke a word to mortal being except to his master, was one of the
first to gain camp, collect the fuel, and make his fire. Though loaded
on the march he never appeared fatigued or worried, and never gave any
trouble. Sometimes when by his industry he had collected a stock of
fuel, and a big callous-hearted ruffian took it from the boy, he would
show his distress by his looks, but presently gathering courage he would
abandon it and collect another pile, as though time was too precious to
waste in useless argument over the inevitable. And thus the Pigmies
showed by their conduct that they were related to all that was best and
noble in human nature.
Kibbo-bora, a headman of the Manyuema, lost his wife at the Hot
Springs, and so great was his grief that he had to be restrained lest he
should commit suicide. Sitting apart in the gorge of Mtagata he howled
his laments during twenty-four hours, and his followers formed a chorus
to respond to his mournful cries. None of us had much sleep that night,
and thus we became involuntarily partakers of his woe. It was several
days before the poor fellow recovered from the shock.
Continuing our journey along those grassy ridges which run parallel to
deep narrow valleys in a S.S.E. and N.N.W. direction, almost invariably
across the breadth of Karagwé and Ruanda to the westward, in three
marches we arrived at Kafurro, a settlement that was once a favourite
resort of Arab traders.
As in Uganda, changes have taken place in Karagwé. Mtesa, first made
known to us by Captains Speke and Grant, has departed to the great
majority, and within fourteen years Mwanga, Kiwewa, Karema, and again
Mwanga, have sat on Mtesa’s throne. Rumanika, the gentle pagan, a
characteristic Mhuma, has gone too, to sleep only a little more
peacefully than he had lived. And after him came Kyensi, his eldest son,
who reigned only nine months. Then followed Kakoko, another son, who
usurped the throne and reigned for three years, and during that time
slew seventeen brothers, and put out the eyes of Luajumba, his youngest
brother. Then Ka-chikonju went in unto Kakoko as he lay on his bedstead
sodden with _malwa_, and drove his sharp spear twice through his breast,
and relieved the land of the tyrant. The same month Hamed bin Ibrahim,
who had lived in Karagwé many years trading in ivory, was murdered by
his son, Syed bin Hamed. The successor of Kakoko to the rights and
prerogatives of King of Karagwé is Ndagara, or Unyagumbwa, for he has
two names, who was now in his sixteenth year, and as the son of Kyensi
was the rightful heir.
[Sidenote: 1889.
Aug. 3.
Kafurro.]
The welcome extended to us through Ankori was extended to the Expedition
in our journey through Karagwé. On the road to Kafurro we had been
permitted to help ourselves to bananas and plantains, and as soon as
Ndagara was officially informed of our arrival, he despatched to camp a
sufficient supply of bananas, an ox, fowls, _malwa_, and some loads of
beans, sweet potatoes, and grain. In return I made him a present of a
Winchester, and a couple of coils of wire.
Kiengo, also the old guide of Speke and Grant, who accompanied them from
Unyanyembé to Unyoro, sent us an ox, bananas, fowls, and milk; and to
Captain Nelson, because he bore some resemblance to “Speki,” he gave a
fat broad-tailed sheep, and the only tax we had to pay was that on our
patience while listening to his reminiscences of “Speki,” which he was
never tired of repeating.
The King of Uganda is greatly dreaded in Karagwé. Before Mwanga was
deposed no stranger could pass through the land without obtaining his
sanction. The Waganda, after the death of Rumanika, had carried matters
with such a high hand that they also taxed Ndagara’s Arab guests with
the same freedom as they would have exacted toll in Uganda. Two years
before our arrival the Waganda were in force at Ndagara’s capital, and
at Kitangulé to command the ferries across the Alexandra Nile. They
found Bakari, a coast trader, occupying the place of Hamed Ibrahim at
Kafurro, and demanded from him twenty guns and twenty kegs of powder,
which he refused on the ground that he was a guest of the King of
Karagwé, and not of the King of Uganda; whereupon he and his principal
men were shot forthwith. Considering these things it is not likely we
should have had a peaceful passage through Karagwé had we adopted this
route for the relief of Emin, with such quantities of ammunition and
rifles as would have made Uganda so intractable that nothing but a great
military force would have been able to bring its king to reason.
It was clearly demonstrated what hold Uganda maintained in Karagwé, when
in obedience to a request from twenty-six of the Pasha’s people that I
should obtain permission of Ndagara for them to remain in the land
until they were cured of their ulcers, I sent word to the king that we
had several men and women unable to travel through excessive illness.
Ndagara returned a reply stating that on no consideration would he
permit the people to stay, as if it once reached the ears of the King of
Uganda that he allowed strangers to stay in his country, he would be so
exasperated that he would not only send a force to kill the strangers,
but that Karagwé would be ruined. His reply was given to the Pasha, and
he explained and argued with his wearied and sick followers, but, as he
said, they were resolved to stay, as they had only a choice of deaths,
and as we were already cruelly loaded, there was no help for it.
From Kafurro we moved to Rozaka on the 7th, and the next day marched
over dreary wastes of sere grass, in valley and on mountain. The morning
was very gloomy and threatened rain, and after we had filed along a tall
ridge in the face of a bitter and chilly wind, a drizzly sleet commenced
to fall, which paralysed the Pasha’s followers. The rearguard advancing
after the column saw symptoms of collapse among many cases, and its
commander, Captain Nelson, ordered a halt, and directed his men to make
fires, but before the freezing people could reach the warmth, many fell
down and stiffened, and becoming powerless had to be carried to the
fires and shampooed by the Zanzibaris, when they soon recovered. Five,
however, had perished from the cold before the hard-worked rearguard
could reach them. The head of the column, five miles ahead of the
rearguard, had spurred forward to gain shelter in the banana groves of
Uthenga basin, utterly beyond recall, as the habit of the Egyptians and
their followers was to dawdle along the road and place as much as a mile
or two between them and the porters, who by long experience had learned
that it was best to hurry to camp and be relieved of their burdens.
[Sidenote: 1889.
Aug. 10.
Urigi Lake.]
On the 10th we left Uthenga, and crossing two mountain ridges descended
800 feet to the narrow basin at the head of Urigi Lake, then traversed
the ancient bed, and winding along a road followed the east shore line
of the lake. On reaching camp, opposite to where the lake was about a
mile wide, we slaughtered nine head of cattle for meat rations, and
tossed two boxes of Remington ammunition into the water. We had already
relieved ourselves of African curios from the forest lands, and of every
superfluous article. We were now beginning to relieve ourselves of the
ammunition, to carry the sick refugees from the Equatorial Province.
On the 11th we passed out of Karagwé territory, and because of the
complimentary introductions from Ndagara we were welcomed in Ihangiro,
and were escorted from village to village until we halted at Kavari. But
here was the end of the free living. Every grain and banana would have
to be purchased henceforward. From the Albert Nyanza to this first
important district in Ihangiro, nearly 600 miles, the Expedition had
been supplied gratuitously and abundantly. It now behoved us to
distribute to each man, woman, and child in the Expedition supplies of
beads of various colours, red, white, blue, brown, and pink, of
porcelain and glass, and each person would barter these currencies for
food as he or she pleased. To people who were accustomed to eat five
days’ provisions in one day, it was imprudent to give more than four or
five days’ ration beads at a time. Had we given each person a month’s
allowance, which would have been a vast relief to our burdened carriers,
and a saving of some sick people’s lives--as we should have been enabled
to have carried more of them in hammocks--nine-tenths of our followers
would have expended their ration monies in purchasing only a little
grain, but vast quantities of _malwa_, fowls, and goats, and in ten days
they would have applied for more beads or cloth, and the Expedition
would have been halted, completely beggared.
[Sidenote: 1889.
Aug. 11.
Urigi Lake.]
The Lake of Urigi is pretty when seen from Useni or Kavari. At this
season its hilly frame is all brown, with little dots of dark green bush
scattered here and there; the water was of a light blue owing to a
bright blue sky. Its receding waters have left great extents of flat
plain on the sides and around the bays running far inland into valleys.
Its shores and waters are favourite haunts of birds, from cranes,
herons, and pelicans, to the small black _Parra Africana_, egrets and
waders, which find excellent feeding over the large spaces near the
extremities and shore line of bays, covered with close-packed growths of
_Pistia stratiotes_ plants, until they resemble green lawns from a
little distance off. Hippos abound, and, unfortunately, armies of black
mosquitoes. The eastern shore we found to be littered with bones of
slain animals, for the lions and hyenas, it is said, kill much game. A
large supply of fish is found in the lake, but they are infested with
guinea worm--at least those which we purchased were deemed quite
uneatable from that cause. The lake measures about twenty-five miles in
length by from one to three miles wide, and is sunk about 1200 feet
below the average level of the bare grassy hills around it.
[Illustration: LAKE URIGI.]
[Sidenote: 1889.
Aug. 12.
Mutara.]
From Kavari we journeyed along the lake shore to Mutara. No sooner had
we arrived than native men, women, and children visited us to barter
their surplus provisions of grain, honey, fish, malwa, fowls, and
bananas. The hard-headed Soudanese proceeded to the village of Mutara, a
mile off, and, unduly oblivious of the orders given the day before when
the beads were distributed, commenced to loot the village, more
especially for _malwa_ and beans. In a country where not the least
obstacle is placed in the way of travellers, and where they might
purchase anything of the product of the land for cash value, as much
surprise would be manifested as in Cairo or London at the sight of a mob
of men looting stores and markets. Consequently the natives
expostulated, and demanded to know what this conduct implied. For
answer, a Soudanese, Fathel Mullah, loaded his Remington and shot one
man dead, another in the jaw, and another in the leg. As this was
perfectly inexplicable to the natives, instead of avenging themselves
there and then, a body of fifty of them came to the camp as an orderly
deputation, to demand an explanation of me. The story appeared so
incredible that I sent an officer with them to see the dead man and
wounded, and the officer on his return reported that the story was true.
Then every man in the Expedition was mustered, the rolls were called,
Zanzibaris, Soudanese, Manyuema, Egyptians, and their followers, and the
natives were requested to walk all round the rude square, and point out
the man who had entered their village to run amuck while the women were
bartering in the camp, and after going searchingly about, five of them
pointed at Fathel Mullah. As this was not sufficient evidence even, the
question was addressed to the Soudanese, and his comrade Sururu stepped
out and described the circumstance that a native had tried to prevent
him taking a pot of _malwa_, whereupon, calling him _Abid_ and
_Kelb_--slave and dog--he shot him dead, and fired three or four times
at others indiscriminately.
“The man is yours--you can take him; but if you will sell him for
cattle, cloth, wire, beads, or anything else, I will buy him.”
“No, no, no, no; we don’t sell our people; not for a hundred cattle
would we part with him.”
“But what good will his blood be to you? You can’t eat him; he will not
work for you. Take five cattle for him.”
[Sidenote: 1889.
Aug. 13.
Ngoti.]
“No, no, no, no. We want him, for he has slain a chief man in our
village, and perhaps the others will die also. We will take him.”
“Take him, then; he does not belong to me, and has no right in my camp.”
He was marched away, and we never knew what became of him.
On the next day we struck away more easterly from Lake Urigi, over rough
stony ground, which was waterless and uninhabited, with numerous
ant-hills covered with sickly and dwarfed bush, a thin forest of
miserable acacia spreading out on either hand, leafless, decaying, and
dead. Within two hours we reached the base of Unya-Matundu plateau, and,
as the morning was yet early, we ascended to the summit, 1,200 feet
above Lake Urigi, travelled an hour over a rolling surface of pasture
land, through prosperous fields and scattered settlements, and halted at
Ngoti after four and a half hours’ march.
Mwengi, the chief, was a gigantic young Mhuma, tall as a guardsman, but
quiet and possessed, and his people obeyed him with alacrity. We
therefore halted to do a day’s bartering. A fine bunch of bananas could
be purchased for ten cowries, and as eight cowries constituted a day’s
ration allowance, no one could possibly complain of insufficient food.
An hour’s march beyond Ngoti we began to descend the eastern face of the
plateau, and 900 feet below reached a rolling plain covered with
leafless and sickly acacia, and were in the country of Uzinja.
[Sidenote: 1889.
Aug. 15.
Kimwani.]
We halted after five hours in Kimwani or Kizinga--Chief Kajumba’s
territory. The chief was another tall person of the Wahuma breed, at the
time suffering from ophthalmia. When the Waganda invaded his territory a
year ago he fled to Unya-Ruwamba, the Urigi district of Ihangiro, and
hid himself on an island in the lake, whence, after paying a tribute of
cattle to Uganda, he was permitted to return to his own land as a
subject of Mwanga, but to find his banana groves cut down and the land
well cleaned of every product. For the protection afforded him in his
distress, Ihangiro claims Kimwani as a district attached to it.
Kassasura, King of Usui, having invaded Kimwani and captured Kajumba and
held him a prisoner for two months, also lays claim to his allegiance.
Kajumba, was liberal to us, as he sent us eighty-one bunches of bananas,
one goat, and two pots of _malwa_. As he was on the verge of senility,
he was inclined to be despotic and querulous, and it may be imagined
that perhaps a small caravan would be differently treated.
Accompanied by guides from Kimwani we set out southward, and three miles
beyond Kajumba’s we obtained a charming view of Lake Victoria and the
islands Ikuta, Majinga, Soswa, Rumondo, and distant Mysomé, and near
noon we camped at Nyamagoju, at the south-west extremity of an arm of
the lake which receives the Lohugati, a periodical stream draining East
Usui.
The next day’s march was along a plain which extended from Nyamagoju to
another lake arm, at whose extremity we camped at a village called
Kisaho. Our route each day now was across flat extents of land, from
which the Lake had within twenty-five years or so receded. They are
covered over with low bush, which at this season is leafless. The ground
is dry, streamless, hard-baked and cracked, and shows a nitrous
efflorescence in many places. To our right, as the land rises, on ridges
over fifty feet above the Lake, we find a thin dwarf forest; at a
hundred feet elevation we see respectable trees, and grasses become more
nutritious.
[Sidenote: 1889.
Aug. 20.
Itari.]
[Illustration: SOUTHWEST EXTREMITY OF LAKE VICTORIA NYANZA.]
We cut across a broad cape-like formation of land and passed from the
bay of Kisaho to a bay near Itari on the 20th, and from the summit of a
high ridge near the latter place I perceived by compass bearings and
solar observation, that we were much south of the south-west coast line,
as marked on my map in “Through the Dark Continent.” From this elevated
ridge could be seen the long series of islands overlapping one another,
which, in our flight from the ferocious natives of Bumbiré in 1875,
without oars, had been left unexplored, and which, therefore, I had
sketched as mainland.
We find that the Wazinja call the Victoria Nyanza Muta Nzigé, as the
Wanyoro call the Albert Lake Muta Nzigé, and the Wasongora and
Wanyankori call the Albert Edward by the same name.
On leaving Itari we were made aware of lions having paid the vicinity of
our camp a visit by a dead zebra which had just been killed. We were
also astonished at the number of human skulls about, and when we asked
the guides the cause, we were informed that at Itari the Wazinja
endeavoured to oppose the Waganda during their late invasion. It may be
that the Wazinja deserved the cruel visitation. It is well known that
Usui needs a lesson like it. The last caprice of Kasasura has been to
halt a caravan of 150 guns.
As we reflected on the various events which appear to have occurred in
this region in 1887, the Waganda in force in Karagwé, audacious and
insolent, and shooting Arab traders, and invading Uzinja, and from
Kishakka to the Victoria Lake the land one seething area of strife and
bloodshed, it struck us that the events of 1888, the deposition of
Mwanga, the revolution and counter-revolution, were simply clearing our
track for a peaceful march to the sea.
It became impressed on us as we travelled over these dry, waterless
plains, with their nakedness scarcely hidden by dwarf acacia, and hardy
euphorbias, that the forest people were utterly unfit to be taken out of
their arboreal homes. Half of those who had accompanied us we had been
obliged to leave behind, and yet there had been no want of either food
or water. In the same manner the Somalis, Soudanese, Madis, or Baris,
when taken into the forest, soon became joyless, dull, and moping, and
died. And yet I have read in affectedly learned books that Africa was
only fit for the Africans!
[Sidenote: 1889.
Aug. 21.
Amranda.]
To my great surprise, and indeed delight, the Lake extended to 2° 48′
south latitude, which we ascertained on reaching Amranda on the 21st.
The highest elevation reached since leaving Nyamaagoju has not been
higher than 50 feet above the Lake, while immense tracts of as yet poor
flat country have been left bare by the recession of its waters, and
until many a season yet of rains has scoured the nitre out of these
plains they must remain mean and unproductive.
By a gradual rise from Amranda southward we escape after a few miles out
of the unlovely plains to older land producing a better quality of
timber. Before we were 100 feet above the Lake a visible improvement had
taken place, the acacia had disappeared, and the myombo, a tree whose
bark is useful for native cloth and for boxes, and which might be
adapted for canoes, flourished everywhere. At Bwanga, the next village,
the language of the Wahuma, which we had heard continually since leaving
the Albert Nyanza, ceases, and the Unyamwezi interpreters had now to be
employed, which fact the sceptical Zanzibaris hailed as being evidence
that we were approaching _Pwani_ (the coast).
And now we had to turn east, straight for the Mission House, which we
began to hear of as being in Usambiro. From Bwanga to Uyombi is a march
of 6¾ hours, thence another, Kamwaga, of 5 hours, thence to Umpeté, 5
hours, and from thence to the abandoned French Mission Station in
Usambiro in 6 hours. In the centre of the circular palisade was a neat
church, and above the roof of it was a simple cross, which instantly
suggested CHRIST and CIVILIZATION, words and thoughts to which I fear
most of us had been strangers for many months.
[Sidenote: 1889.
Aug. 27.
Usambiro.]
The French Missionaries, we must admit, are not to be excelled in the
art of building Stations and developing an appearance of comfort and
prettiness out of the most unpromising materials. Those who have
travelled the last three or four hundred miles with us will have seen
that I have been almost indifferent to the face of the land. We had
traversed it during the dry season, when it is difficult to find one
acre out of a million worth looking at, and yet equal to the unloveliest
of all was that occupied by this handsome Mission Station. There were
three rows of low earth-covered structures, forming three sides of a
spacious square, and in each row were four or five chambers neatly
plastered within and without with grey clay. Midway between the houses
were the church, excellently built out of materials in the vicinity; an
inner circle of palisades surrounded the civilized quarters, and an
outer circle protected the village of the proselytes. Nothing could be
better, considering that the myombo forest close by, and the soil around
them, furnished the materials, than the plan and execution of it. One
realised how patiently and with what love they must have laboured. There
were two faults in the place, however, which, had their faith not been
so great, they would have known before building. The natives were
cantankerous, hard-hearted, worldly Wanyamwezi, and there was no water,
and before they had quite completed the Station, the signal for retreat
and abandonment was given.
[Sidenote: 1889.
Aug. 28.
Victoria
Nyanza.]
The next day, having already sent messengers ahead, that we might not
take Mr. Mackay, of the Church Missionary Society, by surprise, we
arrived in view of the English Mission, which was built in the middle of
what appeared to be no better than a grey waste, on ground gently
sloping from curious heaps of big boulders, or enormous blocks thrown
higgledy-piggledy to the height of a respectable hill down to a marshy
flat green with its dense crops of papyrus, beyond which we saw a gleam
of a line of water produced from an inlet of the Victoria Nyanza. We
were approaching the Mission by a waggon track, and presently we came to
the waggon itself, a simple thing on wooden wheels, for carrying timber
for building. There was not a green thing in view except in the marsh;
the aspect was cheerless and melancholy, grass all dead, trees either
shrunk, withered, or dead, at least there was not the promise of a bud
anywhere, which was of course entirely due to the dry season. When we
were about half a mile off a gentleman of small stature, with a rich
brown beard and brown hair, dressed in white linen and a grey Tyrolese
hat, advanced to meet us.
“And so you are Mr. Mackay? Mwanga did not get you, then, this time?
What experiences you must have had with that man. But you look so well
one would say you had been to England lately.”
“Oh, no, this is my twelfth year. Mwanga permitted me to leave, and the
Rev. Cyril Gordon took my place, but not for long, since they were all
shortly after expelled from Uganda.”
Talking thus we entered the circle of tall poles within which the
Mission Station was built. There were signs of labour, and constant
unwearying patience, sweating under a hot sun, a steadfast determination
to do something to keep the mind employed, and never let idleness find
them with folded hands brooding over the unloveliness, lest despair
might seize them, and cause them to avail themselves of the speediest
means of ending their misery. There was a big, solid workshop in the
yard filled with machinery and tools, a launch’s boiler was being
prepared by the blacksmiths, a big canoe was outside repairing; there
were sawpits, and large logs of hard timber, there were great stacks of
palisade poles, in a corner of an outer yard was a cattle-fold and a
goat-pen, fowls by the score pecked at microscopic grains, and out of
the European quarter there trooped out a number of little boys and big
boys looking uncommonly sleek and happy; and quiet labourers came up to
bid us, with hats off, “Good Morning.” Now if there is anything on God’s
earth better calculated than work to make men happy, it must be with
some peculiar dispositions the knowledge that their work is ended.
Hence, when I entered the Mission House my soul was possessed with some
such feeling as this; at any rate before my mission was terminated the
welcome we received promised rest and relief.
[Illustration: STANLEY, EMIN, AND OFFICERS AT USAMBIRO.]
I was ushered into the room of a substantial clay structure, the walls
about two feet thick, evenly plastered, and garnished with missionary
pictures and placards. There were four separate ranges of shelves filled
with choice, useful books. “Allah ho Akbar,” replied Hassan, his
Zanzibari head-man, to me; “books! Mackay has thousands of books, in the
dining-room, bedroom, the church, everywhere. Books! ah, loads upon
loads of them!” And while I was sipping real coffee, and eating
home-made bread and butter for the first time for thirty months, I
thoroughly sympathised with Mackay’s love of books. But it becomes quite
clear why, amongst so many books, and children, and outdoor work, Mackay
cannot find leisure to brood and become morbid, and think of
“drearinesses, wildernesses, despair and loneliness.” A clever writer
lately wrote a book about a man who spent much time in Africa, which
from beginning to end is a long-drawn wail. It would have cured both
writer and hero of all moping to have seen the manner of Mackay’s life.
He has no time to fret and groan and weep, and God knows if ever man had
reason to think of “graves and worms and oblivion,” and to be doleful
and lonely and sad, Mackay had, when, after murdering his Bishop, and
burning his pupils, and strangling his converts, and clubbing to death
his dark friends, Mwanga turned his eye of death on him. And yet the
little man met it with calm blue eyes that never winked. To see one man
of this kind, working day after day for twelve years bravely, and
without a syllable of complaint or a moan amid the “wildernesses,” and
to hear him lead his little flock to show forth God’s loving kindness in
the morning, and His faithfulness every night, is worth going a long
journey, for the moral courage and contentment that one derives from it.
We stayed at the Mission Station from the 28th of August to the morning
of the 17th of September, and on the Europeans of the Expedition the
effect of regular diet and well-cooked food, of amiable society and
perfect restfulness, was marvellous.
We were rich in goods of all kinds, for in Mr. Mackay’s keeping since
Mr. Stokes brought them from the coast in 1888, we possessed about 200
loads of bulky currency and forty loads of preserved provisions. Thirty
loads of cloth were instantly distributed among the people on account,
at cost price, that each man might make amends during our rest for any
late privations. We had also fourteen pack-donkeys, which were delivered
to the Pasha’s followers, and the Pasha, Casati, and myself, were able
to purchase riding asses from the French Missionaries at Bukumbi, who
were good enough to visit us with valuable gifts of garden produce. From
their stores our officers were enabled to purchase very necessary
outfits, such as boots, slippers, shirts, and hats, which made them
presentable once more.
[Illustration: VIEW FROM MACKAY’S MISSION, LAKE VICTORIA (_from a
photograph_).]
We were also able to obtain about twenty carriers, to assist in the
carriage of goods, that more of our Zanzibaris might be detailed for
hammock service; and yet after a stay of nineteen days, with as much
food as they could eat, and as great a variety as the country--by no
means badly stocked--could provide, when they were mustered for the
march the day before leaving Makolo’s, there were over one hundred
people who complained of asthma, chest, spleen, liver, or lumbar pains,
and declared they could not travel.
The evening before the day we resumed our journey for the sea Messrs.
Mackay and Deakes, the only two members of the Mission at present at
Makolo’s (Messrs. Gordon and Walker having just departed for Uganda
before we arrived) gave us a sumptuous dinner, roast beef, roast fowl,
stews, rice and curry, plum-pudding, and a bottle of medical wine. And
as is the custom in civilised lands, speeches terminated the banquet. It
fell to my share to propose the health of Emin Pasha, and to Mr. Mackay
to propose mine, and there was no member then present who was not the
recipient of most friendly wishes on the part of everybody else,
delivered, as I thoroughly believe, in perfect sincerity.
_The last letter from_ MR. A. M. MACKAY.
“USAMBIRO,
“_January 5th, 1890._
“MY VERY DEAR SIR,
“I have no less than three valuable letters from you, viz., two
dated Usongo, and one from Ugogo. The last arrived here on 1st
December.
“Since the French priests passed this way to overtake your
Expedition, I have not sent off a post to the coast.
“I was most pleased to hear of your satisfactory progress; and
doubtless you are, by this time, comfortably housed in civilized
territory, and enjoying a more than well-earned rest after the
fatigues and privations of African travel. If any man merits the
congratulations of Europe, certainly you do. But you will likely
soon be sick of being fêted everywhere, and in disgust, retire into
some out-of-the-way corner to write the full account of your
remarkable adventures. What a strange loneliness hung about this
place--physically and mentally--after you left, goes without
saying. The looked-for mail did not come; only the carriers
returned from Kisokwé, on October 23rd, without any letters from
the coast. Although on December 1st we got a batch of letters, but
no papers or magazines. These will come some time.
“Deakes has been a good deal unwell, but now fully recovered, while
the commencement of the rains has laid up nearly all my colony of
Baganda with protracted low fever. Your man, Ali bin Said, died on
September 27th, and one of the Pasha’s whites, Mohammed Arabi, died
on October 20th. The others, eight in number, have all fully
recovered, and are at work.
“I have fitted up my steam engine, and find pumps complete, and
also riveted the boiler, both outer shell and firebox. The boiler
has been a serious job, as fourteen years of knocking about have
thrown every plate out of shape, besides turning the iron,
originally of ‘Best’ brand, with a brittle, steely sort of thing,
which determined to crack on the first touch of a hammer. But by
carefully annealing the whole, I have succeeded. I am now rigging
up a steam saw-mill, to cut up the planks for the new boat. The
rough boat, or transformed canoe, which you saw here in progress,
is now nearly finished, and should have been completed some time
ago; but I have not been able to look after it, owing to occupation
at other work, including printing for Buganda.
“You will have heard that, after severe fighting, the Christians
defeated Kalema and his Arab party, and have replaced Mwanga on the
throne. They have taken possession of all the chieftainships for
themselves, equally dividing them between the Roman Catholics and
the Protestants. An active young fellow named Kagwa Apollo, a pupil
of my own, is now the Katekiro.
“Mwanga is altogether in the hands of the new Christian chiefs, and
they do not seem likely to allow him to have his own way any more.
Five of the Frenchmen, including their Bishops, are now there,
while our Mission is represented by only Walker and Gordon.
“I can hear nothing of the I. B. E. A. Co., except the old report
of February from Zanzibar, that they were at Ulu. They seem to
require a man of determination and pluck at their head; and my joy
will be great when I hear of your undertaking to put their affairs
on a sound footing. I am glad to hear of Mr. Mackinnon being
knighted. He well deserves the honour. I have written to his agents
in Zanzibar, explaining the absurdity of their acceding to
Germany’s wish to draw the boundary-line west of this Lake, along
the 1st parallel of S. Lat., as that would cut the kingdom of
Buganda into two halves; for Karagwé, Usui, and Usinja, as far
south as Serombo, are actually part of Buganda, being tributary to
it. No _paper_ delimitation, made in Berlin or London, can ever
remove these states from their allegiance to Buganda. Therefore,
there need be little jealousy about the matter. The only fair
boundary-line that I can see would be from this end of the long
creek (Smith Sound) diagonally S.W. to the intersection of the 4th
parallel with the 32nd degree of E. long., and then straight west
to Bikani on the Tanganika.
“Many chiefs to the S.W. have been visiting here personally, and
others sending; and I mean to send these letters their way to Uyin,
as the wretched Nindo people are too grasping for my taste.
“I sent cloth, etc., to Nindo, to redeem your rifle taken from your
messenger; but the rascally Mwanangwa has stuck to both ransom and
rifle, under pretext of some quarrel with Stokes; so I give that
crew a wide berth.
“I hear, on good authority, that the Banyoro, whom you fought, were
not a chance raiding gang, but Kabba-Rega’s own army, which he sent
expressly to check your advance. He was so terrified at the defeat
of his troops that he took refuge on an island in the Albert Lake.
Mwanga sent here a deputation, a month after you left, craving your
assistance.
“The Arabs seem now completely discomfited, and have fled from
Nagu. Said bin Saif’s (Kipanda) dhow, with a cargo of guns and kegs
of powder, was captured by Mwanga’s people, and the vessel
destroyed. Sunguru’s likewise. Stokes’ boat is, at this moment, the
only one on the Lake. The _Eleanor_ I have cut up, as being too
rotten for further use, but hope soon to launch the other boat,
which may do good service till I get the steam launch afloat.
“I have no definite news of the coast. I only heard of the
re-establishment of the Germans at Mpwapwa. Surely, they will learn
wisdom in time, but hitherto, they have made a sorry hash of
matters. I only hope they and the English will keep the gunpowder
out. In no other way will they ever be able to exercise any control
on the chiefs in the Interior.
“‘To be, or not to be; that is the question.’ Is it to be a track
to the Lake or not? I see in you the only hope for this region, in
your getting Sir W. Mackinnon to see the matter in its true light.
I would not give sixpence for all the Company will do in half a
century to come, unless they join the Lake with the coast by a
line, let it be at first ever so rough. When they have got that,
they will have broken the backbone of native cantankerousness.
“Very many thanks for your kindness in proposing to leave the
theodolite for me at Kisokwe. I hope it will come this far in
safety. I shall value it doubly as a souvenir from your hands.
“With very best wishes,
“Believe me ever,
“My dear Sir,
“Yours faithfully,
(Signed) “A. M. MACKAY.
“H. M. STANLEY, Esq.”
To my great grief, I learn that Mr. Mackay, the best missionary since
Livingstone, died about the beginning of February. Like Livingstone, he
declined to return, though I strongly urged him to accompany us to the
coast.