THE JOURNEY TO THE COAST
We reached Umtali on October 24, just a month after leaving Fort
Salisbury. We were distinctly weary and wayworn, and having had but
little food of late we partook of the refreshments kindly set before us
by the officers of the Chartered Company with, to us, unparalleled
heartiness. At Umtali we pitched our tents near a stream with every
intention, as time would permit, of taking a few days of rest and
retrospect before starting on the arduous journey down to the coast.
We had now travelled through the greater part of Mashonaland, as, I
suppose, the new country must inevitably be called; we had studied the
archæology and anthropology of the districts through which we had
passed with all the diligence that hard travelling and hard work would
allow. Mr. Swan had constructed a map of the route from observations
and bearings taken at every possible opportunity by day and by night;
and at the same time we had formed opinions on the country from our own
point of view, perhaps all the more unbiassed because we were not in
search of gold, neither had we pegged out any claims for future
development.
That the country is a magnificent one, apart from gold, I have no
hesitation in saying. Any country in such a latitude, and at such an
elevation, well watered, with prolific soil, healthy and bracing, if
ordinary comforts are attainable, could not fail to be. The scenery is
in many parts, as I have previously described, very fine; there is
abundance of timber, excellent prospects for cereals, and many kinds of
ore exist which will come in for future development; and gold is there
too. On that point I am perfectly satisfied; whether in large or small
quantities, whether payable or unpayable, is a matter which can only be
decided by years of careful prospecting and sinking of shafts, not by
hasty scratching on the surface or the verdict of so-called ‘experts’
after a hurried visit. That gold was there in very large quantities is
also certain, from the vast acres of alluvial soil, turned over, and
the countless shafts sunk in remote antiquity.
To carry out what is necessary for this possible future development,
or, perhaps, to speak more correctly, resuscitation of this country, an
easy access is indispensable, and the great check to this progress
hitherto has been the absence of railways in South Africa on the
eastern seaboard, the natural and easiest entrance to the country being
in the hands of the listless Portuguese. Progress is impossible with
Kimberley as a base of operations and a thousand miles trek over
difficult and swampy roads before the scene of action is reached. In
Western America the railway is the first thing, development comes next;
and inasmuch as the Chartered Company have tried the converse of
this—to put the cart before the horse, to use a familiar simile—they
have met with innumerable difficulties at the very outset.
Having entered the country by the weary waggon-road through
Bechuanaland, and having left it by the now somewhat arduous Pungwe
route, I can confidently affirm that this latter is the only possible
route; and I now propose to describe it as it at present exists,
feeling sure that in years to come, when the railway hurries the
traveller up to Umtali, when the venomous tsetse-fly no longer destroys
all transport animals, when lions cease to roar at night, and the game
has retired to a respectful distance, a back glimpse at the early days
of this route will be historically interesting.
Umtali is the natural land terminus of this route, as Beira is its
legitimate port. Umtali, so called from a rivulet which flows below it,
was, when we were there, a scattered community of huts, now brought
together in a ‘township’ at a more favourable spot, about five miles
distant from the former site, which township the British South Africa
Company hope to call Manica, and to make it the capital of that portion
of Manicaland which they so dexterously, to use an Africander term,
‘jumped’ from the Portuguese. Of all their camps Umtali was the most
favourably situated that we visited, enjoying delicious air, an
immunity from swamps and fevers, lovely views, and many flowers. On the
ridge, where the camp huts stood exposed to the violent and prevailing
blasts of the south-east winds, which descend in furious gusts from the
surrounding mountains, stood also the guns taken from the Portuguese,
nine in all, and presenting a formidable enough appearance, until we
learnt that they were useless then, for the pins were abstracted before
capture. Far away on the hill slopes were the huts of the original
settlers; the bishop’s palace likewise, a daub hut standing in the
midst of a goodly mission farm. The hospital, with the sisters’ huts,
crowned another eminence, and the newly made fort stood on the highest
point, from which glorious views could be obtained over the sea of
Manica mountains, the rich red soil and green vegetation, so pleasant a
change to the eye after the everlasting grey granite kopjes of
Mashonaland and its uniform vegetation.
Of ancient Portuguese remains there are several in the neighbourhood of
Umtali fort, where centuries ago the pioneers held their own for awhile
against native aggression. To-day, if you dine at the officers’ mess at
Umtali, you find evidences of Portugal of another nature. You sit on
Portuguese chairs and feed off Portuguese plates obtained from the loot
at Massi-Kessi; and when the governor of that district came to pay an
amicable visit to the governor of Umtali, they had nothing to seat him
on save his own chairs, nothing to feed him off save his own plates,
and nothing to give him to eat save his own tinned meats. But
Portuguese politeness rose to the occasion, and no remarks were made.
Crossing a stream below the fort, we found ourselves amidst a
collection of circular daub huts and stores, on either side of what a
facetious butcher, who dealt largely in tough old transport oxen, had
termed in his advertisement ‘Main Street.’ Here you might pay enormous
prices for the barest necessities of life, and drink at old Angus’s bar
a glass of whisky at the same price you could get a bottle for in
England. Scotch is the prevailing accent here, and I think the greatest
gainers out of Mashonaland, in the first year of its existence, were
those canny traders who loaded waggons with jams and drink, and sold
them at fabulous prices to hungry troopers and thirsty prospectors. Old
Angus was a typical specimen of this class, a sandy-haired little
Scotchman, well up in colonial ways, who kept two huts, in one of which
eating, drinking, and gossip were always to be found; whilst the other
was divided into three bare cells, and called an hotel.
Such was the first Umtali, primitive and fascinating in its rawness.
Now these huts are abandoned to the rats and the rain, and a new Umtali
of doubtful expansion has been built five miles away.
Our journey from Umtali to Beira was one which required much
forethought. First, we had much luggage, which we did not wish to leave
behind or bury on the way, as others had been obliged to do; secondly,
my wife did not feel inclined to do the one hundred and eighty miles on
foot, through heat and swamp, in tropical Africa; and thirdly, the
Kaffir bearers were scarce, and especially—at that season of the year,
when their fields wanted ploughing—apt to run away at awkward moments.
So the services of the homely ass were brought into requisition. The
ass would die of the fly-bite, everyone told us, but not until it had
deposited us safely in Beira. Consequently our eleven asses were
retained in our service and considered in the light of the railway
tickets of the future, to be used and thrown away. It seemed horribly
cruel, I must admit, to condemn eleven asses to certain death; but
then, what are animals made for but to lay down their lives to satisfy
the requirements of man in his dire emergencies?
A cart was constructed on two firm wheels, the wonder of its day. Eight
donkeys were harnessed therein, with gear made out of every imaginable
scrap. Three donkeys trotted gaily by its side, to be brought into
requisition in case of sore backs and other disasters; and one wet
evening we despatched our hopeful cart with our blessing on its road to
the coast. It would take three or four days getting by the waggon-road
to Massi-Kessi, whilst we could cross the mountains in one. So next
morning, we on foot and my wife on horseback, started by the mountain
road for Massi-Kessi, and got there as evening was coming on. A good
walk in any of the mountainous districts of the British Isles would
have been just the same. A drenching mist obscured every vision, the
paths were slippery and uneven; occasionally a glimpse at a stream with
bananas waving in the mist, or at a Kaffir kraal, would dispel the
homelike illusion, and bring us back to Africa again. Towards evening
the aggravating mist cleared away, and gave us a splendid panorama of
the surrounding mountains as we approached Massi-Kessi and entered the
valley of the River Revwe. Just here we walked for miles over ground
which had been worked for alluvial gold in the olden days, the soil
being honeycombed with low holes, and presenting the appearance of a
ploughed field with circular furrows.
Certainly the Portuguese, or rather the Mozambique Company, are to be
congratulated on the possession of such a paradise as this Revwe
Valley—fertile in soil, rich in water, glorious in its views over
forest-clad mountains; and it is not to be wondered at that they keenly
resented the temporary appropriation of it. Massi-Kessi and its
neighbourhood are rich in reminiscences of the Portuguese past; the new
fort, where the new company has its store, was built out of the remains
of an old Portuguese fort, around which you may still pick up fragments
of Nankin porcelain, relics of those days, now long since gone by, when
the Portuguese of Africa, India, and the Persian Gulf lived in the lap
of luxury, and fed off porcelain brought by their trading-ships from
China. Higher up in the mountain valleys are forts and roads of this
occupation. As in the Persian Gulf, as in Goa and elsewhere, the
Portuguese influence vanished in East Africa after her union with Spain
and the consequent drafting off of her soldiers to the wars in
Flanders; barely a phantom of her former power remained to her in the
province of Mozambique. A few futile expeditions under Barretto,
Fernandez, and others were destroyed either by the natives or by fever,
during one of which the legend is still told that the defenders of this
fort of Massi-Kessi were obliged to cast bullets out of gold nuggets
when cheaper material came to an end. After this the inland country was
practically abandoned to the savages. Old treaties existed but were not
renewed; lethargy seemed to have taken entire possession of the few
remaining Portuguese who were left here, a lethargy from which they
were rudely awakened by the advent of the Chartered Company. What
better argument do we want for the reoccupation of this country by a
more enterprising race than these forts abandoned and in ruins, and the
treaties with savage chiefs long since neglected—consigned to the
national archives? The little episode of Massi-Kessi is certainly one
which deserves to be engraven on our national records, though it arose
from a mistake, and the ground gained had ultimately to be abandoned;
nevertheless these facts do in no way detract from the bravery of the
Chartered Company’s men.
Forty Englishmen of troop A, under the command of Captain Hayman, were
stationed about 1,500 yards from the fort at one o’clock on the day of
the fight. Messengers were sent from the Portuguese bidding them
retire, but Captain Hayman said his orders were to the contrary, and he
could not. Thereupon the Portuguese force, mustering 150 white men and
300 blacks, advanced, and the action began. At five o’clock they
retreated, with many killed and wounded, but not one single Englishman
suffered. Next morning our troops were surprised to find that the
Portuguese flag was not up, and on marching to the fort they found it
abandoned. Here it was that they took the guns we had seen at Umtali
and 110,000 rounds of ammunition. The victorious troops pushed on as
far as Chimoia’s, and would have driven the Portuguese out of the
country had they not then been met by orders to retreat. Massi-Kessi
was also eventually abandoned, and by the recent treaty is included in
the dominions of the Portuguese Chartered Company. In the store,
however, one of the B.S.A. troopers carved the following memento of his
visit before taking his departure:—
R V I
A TROOP
1 B.S.A.C.P.
20 Nov. ’90.
The tradition of good living is still maintained by the Portuguese
officials at Massi-Kessi. Never saw I a greater contrast in seventeen
miles than that offered by the fare provided at the British camp at
Umtali, and that placed before us by the kind Portuguese commandant at
Massi-Kessi; here we had six courses of meat and excellent wines, and
other, to us, unwonted luxuries. They have farms for vegetables, and
many head of cattle around; they have their natives under complete
control, and make them work; they build large roomy huts, but the
commandant’s apologies because we had to sit on wooden boxes, not on
chairs, made us blush, for we knew that the said chairs were there
once, but now were gracing the British mess-room at Umtali.
When speaking of roughing it in the interior, the want of food and the
necessaries of life, Commandant Béthencourt was slightly sarcastic.
‘What strange people you English are to do such things!’ he said. ‘We
Portuguese might, perhaps, do them for our country, but for a
Company—never!’
Now we started in good earnest for the coast, refreshed by our three
days’ rest at Massi-Kessi under the kind roof of the Portuguese; our
cart had arrived, and our eleven donkeys and men looked fit, despite
the evil road they had had to traverse.
Two roads from here were open to us to Beira—one by the Pungwe, the
other by the Buzi River. We hesitated somewhat in our choice, for the
latter, we were told, was less swampy, and the fertile district of
Umliwan would have interested us—where they grow the best tobacco in
these parts, and the prospects of which for agricultural purposes, they
said, are brilliant; but, as the season was growing late, and the rains
might come on any day, we decided on taking the quicker and more
frequented route. Moreover, we were anxious to witness for ourselves
the calamities which had befallen Messrs. Heany and Johnson on their
pioneer route, and to form our own opinion as to its possibility for
the future.
Our first halt was at the Mineni River, a tributary of the Revwe, which
we reached after an easy journey, marked only by the upsetting of our
cart when we least expected it, an accident which occurred for the
first and only time. The Mineni is a rapid stream, flanked by rich
tropical vegetation, with graceful bamboos and lovely ferns overhanging
the water; it supplied a deficiency we had long felt in Mashonaland
scenery, namely, water in conjunction with mountains and rich
vegetation. The greens are peculiarly vivid here, and the red young
leaves of some of the trees give the appearance of autumnal tints, and
form a feature peculiar to African landscape. In its rocky bed we dared
to bathe without fear of crocodiles, an ever-present terror to those
who venture into the sluggish sandy pools of Eastern Africa.
Messrs. Heany and Johnson undoubtedly did good work in preparing their
road, for which work we probably are the only people who are devoutly
thankful, for ours is the only wheeled vehicle which has traversed it
in its entirety since the single pioneer coach went up to Umtali, after
infinite difficulty and weeks of disaster, with such sorry tales of
fever, fly, and swamp, that no waggons have since ventured to repeat
the experiment. The trees which they had cut down, and the culverts
which they had made over the dongas, assisted us materially, and we
stepped along our road right merrily.
The farther we went the more reason we had to be thankful for our frail
cart and homely asses. Others we passed in dire distress whose bearers
had deserted them, and who could not find more: we overtook one party
holding solemn conclave as to what they should throw away, what they
should bury, and what they could possibly manage to take on. Boxes,
containing liquor, clothes, and other commodities which could be
dispensed with, are frequently found on the road, telling their tale of
desertion by bearers and acute misery of the possessors.
He who first started the evil plan of paying these dark bearers in
advance ought for ever to be held up to public obloquy. The Kaffir,
doubtless, has been often cheated by the white man, for many
unscrupulous individuals have traversed this road from Umtali to Beira,
and the black man was wise in his generation when he insisted on
payment before undertaking the journey; but now he has too dangerous an
opportunity for retaliation, of which he takes frequent advantage, and
many are the cases of desertion at awkward points. A white man,
stricken with fever, had to pay his bearers over and over again before
he could persuade them to go on; the Sisters on their way to Umtali
were deserted at Chimoia; and at the season of the year when the fields
are to be ploughed they develop a still greater tendency to this
unscrupulous behaviour.
The Portuguese manage their affairs far better than we do. Troops of
so-called convicts are shipped from their West African provinces to
those on the east coast, and vice versâ, so that in both places they
have ready-made slaves to carry their baggage and their mashilas, or
travelling hammocks. The Portuguese word is law with their black
subjects, whereas the unfortunate Englishman has to pay 25s. or 2l. for
a bearer, who will carry sixty pounds, but will desert when the fancy
takes him. Furthermore, the Englishman dare not treat his nigger as he
deserves; if he did, he would be had up at once before the Portuguese
magistrates, and be sure to get the worst of it. Before the Pungwe
route can be made available, even for the lightest traffic, this order
of things must cease. The native bearer is undoubtedly a fine specimen
of humanity. He will carry on his head weights of surprising size,
which it requires two men to lift up to its exalted position; he runs
along at a rapid pace, and does his twenty-five to thirty miles a day
with infinite ease; and if the desertion and payment question were
settled, there would not be so many thousands of pounds’ worth of
valuable stuff spoiling at Beira, and much wanted at Umtali. Each chief
ought to be compelled to supply a fixed number of bearers at a fixed
tariff, and cases of desertion should be severely punished. But the way
to do this is not clear as yet, for the Portuguese do not wish it, and
to the British mind this form of compulsory labour might savour too
much of slavery.
With our cart we did eighteen and twenty miles a day; quite far enough
for the pedestrian in this warm climate. The first hour’s walk, from 6
to 7 A.M., was always delicious, before the full power of the sun was
felt; the rest of the day was atrociously hot, especially when our road
led us through steaming tropical forests and rank vegetation. Luckily
for us at this season of the year the long grass in the open veldt was
all burnt, and the stifling experience of walking through eight or ten
feet of grass and getting no view whatsoever was spared us.
Shade for our midday halts was always precarious. African trees have
the character of giving as little shade as possible, and this we found
to be invariably the case. Luckily, water is everywhere abundant, and
we could assuage our thirst with copious draughts of tea.
The native kraals on this road are highly uninteresting; the
inhabitants are wanting altogether in that artistic tendency displayed
in Mashonaland, which showed itself in carved knives, snuff-boxes, and
weapons. A chief named Bandula occupies a commanding position on a high
range which we passed on our left, at the foot of which flows a stream
called the Lopodzi, which delighted us with its views over the
Nyangombwe Mountains, and offended us with its swampy banks, where the
frogs croaked as loud as the caw of the rooks in our woods at home.
Chimoia’s kraal is a sort of half-way halt, where all waggons are now
left before entering the much-dreaded ‘fly belt;’ and here my wife
parted reluctantly with her horse, and transferred herself and her
saddle to the back of one of the three loose asses which accompanied
our cart. Most people seem to have two or three asses in their train,
for fear of being utterly helpless in case of the desertion of their
blacks, and all are prepared for their ultimate demise, either by the
violence of the lion or the bite of the fly. One ass at Chimoia’s
distinguished itself by seizing its master’s sugar-bag, and consuming
it and its contents with all the greater avidity when the master and
his stick turned up. All laughed; but all who had experienced the great
calamity of being without sugar in this land felt deep compassion for
the victim.
Chimoia’s is a scattered kraal, poor and destitute: clusters of round
huts with low eaves, and doors through which one has to crawl on hands
and knees.
We could get no meal here, as everyone had told us we should, and when
talking over our supplies the faces of our men grew long and anxious;
and if it had not been for the kindness of other white men whom we met
on our way down, famine would have been added to our other discomforts;
but good fellowship and spontaneous liberality are the characteristics
of all those Englishmen who have been up country, and at one time or
another known what it is to be without food. At Chimoia’s ends the
pleasant traffic in beads and cloth, which for months past had kept our
money in our pockets. Here a rupee is asked for every commodity; and
some day surprising hoards of these coins will be found in the Kaffir
kraals near the coast, for they never spend them, neither do they wear
them as ornaments, and it is a marvel to all what they do with them.
The vegetation is very fine around Chimoia’s, and the land appears
wonderfully fertile. On the top of a strangely serrated ridge of
mountains behind the village is a deserted Portuguese fort, and a
flagstaff with nothing floating therefrom.
Beyond Chimoia’s the streams grow more sluggish, and emit more fœtid
odours, suggestive of fevers. Ragged-leaved bananas, bamboos, and
tree-ferns luxuriate in all these streams, which work their way in deep
channels, or dongas, across the level country.
The fall is now scarcely perceptible, and the long flat belt which
girdles Africa is entered, the much-dreaded low veldt, teeming with
swamps, game, and tsetse-fly. At one time you are walking through a
forest of bamboos, making graceful arches overhead with their long
canes, and recalling pictures of Japan; at another time you go through
palm forests, and then comes a stretch of burning open country; and at
night-time, for the first time, we heard the lions roar. We lighted
huge camp-fires and trembled for the safety of our eleven donkeys, for
which animals lions are supposed to have a particular predilection.
Mandigo’s kraal is twenty-four miles from Chimoia’s, and to us was
equally uninteresting and equally unproductive of the much-needed
supplies. Some say the fly only begins here, and certainly we saw none
ourselves till after Mandigo’s; and from here to Sarmento we saw plenty
of it. The tsetse-fly is grey, about the size of an ordinary horse-fly,
with overlapping wings. Our donkeys, poor things, got many bites, and
we felt grieved at their prospective deaths. We provided them with the
only remedy of which we could hear, namely, a handful of salt every
night; but how this is supposed to act in counter-acting the bite of
the fly I am at a loss to imagine.
Certainly this fly has many peculiarities. All domesticated
quadrupeds—horses, oxen, and dogs—die from it when brought up country;
whereas zebras, buffaloes, and native curs flourish amongst it with
impunity, and its bite has not so much effect upon human beings as that
of a common midge.
Ample evidence of the ravages of this venomous insect are visible on
the roadside. Dozens of waggons lie rotting in the veldt, bearing
melancholy testimony to the failure of Messrs. Heany and Johnson’s
pioneer scheme. Everywhere lie the bleaching bones of the oxen which
dragged them; and at Mandigo’s is an abandoned hut filled to
overflowing with the skins of these animals, awaiting the further
development of the Pungwe traffic to be converted into ropes, or reims,
as they are usually termed in South Africa. Fully 2,000l. worth of
waggons, we calculated, as we passed by on one day’s march, lies in the
veldt, ghostlike, as after a battle.
Then there are Scotch carts of more or less value, and a handsome Cape
cart, which Mr. Rhodes had to abandon on his way up to Mashonaland,
containing in the box seat a bottle labelled ‘Anti-fly mixture,’ a
parody on the situation.
But the greatest parody of all is at Sarmento itself, a Portuguese
settlement on the banks of the Pungwe. Here two handsome coaches, made
expressly in New Hampshire, in America, for the occasion, lie deserted
near the Portuguese huts. They are richly painted with arabesques and
pictures on the panels; ‘Pungwe route to Mashonaland’ is written
thereon in letters of gold. The comfortable cushions inside are being
moth-eaten, and the approaching rains will complete the ruin of these
handsome but ill-fated vehicles. Meanwhile the Portuguese stand by and
laugh at the discomfiture of their British rivals in the thirst for
gold. Even the signboard, with ‘To Mashonaland,’ is in its place; and
all this elaborate preparation for the pioneer route has been rendered
abortive by that venomous little insect the tsetse-fly. In his zeal to
carry out his contract, Major Johnson committed a great error and
entailed an enormous amount of misery when he telegraphed that the
Pungwe route was open, and circulated advertisements to that effect,
giving dates and hours which were never carried out.
Heaps of people, for the most part poor and impecunious, flocked to
this entrance to their Eldorado, and after waiting without anything and
in abject misery at Chimoia’s had to return to Mapanda’s, where the
condition of affairs was desperate—people dying of fever, the doctor
himself ill, and no food, for the Portuguese governor of Neves
Ferreira, Colonel Madera, boycotted the English and forbade the natives
to bring them provisions. Assistance was brought to them by Dr. Todd,
of the Magicienne; but many died, and the rest, disappointed and
penniless, had to return to Capetown.
The River Pungwe is imposing at Sarmento, its bed being nearly two
hundred yards across, and the view of the reaches up and down from the
verandah where the Portuguese governor has his meals al fresco is
fairly striking. But the Pungwe is imposing nowhere else where we saw
it, being a filthy, muddy stream, flowing between mangrove swamps,
relieved occasionally by a tall palm and villages on piles; the
surroundings are perfectly flat, and its repulsive waters were until
lately plied only by the tree canoes of the natives. Crocodiles and
hippopotami revel in its muddy waters, and on its banks game is
abundant enough to satisfy the most ardent sportsman. Deer of every
conceivable species are to be seen still quietly grazing within shot of
the road; buffaloes, zebras, lions, hyenas, wild pigs, nay, even the
elephant, may be found in this corner of the world. Disappointed as the
sportsman may have been with the results of his exploits in Mashonaland
and the high veldt, he will be amply rewarded for the fatigues of his
journey to Beira by finding himself in a country which would appear to
produce all the kinds of wild animals that came to Adam for their
names. One herd of zebra, numbering about fifty, stood staring at us so
long, at a distance of not more than a hundred yards, that we were able
to photograph them twice. The flesh of the zebra is eatable, and we,
with our limited larder, greatly enjoyed a zebra steak when one was
shot. A little farther on a gnu, or blue hartebeest, as the Dutchmen
call it, stood and contemplated us with almost as much curiosity as we
manifested in seeing him so near our path. But, for my part, no amount
of game or quaint tropical sights would compensate for the agonies of
the walk from Sarmento to Mapanda’s across the shadeless burning plain,
beneath a torrid, scorching sun. Now and again we got shelter from the
burning rays beneath the wild date-palms, a very pleasing feature in
the landscape, varied by the fan-palms, with their green feather-like
leaves and bright orange stalks, covered with similarly coloured fruit.
When ripe the fruit becomes dark brown, like the cultivated date; and
though we ate quantities, we did not get very considerable satisfaction
from the consumption. Then a few delightful moments of repose would be
passed by a sluggish stream, almost hidden by its rich jungle of shade;
but on these last days of our long tramp we did not care to delay, but
pushed on eagerly to reach the corrugated iron palaces of Mapanda,
where we should find the river and the steamer.
Mapanda’s is, indeed, a sorry place: not a tree to give one shade, only
a store or two, built of that unsightly corrugated iron so much beloved
by the early colonists of South Africa, and a few daub huts. It is a
paradise only for those who arrive weary and worn from the interior,
and for the sportsman, affording him a pied-à-terre in the very midst
of the land where ‘the deer and the antelope roam.’ It has, however,
certain points on which it justly prides itself. Firstly, it is the
only spot for miles around which is not under water when the floods are
out, for the banks of the Pungwe are fairly high here. Secondly, the
river is navigable up to here for small steamers, even in the driest
season; and, uninviting though it is at present, Mapanda may have a
future before it.
We had three days to wait at Mapanda’s before the little steamer Agnes
would come up to take us away, and these three days were not without
their excitements.
Three lions penetrated one night into the heart of the camp, and
partially consumed three donkeys—not ours, we are thankful to say, but
those of a wicked Polish Jew, who had given infinite trouble to the
English there, by causing an innocent Briton to be arrested by the
Portuguese on a charge of theft; on which account he (the Jew) was well
ducked in the Pungwe, and no one was sorry when the discriminating
lions chose his donkeys for their meal; nay, many expressed a wish that
the owner himself had formed part of the banquet. The next night the
three lions, which had been lurking during the day in the jungle by the
river, came to visit us again, with a view to demolishing what they and
the vultures had left of the Hebrew’s donkeys. One of the three
visitors was shot, but he got away, and we heard no more of them.
Opposite the British colony at Mapanda is a large island forty miles
long by twenty at its widest; this island is formed by the Pungwe and a
branch of the same known by the Kaffir name of Dingwe-Dingwe. The
island is perfectly flat, covered with low brushwood here and there,
and long grass. It abounds in game; and on it the chief Mapanda has his
kraal, having removed thither when the English came to settle at his
old one on the banks of the river. One day we devoted to visiting this
kraal, performing part of the journey in a native canoe which we
borrowed—just the hollow stem of a large tree—which oscillated so much
under our inexperienced hands that we momentarily expected it to upset
and hand us over to the crocodiles; so we effected a hasty landing in
the swampy jungle and proceeded on foot.
Mapanda’s own village consists of only eight bamboo huts, built close
to a tall palm-tree; in the centre of the huts is a raised platform, on
which the grass-woven granaries of the community are kept. Beneath, in
the shade, lay idle inhabitants, and from it were hung the grass
petticoats and jangling beads which they use in their dances. I entered
one of the huts on all-fours for inspection, and as I was engaged in so
doing a terrified woman inside tore down the frail wall and made a
hurried exit at the other side. I am told by those outside that the
effect was most ludicrous. No wonder these dusky beauties are somewhat
afraid of the white man, as hitherto they have dealt only with the
Portuguese, who pride themselves on amalgamating well with the natives.
In choosing a wife the Portuguese is not at all particular as to
colour, nor is he a monogamist, as he would have to be in his far-off
country. This we discovered for ourselves at Neves Ferreira, the
Portuguese settlement on the Pungwe, about six miles below Mapanda’s,
where, beneath tall bananas and refreshing shade, the authorities of
that nation pass a life of Oriental luxury which somewhat scandalises
the strait-laced Briton.
There are several little kraals on the island belonging to the sons and
relatives of Mapanda, all built on the same lines, and in visiting
which we made ourselves insufferably thirsty, so that a good drink of
Kaffir beer, or, as the Portuguese call it, ‘millet wine,’ was highly
acceptable. It is much more potent than the beer they make up country,
and if it were not for the husks therein, and general nature of
fermented porridge it presents, one might fancy it champagne. Here,
too, they make palm wine, tapping all the neighbouring palm-trees for
the sap, which is highly intoxicating, and of by no means a
disagreeable flavour. At Mapanda’s we bade farewell to our donkeys and
our cart and our conductor, Meredith, who had been with us and served
us faithfully ever since we left Kimberley, ten long months before. He
returned to Fort Salisbury with the cart, and wrote to inform us of the
miseries of his journey owing to the rains, which brought fever, and
the demise of the donkeys before the end of the journey.
The voyage from Mapanda’s to the sea at Beira would be indescribably
monotonous were it not for a few interesting features afforded by the
stream itself. The tide here comes up with a remarkably strong bore, or
wall-like wave, reminding one of the same phenomenon in the Severn at
home. We heard it murmuring in the distance like the soughing of a
rising wind; as it approached us the roar grew very loud, and finally
the wave floated our stranded steamer almost in an instant.
Sandbanks are the bane of the navigator of this stream. On his last
voyage our captain had been detained for three days on one, and we
passed a Portuguese gunboat which looked as if it would remain there
till the end of time. Our fate was a mild one: we were only on a bank
for a few hours, until the bore came up. These sandbanks are constantly
shifting, and the captain never knows where they may next appear;
consequently slow speed and constant soundings are the only safeguards.
Crocodiles innumerable bask on these sandbanks, and in the stream
itself hippopotami raise their black heads and stare at the strange
animal which has come, and which will shortly cause the extermination
of their species in the Pungwe.
Beira itself is the Portuguese word for a spit of sand, and is a horror
of corrugated-iron domiciles on a bare shadeless sandspit at the mouth
of the Pungwe. There is no drinkable water to be got within three miles
of the place, and we paid half-a-crown a bucket for a very questionable
quality of the precious fluid. Nobody washes himself or his clothes in
anything but the sea during the dry season. On the last day of our stay
at Beira (November 23) the heavens were opened and rain fell in
torrents. Never was rain more welcome; pot, pan, and bucket were placed
in every direction, and the extortionate water vendors had to retire
from the field.
Where the eye does not rest on sea or sand it wanders from Beira over
miles of flat mangrove swamps. The heat was scorching; when you walked
you sank ankle-deep in sand at each step. Of all places Beira is the
most horrible. When a Portuguese merchant goes to his office he is
borne by four tottering negroes in his mashila; the Englishman walks
and does most of his own work for himself, for the very good reason
that he can get nobody to do it for him. This labour question is one of
vital importance in Beira, and if ever it is to be a port of note the
present order of things must be altered.
Yet, in spite of the fever, the heat, and the sand, Beira must go
ahead, as nature has provided it with an excellent harbour, a rarity on
the east coast of Africa. This is the only harbour for the proposed
railway to the interior, which is to have its terminus on the opposite
side of the harbour to Beira, nearer to the mouth of the Buzi, and will
run along the flats between that river and the Pungwe. Until this line
is made, I think few of those who have come down this road will care to
return and face the discomforts of another foot journey through the fly
country and the swamps. Perhaps it will be two years before this line
is completed, and it must be done by the cooperation of the two
interested companies, the British South Africa and the Mozambique.
Between Massi-Kessi and Umtali it will cost a considerable amount of
capital if the hills are to be tunnelled. On the flats the swamps will
cause difficulties: fevers will play havoc with the labourers, and the
rivers and the dongas will have to be bridged.
When this line is completed, I feel confident that Mashonaland will
rapidly go ahead. There are in it all the elements of prosperity; and
we may yet live to see the glories of the ancient ruins revived under
other auspices, for long centuries have not altered the love of gold
inherent in mankind.
APPENDICES
APPENDIX A
NOTES ON THE GEOGRAPHY AND METEOROLOGY OF MASHONALAND
By Robert M. W. Swan, Esq.
Central Mashonaland consists of elevated granite plateaux, varying in
height between 3,000 and 5,000 feet. Through the surface of these
plains rise groups of isolated little granite hills which are most
remarkable and varied in form, and which sometimes attain an elevation
of 1,000 feet above their base, but more frequently they are about 400
feet high. Generally they are composed of enormous broken blocks of
granite, but often they are dome-shaped and of one unbroken mass of
rock, and suggest the idea of huge bubbles on the surface of a molten
mass. The summits of the latter kind of hills are, of course, quite
inaccessible. They are not hills left in relief by the denudation of
the surrounding country, but, judging from exposed sections of some
that I have seen, they have been elevated by a force acting at a
comparatively small distance below the present surface, and they are
older than the stratified rocks of the country.
On the granite plateaux one meets with patches of stratified rock—of
quartzites and schists, and rarely some crystalline limestone.
Magnesia, too, is sometimes present, notably at Umtali, and in the
steatite which occurs near the Great Zimbabwe, of which many of the
objects found in the excavations were made. The strike of the strata is
generally east and west, and the various patches arrange themselves in
several fairly continuous lines running across the country in the same
direction as the strike. These semi-continuous deposits or belts of
stratified rock are generally two or three miles wide, and in them
occur the gold-bearing quartz reefs. The most southerly belt that I
know of in Mashonaland proper passes by Fort Victoria, and probably
crosses the Sabi River about latitude 20°. The next large one passes by
Umtali and the ’Mfuli River, where it crosses the waggon-road, and so
on to Hartley Hill. This belt includes Mount Wedsa, the highest
mountain in Mashonaland. Next in order comes the Mazoe deposit, which
perhaps also includes the Kaiser Wilhelm gold-field. These deposits are
all fairly similar in nature, but no fossils have been found in them,
and their age has not been determined. They probably represent a
continuous sheet of stratified rock, all of which has been denuded away
except the above-mentioned belts. They generally present a rugged
surface, elevated in mountain ranges, which often rise 1,500 and 2,000
feet above their base, and, although they are nearly always steep, they
are rarely precipitous. These mountains are regular and beautiful in
outline, and refresh the eye after it has grown wearied of the
grotesque forms of the granite hills. The soil on the stratified rocks
is more fertile than it is on the granite, and the vegetation is more
charming; the very coarse grasses of the granite soils being replaced
by many flowering plants.
The ruins which have just been described are all built on granite, but
are generally within a short distance of the quartz formation; and the
ruins at Zimbabwe are situated four miles from the southern edge of the
quartz belt. At Zimbabwe we found little clay crucibles in which gold
had been melted, and an accumulation of quartzite rock which had been
obtained from the casing of a quartz reef. I carefully tested this rock
for gold, but could only find a very minute trace; so I conclude that
it had been rejected as too poor for treatment. While at Zimbabwe,
whenever I could spare time from the excavations, I made excursions to
the quartz belt, and searched for old workings and gold reefs. I found
one reef carrying a small quantity of gold, but no old workings. Since
then, however, rich gold reefs have been discovered about twenty miles
to the north-west of Zimbabwe, and from these probably the ancients
obtained their quartz. The quartz formation near the little ruin at the
Mazoe River has been much worked for gold, and the Manica belt seems to
have been even more exploited. Where the high plateau breaks down at
Massi-Kessi an enormous amount of alluvial has been worked. The old
people must have obtained, from both the alluvial and the reefs, a
great quantity of gold to repay them for the work that they did, and
there is no reason to suppose that they have exhausted the reefs;
indeed, I have seen at the bottom of old workings the reef continuing
and carrying visible gold.
Besides gold reefs, these quartz belts contain much iron ore and some
manganese. In two isolated patches of the quartzite formation at the
Doroba Mountains, near the Sabi River, I found great masses of rich
magnetite and hematite, and on the top of Mount ’Nyaguzwe, near Fort
Victoria, there is also a mass of magnetite; in fact, so very abundant
is iron ore, that compass bearings can rarely be taken with safety from
hills in the quartz formation. Along the right bank of the Sabi River,
near Mount Wedsa, are many native villages, whose one industry is iron
smelting. They obtain the ore from Mount Wedsa, which is renowned far
and wide in Kaffirland as an iron-producing mountain. The mineral they
select is not very rich, and is consequently more easily smelted, and
it contains some manganese. The iron they produce is very pure, and is
consequently soft and easily fashioned into weapons and tools. Their
anvils are simple blocks of hard diorite, on which they hammer with
another smaller block.
The tributaries of the Sabi River flowing near Zimbabwe have been
ill-defined on previous maps. The ’Mpopotekwe joins the ’Mtelekwe and
the ’Mshagashe flows into the united stream a short distance south of
Zimbabwe. This river, under the name of the ’Mtelekwe, then flows into
the Lunde, and not to the Sabi direct. The Tokwe joins the Lunde
farther north. The most interesting geographical work that we did was
on our expedition to the Sabi River, and on that from Fort Salisbury to
’Mtoko’s, and down by Mangwendi’s and Makoni’s country to Umtali. On
our journey to the Sabi we crossed a great many of its western
tributaries; and as the same streams rose near the waggon-road, and we
crossed them pretty far down their courses, we were able to lay down
their direction for a considerable distance with certainty. The Sabi
River itself, in latitude 19° 15′, we found was placed twenty miles too
far west in former maps; and from the information which I gathered from
the natives, in the latitude of Zimbabwe, it must be about fifty miles
farther east than it is placed in these maps. This river, where we
struck it, was a considerable stream flowing rapidly over a rocky bed.
It had fallen about 1,800 feet from its source near Fort Charter, and
had 2,700 feet more to fall before it reached the sea. When it has
received all the tributaries we crossed it must be a very big river.
Going from Fort Salisbury to ’Mtoko’s we crossed many tributaries of
the Mazoe River, which were either not shown at all in former maps, or
were most inaccurately placed. We recrossed these streams again farther
up returning from ’Mtoko’s to Mangwendi’s. I also got excellent views
of them from the various mountains which I ascended, so that I was able
to lay them down in my map with certainty. To the eastward of ’Mtoko’s
we could see the high veldt breaking into mountain ranges as it
descended towards Gouveia’s country.
Approaching Mangwendi’s, and also going between Mangwendi’s and
Chipunza’s, our way lay along a very high watershed, on the western
side of which rose some of the eastern tributaries of the Sabi River,
the most important of which was the ’Msheke. At Makoni’s we reached the
highest part of the plateau, and this is, with the exception of some
villages on Mount Yenya, the highest inhabited part of Mashonaland.
From Makoni’s to Mount Yenya the country is broken; and the descent is
very rapid, but on the east of our route the descent is still more
rapid and the mountains more imposing. On the north side of Mount Yenya
flows the Odzi River, which is there a very considerable stream. Mount
Yenya is a most imposing mountain and the highest in Mashonaland, with
the exception of Mount Wedsa. It rises to a height of 5,800 feet above
sea level, and within 300 feet of its summit are several villages which
own a considerable number of cattle. It probably represents the Mount
Doe which the Portuguese place on their maps about this part, and which
they say is 7,900 feet high, for certainly there is no mountain near
Mount Yenya of equal height. Between Umtali and Massi-Kessi the country
is extremely mountainous, and the scenery is the grandest that we saw
in Mashonaland. We lost 1,400 feet in height between these two places.
A short distance after leaving Massi-Kessi we crossed the Revwe River,
and our way lay along a watershed about 2,000 feet high. This watershed
is thickly wooded, and is traversed sometimes by deep ravines. On the
left hand the streams flow to the Pungwe River, and on the right to the
Revwe and the Muda and Mutuchiri Rivers. Approaching Sarmento, the
country falls rapidly to nearly sea level; and thence to the coast we
traversed a flat alluvial country through which the Pungwe River
sluggishly flows. This swampy level country swarms with game,
especially towards the end of the dry season, but the vegetation is not
nearly so luxuriant as one would expect, and some parts of this country
are quite bare.
I have been careful throughout to spell the native names in accordance
with the rules laid down by the Royal Geographical Society. The sound
of the Bushman clicks which occurs so often in the names of places and
in the names of tribes derived from the names of places, but most
frequently of all in the names of rivers, is slurred over by the
present tribes, and represented by a combination of letters. As I know
of no rule for the spelling of these sounds, I have represented them by
an inverted comma and the consonant nearest in sound. In maps of Africa
north of the Zambesi these clicks are generally spelt in this way,
although the comma has often dropped out, as in words like ‘Nyanza,’
‘Mpwapwa,’ ‘Mvumi;’ but south of that river cartographers have been
less accurate, and have often used various vowels instead of the comma.
I have used such mis-spellings of the native names only when they have
been long established and passed into constant use: as ‘Umtali’ and
‘Inhambane.’
A point of interest in the remote history of the country and of the
ruins which we examined—for the old people doubtless entered the
country by this coast—is the growth of the land at the mouth of the
Pungwe River and around Sofala. From about Sarmento down to Beira one
passes over a low alluvial country which has been slowly encroaching on
the sea for ages. I am sorry that in the rush to the coast I did not
have time to collect data to enable me to form any idea of the quantity
of mud deposited from the waters of the Pungwe in a given time, but its
waters hold in suspension a great quantity of fine clay derived from
the decomposition of the granite in its basin, and this is deposited
where the river enters the sea. The distance from Sarmento to Beira as
the crow flies is sixty-five miles, so that at some period the road to
the interior must have been shortened by this amount, and even in early
historical times some part of the journey across the low fever belt
would have been saved. The site of ancient seaports will now be far
inland, so it need not surprise us that remains of these ports have not
yet been found.
Owing to frequent absence from camp, I was unable to read the
thermometer and barometer as continuously and regularly as I could have
wished, but the readings which I did take give us some idea of what the
climate at Zimbabwe was in June and July last year. We arrived there on
June 6, after a week of south-east winds, high barometer, and rain and
mist. The wind then gradually fell and the barometer with it, and we
had three weeks of fine calm weather. The barometer reached its minimum
on June 27, and at the same time the difference of the readings of the
wet and dry bulb thermometers was at its maximum. The air was then very
dry and the sky clear, with light north winds which were evidently
local in origin, and the temperature at night fell below
freezing-point, so that in the morning we saw a light deposit of
hoar-frost. Immediately after this the barometer began to rise, there
were light south-east winds, the atmosphere became moister, and on July
4 the south-east wind had increased considerably in strength, and some
rain fell. From this time until the end of our stay at Zimbabwe, on
August 2, the barometer slowly rose and fell, its range being limited
to about three-tenths of an inch; and whenever the south-east winds
blew at all strongly the barometer rose and we had mist and rain. We
had during this period generally about a half-day of rain each week.
At first sight it seems surprising that we should have windy wet
weather with a high barometer, but we must remember that the only winds
which can bring rain to Zimbabwe, at least in winter, are the
south-easterly winds, and these, like all other winds blowing towards
the equator, increase the atmospheric pressure. Zimbabwe is situated on
the edge of a plateau about 3,400 feet above sea level. The country
breaks down gradually towards the south and east and more rapidly
towards the west, while towards the north it rises gently until after
about 100 miles it attains an altitude of nearly 5,000 feet. The west
winds, if they do blow, have to traverse the continent and the high
country about the sources of the Limpopo before they reach Zimbabwe, so
that they will deposit their excess of moisture for the altitude of
Zimbabwe before reaching that place; and the northerly winds will tend
to increase in temperature, and consequently in dryness, after falling
from the high country towards the north; so that westerly and northerly
winds will not part with moisture at Zimbabwe. The predominant winds in
this latitude are the south-east trades, and they, carrying their
moisture from the Indian Ocean, are forced to rise as they pass over
this country, and they consequently expand and are lowered in
temperature and so deposit much of their moisture on this edge of the
high plateau. A similar winter climate seems to prevail in most parts
of Mashonaland, the edges of the plateaux receiving most of the
moisture. Manica is situated much nearer the sea than Zimbabwe, and the
country there falls much more rapidly towards the east (it falls 1,400
feet in ten miles near Umtali), and consequently the rainfall there is
heavier. Fort Salisbury is better situated for a dry winter, for it is
in the middle of a high plateau, and the south-east winds will have
parted with most of their surplus moisture for that altitude before
they reach it. The driest time of the year in Mashonaland is from
August to November. I may mention that the greatest difference I
observed in the readings of the wet and dry bulb thermometers was 24°
F. at the ’Mshabetsi River, at an altitude of 2,140 feet, on May 13 at
2 P.M.; the readings being 64° and 88° respectively. At Zimbabwe during
June and July the difference in readings varied from 0° to 20° F., and
the dew point sometimes fell to 32° F. at midday. The extreme range of
shade temperature in the two months was 46° F.
APPENDIX B
LIST OF STATIONS IN MASHONALAND ASTRONOMICALLY OBSERVED, WITH ALTITUDES
By Robert M. W. Swan, Esq.
STATIONS LATITUDE LONGITUDE HEIGHTS [35]
° ′ ″ ° ′ ″ feet
Mafeking 25 51 1 25 41 0 —
Ramatlabama River 25 37 57 — —
At Pan 25 30 13 25 8 15 —
Kanya, 11 miles S.S.E of 25 7 2 25 8 15 3580
Kanya 24 58 30 25 16 0 3750
Molopolole 24 25 30 25 21 0 4020
Molopolole, 4 miles N. of 24 21 30 25 21 30 3872
Klippan, ½ mile N. of 24 17 12 — 4020
Kurumurwa 24 8 33 — 3570
Khemi 23 50 8 — 3490
Boatlenama, 15 miles S.E. of 23 42 20 25 35 30 3540
Boatlenama 23 32 30 — 3400
S. of Selinia Pan 23 27 11 — 3120
N. of Selinia Pan 23 20 51 26 3 15 3050
Near Hataloklu Vley 23 15 4 26 10 53 3140
S. of Shoshong 23 8 47 26 19 30 3160
Near Shoshong 23 4 0 26 28 0 3310
At stream 23 1 57 26 41 30 3260
Near Mahalapsi River 22 57 41 26 51 15 3240
Chuloan Vley 22 46 0 27 6 30 3010
Palapwe 22 37 30 27 18 0 3150
At Lotsani River 22 32 45 27 21 30 2740
At Lotsani River 22 33 58 27 34 0 2480
At Lotsani River 22 32 37 27 46 45 2450
Near Elibi Fort 22 32 55 — 2300
Near Elibi Fort — — 2230
At Muralla Vley 22 32 55 28 10 30 2290
Makwenje River 22 26 56 28 21 30 2275
Pakwe River 22 15 20 28 24 15 2400
Marapong River 22 7 38 28 31 0 2230
Matlaputla River 22 3 39 — —
Maklutsi Camp 22 0 42 28 38 15 2010
Maklutsi River 21 58 20 28 41 0 1870
Metsimachokwan River 21 49 55 28 52 0 1920
Semalali 21 53 2 29 0 40 2080
Baobab Spruit 21 53 17 29 14 0 —
Fort Tuli 21 55 20 29 20 15 —
Ipagi River 21 51 59 29 36 15 —
Sigabi River 21 43 53 29 42 30 —
’Msingwan River 21 39 7 29 48 15 1720
’Mshabetsi River 21 26 22 29 57 15 2140
Mount Yanda 21 21 57 30 6 15 2330
Bubye River 21 20 30 30 14 0 2090
’Nyamanda 21 11 34 30 23 15 —
Mount Host 21 9 10 30 30 20 2250
Near Nwanetsi River 21 5 16 30 38 30 1910
Near Nwanesti River 20 59 23 30 41 0 1880
Near Mount Ibonda 20 49 49 30 42 0 2130
Lunde River 20 41 6 30 44 45 1970
Near Naka Mountains 20 35 54 30 45 0 2130
’Mlala 20 27 9 30 47 30 2580
Tokwe River 20 23 5 30 53 30 2380
Providential Pass 20 11 11 30 57 45 3090
Fort Victoria 20 7 53 31 0 0 3380
Zimbabwe 20 16 30 31 7 30 3340
’Mshagashe River 20 3 40 — 3200
Makori 19 38 29 30 58 30 4200
Chekatu 19 38 49 31 3 0 4100
Gona 19 36 52 — 4350
’Msingana 19 31 30 — 3650
Kutimasinga’s 19 38 19 31 37 0 3250
Lutile 19 34 12 — 3600
Matindela 19 30 23 31 51 45 3350
Near Mount Wizinde 19 17 0 — 3250
Near Mwairari River 19 14 56 32 2 45 2900
Mukubu River 19 8 45 32 4 15 2700
Sabi River 19 7 40 32 1 30 2900
Ampsäi River 19 6 41 — 2950
Zamopera 19 0 17 31 39 15 3660
Mafusaire’s 18 56 26 — 3950
East of Smet’s Kraal 18 51 25 — —
West of Kwende’s Kraal 18 48 25 31 25 45 4220
’Mtigesa’s 18 48 30 31 16 45 4570
Fort Charter 18 35 40 31 9 45 4408
’Mfuli River 18 18 35 31 5 30 4080
Near stream 18 10 15 31 10 15 —
S. of Hanyani River 18 0 22 31 3 15 4800
Fort Salisbury 17 49 30 31 4 15 4820
Fleming’s Camp, Mazoe River 17 32 48 30 56 0 —
Yellow Jacket Mine, ditto 17 28 32 31 4 15 4030
Madelaywa’s 17 48 30 31 12 0 —
Musungaikwa’s 17 52 33 31 20 15 5010
Nora River 17 55 13 31 29 0 4470
Kunzi’s 17 53 40 31 33 0 4400
Yandoro’s 17 47 0 31 41 45 4720
Bambabashla’s 17 40 30 31 48 0 4410
Mahume River 17 31 0 31 57 45 3420
Near Lutsa 17 23 30 32 9 0 3450
Near ’Mtoko’s 17 23 50 32 14 0 3900
’Nyandea River 17 32 5 32 8 30 3600
Nyamashupa River 17 39 22 32 2 15 3900
Near Mount Masunsgwai 17 50 12 31 54 15 4350
Yaungurukwe River 17 59 25 31 45 45 4700
Mangwendi’s P.S. 18 6 42 31 39 30 4870
Nyanger Mountain 18 15 20 31 46 0 4850
Chikamondi River 18 21 6 31 56 30 4810
Mount Ruanda 18 22 30 32 7 30 4830
Chipunza’s 18 27 30 32 10 15 4450
Near Chigono’s 18 33 50 32 17 0 4450
Near Yenya Mountains 18 45 0 32 22 45 3620
Odzi River drift 18 48 50 — 3420
’Mtasa’s 18 44 30 32 29 0 4170
Umtali, our camp 18 53 30 32 32 45 3600
Massi-Kessi (Portuguese camp) 18 53 45 32 44 30 2200
Mineni River 18 56 0 32 50 30 2140
Lusika River 18 59 27 33 2 0 2000
Vundusi River trib. 18 59 10 33 13 0 2000
Near Chimoia’s 18 59 0 33 20 0 2140
Zombana River 18 57 15 — 1930
Makumbese River 19 2 10 — 120
Vley 19 8 35 — 100
Mutuchiri River 19 16 40 — 50
’Mpanda’s 19 23 30 34 32 30 20
APPENDIX C
ADDENDA TO CHAPTER V
By R. M. W. Swan, Esq.
Since writing the preceding pages (Chapter V.) it has been found to be
possible from the measurements made at Zimbabwe to determine the radius
of another curve of the outer wall of the great temple. This part of
the wall extends from B in a north-westerly direction for 111 feet, to
a point which we shall call C. The radius of its curve is 133 feet, so
that the diameter of the circle of which it is a part is equal to one
half of 17·17 × 3·143, and the centre of the curve (which we shall call
W) is situated on the meridian line from the altar through the main
doorway. The middle point of this arc B C, the S.S.E. doorway of the
arc G, the centres G and W, all lie in one and the same straight line.
This line cuts the meridian at an angle of 30°, and when produced will
pass over the outer wall at a point which is marked by a step which is
built across the top of the wall. A line drawn in a similar way from
the middle of the arc K B through the centre of the great tower, the
altar, and P, also cuts the meridian at an angle of 30°, but from its
other side. As the original wall no longer exists at the point where
this line would pass we cannot say if its position was marked on the
wall.
These lines of sight seem to have been used, like the meridian lines,
for the observation of stars, but of stars off the meridian. It could
hardly have served any useful purpose to observe several stars crossing
these lines unless they all had the same polar distance; for stars with
different polar distances would cross the lines at different lengths of
time before and after their culminations. Nor, in the latitude of
Zimbabwe, would any individual star cross the lines at any important
time in its daily circuit. But if we suppose that this temple is built
on the model of one in the parent country in the northern hemisphere,
it is easy to imagine a useful purpose which these lines may have
served. In the latitude of Southern Arabia, for instance, an observer
facing north would see the North Pole elevated about 15° above the
horizon. If we compare the northern portion of the sky to a watch dial,
the stars will represent the moving hands, the pole the centre of the
dial, the meridian the XII. and VI. hour-points, and the III. and IX.
hours will be marked by a horizontal line passing through the pole east
and west. When stars cross this line they may be said to be at their
east or west elongation. Now it seems probable that the two lines in
question would be used in the parent country to observe a star having a
north polar distance of 30° when it was at its east and west
elongations and six hours from the meridian.
We have before remarked that none of our trigonometrical functions seem
to have been recognised by the builders of Zimbabwe, and that the
angular values of the arcs are of no special importance when measured
in our way. But they must have been of importance to the builders of
the temples. The locating of the centres of the arcs on the several
meridian lines, supposing the meridian lines were first laid down in
planning the temples (as the central one undoubtedly was in the great
temple), does not really determine the intersecting points of the arcs;
for, were the centre moved along the meridian lines in either
direction, the points of intersection would change their positions and
the lengths of the arcs would be altered.
The lengths of the arcs seem to have been determined by the
intersections of circles of radii different from those of the arcs
themselves, but the lengths of whose radii were determined by the same
system as those of the arcs. The centres of the intersecting circles
are situated on the radius of the arc which lies midway between its
extremities, and the distance between the arc and the intersecting
circle measured on the same radius produced is equal to the diameter of
one of the towers.
The arc AK is built on a curve of 107·8 feet radius; and if a circle be
drawn as described with a radius of 169·3 feet, it will determine the
length of the chord of the arc at 107 feet, and the distance between
the two arcs measured on the middle radius will be 5·45, which is equal
to the diameter of the little tower.
The arc KB treated in the same way, with a curve of 84·6 feet, and with
a distance of 17·17 feet (the diameter of the great tower) between the
intersecting circle and the arc, has the length of its chord fixed at
129½ feet. These two lengths of 107 and 129½ feet agree to within six
inches with our actual measurement of the wall itself.
If we apply our system to the arc BC in an exactly similar manner, but
with the distance between the circle and the arc made equal to the
radius of the great tower, we find that the length of its chord should
be 111 feet; and this also agrees closely with our measurements.
The arc of the eastern temple on the hill has a radius of 42·3 feet,
and if a circle of 169·3 feet be applied to it with a distance of 17·17
feet between the circle and the arc, we find that the length of its
chord should be 72 feet; and this is exactly what we make it on our
plan. This also explains the hitherto inexplicable position of the
eastern doorway.
In a similar way we determine the length of the chord of the great wall
in the western temple to be 140 feet; but as the ends of this wall are
in a ruinous condition, and as the present outer face is not of the
original period, we cannot say whether this was the actual measurement
or not.
With two exceptions, there are no other arcs which are sufficiently
complete to allow us to ascertain their original measurements. These
exceptions are the arc in the little temple at G, and that from the
doorway to A. In the former case, the length of the arc is fixed by the
two doorways; and as one of these is placed north of the centre in
order to permit of observation along the meridian line, and the other
is made to serve the same purpose for the line GW, it is obvious why
the length of this arc was not determined in the same way. In the
latter case, as one end of the arc is at a northern doorway, and as we
are not quite certain of the length of the radius of the arc itself, we
have not attempted to determine the length of its chord.
It is much to be desired that more of the plan of the original temple
should be recovered, and this can only be done by careful excavation
conducted by some one of experience in the art; for an inexperienced or
careless workman could easily and unwittingly remove any of the
remaining mortarless foundations without ever discovering that he had
done so.
APPENDIX D.
The following notes have been kindly supplied by the Secretary of the
British South Africa Company:—
PROGRESS IN MASHONALAND SUMMARISED FROM NOVEMBER 1891 TO MAY 1893.
HEALTH.
The rainy season of 1891 to 1892 found the settlers in Mashonaland well
housed and with an abundance of provisions; in consequence, a wonderful
improvement was manifested in the health of the community, proving that
the insufficiency of food and shelter, necessarily associated with the
initial occupation of a wild country so many hundreds of miles from a
base of supply, was mainly responsible for the sickness of the rainy
season of 1890–1891.
The Senior Medical Officer of the British South Africa Company reported
early in 1892 that not a single case of fever had arisen among the
inhabitants of Salisbury during the worst part of the wet season; in
every case the patient had contracted his fever elsewhere, and there
had been no deaths at all from climatic causes in Salisbury or its
district. He adds: ‘Good food, good clothing, shelter from inclement
weather and the sun, an abundant supply of medicines and invalid
necessaries and a milder season have wrought an enormous improvement in
the general health of the people, and Mashonaland of 1892 is not
recognisable as Mashonaland of 1891.’
The general health has been equally good in the rainy season of 1892–3,
and the experience of the last two years has shown that perfect health
may be enjoyed by anyone who will avoid undue exposure and will observe
a few simple precautions.
TOWNSHIPS
Progress in the townships of Salisbury, Victoria, and Umtali has been
rapid.
At Salisbury 1,800 stands have been surveyed and mapped out; at
Victoria 572 stands, and at Umtali 300. In July 1892 a sale of stands
was held at the three places mentioned above, 70 at Salisbury being
sold for 2,250l., 150 at Victoria for 6,107l., and 44 at Umtali for
1,396l., the total sum realised being nearly 10,000l. for 264 stands.
It is intended to hold another sale in July of this year, where
competition no doubt will be keen, as the attention of capitalists in
England, as well as those on the spot, is being directed to the matter.
The public buildings at Salisbury, such as the Administrator’s Offices,
the Standard Bank Offices, the Police Station, Magazine, Court House,
Survey, Mines, Post and Telegraph Offices, are already completed or on
the verge of completion. All the material required for these buildings
has been drawn from the district itself, with the exception of wood for
doors, skirting, and architraves.
A Sanitary Board has been formed at Salisbury to manage the affairs of
the township with a revenue derived from one-half the stand-rents (10s.
per month) and other fees, such as market dues.
A branch of the Standard Bank was opened at Salisbury on July 20, 1892,
and is doing a very good business. A printed newspaper, the Rhodesia
Herald, is also published there weekly.
The Mining Commissioner for Victoria reported on September 24, 1892, as
follows:—
‘The township of Victoria is growing very fast, and very good buildings
are being erected, the majority being composed of brick and iron or
brick and thatch; they are far superior to those erected at Kimberley,
Barberton, or Johannesburg. The town has only been surveyed a few
months, and progress made is very good. This shows that the people have
every confidence in the mining and general prospects of Mashonaland.’
Victoria also possesses a newspaper, the Mashonaland Times and Mining
Chronicle.
As regards hotels, there are several most substantial buildings of
brick and iron offering excellent accommodation at Salisbury, and
between Victoria and Salisbury there are wayside hotels at the various
post-stations. Victoria itself possesses two, and others are to be
found every 20 miles or so along the 200 miles of road connecting
Victoria with Tuli. At the latter place there is an excellent hotel,
conducted by the Tuli Hotel Company.
On the Salisbury-Umtali Road and at Umtali wayside houses and hotels
have been established, and their number will no doubt be augmented on
the completion of the Beira Railway.
ROADS.
The existing roads have been kept up and improved, and under Mr.
Selous’s superintendence new ones have been made in many directions
connecting Fort Salisbury with the various gold-fields and with the
main road to the Pungwe.
During 1892 Mr. Selous constructed an excellent road from Umtali to
Chimoio, a distance of over 70 miles, to meet the head of the Beira
Railway. The road will be available for heavy waggons at all seasons of
the year. Two road-making parties are engaged at the present time in
maintaining and improving it.
BEIRA RAILWAY.
Satisfactory progress is being made with the Beira Railway, the first
section of which from Fontes Villa (about 48 miles up the Pungwe from
Beira) to Chimoio, a distance of 75 miles, will be opened by the end of
July.
The embankments are completed for 65 miles and the permanent way for
50, but the curves in some places, especially in the last few miles,
are sharp, owing to the broken and hilly nature of the country. Special
rails for these curves have had to be procured from England and are now
on their way out. By the time they arrive at the end of June all the
earthworks will be finished, and they will then only have to be linked
to complete the railway through the fly-belt. It is this fly-belt which
has hitherto opposed such an insuperable obstacle to the importation of
heavy goods by this otherwise easy, cheap, and convenient route.
It is estimated that the cost of transport of goods from Cape Town to
Salisbury will thus be decreased by more than 20l. per ton, and it will
then be possible to import machinery &c. at rates which compare
favourably with those which obtained at the Randt before the recent
completion of the line to Johannesburg.
On completion of the first section, the construction of the second
section as far as Salisbury will be pressed on with, transport being
carried on in the meantime by services of waggons on the Chimoio-Umtali
Road, alluded to above.
AGRICULTURE.
The main occupations of settlers have been gold mining and farming.
Favourable reports of the country from an agricultural and pastoral
point of view have on several occasions been furnished by deputations
of experienced farmers appointed at public meetings, both in the Cape
Colony and the Orange Free State, to inspect and report upon the land.
As the result of these reports, large ‘treks’ of farmers from those
countries have already proceeded, and will be followed shortly by
others, to occupy tracts of land in Mashonaland.
A recent return from the Surveyor-General’s Office at Salisbury shows
that farms representing a total area of 3,178 square miles or 2,000,000
acres have been granted and located, nearly one-half having been
properly surveyed in addition. Grants of land for farms of 3,000 acres
in extent at an annual quit rent of 3l. were obtainable during 1892,
but so many applications were received that these practically free
grants have been altogether suspended, and the price of land is fixed
for the present at 9d. per acre subject to the annual quit rent.
Farming operations in Mashonaland should offer special advantages,
owing to the proximity of the various gold-fields, which have always
afforded markets at most remunerative rates for all farm produce, and
will no doubt continue to do so in the future in an even greater
degree.
The most important of the deputations above referred to upon inspection
estimated that in the parts of the country visited there were at least
40,000 square miles well adapted for colonising purposes. When it is
remembered that the area of Mashonaland and Matabeleland is 125,000
square miles, and that not one-half of this extent of country was seen
by the deputation, it will be generally conceded that their estimate,
large as it is, admits of considerable amplification.
It may be incidentally mentioned, dealing with quite another part of
the British South Africa Company’s territories, viz. the sphere north
of the Zambesi, which amounts to upwards of 500,000 square miles, that
most favourable reports of its mineral and agricultural resources have
been furnished by such well-known travellers as Joseph Thomson and
Alfred Sharpe.
GOLD.
The attention of the majority of the population has mainly been
directed to the exploitation of the gold reefs, and in spite of
difficulties arising from want of transport and from ignorance of the
country, a great deal of solid development has been achieved.
Owing to various causes, it was not until July 1891 that regular
workings were commenced. Since that time prospecting has been carried
on in a systematic and efficient manner, resulting in the discovery of
the gold-bearing districts of Victoria, Manica, Hartley Hill, Mazoe,
and Lo Magondas, having a total area of 27,000 square miles. It is
believed that the gold-belt starting from Umtali passes through
Victoria, and will in all probability connect with the gold-belt
stretching eastward from the Tati gold-fields in the western portion of
Matabeleland, and on which considerable development work has been done.
Fresh discoveries on a large scale have recently been made within 15
miles of Salisbury. The latest cable intelligence states that in these
new fields the reefs proved to 40 and 60 feet are as rich and as wide
as at the surface. Gold-belts have also recently been discovered at Mt.
Darwin, about 80 miles north of Mazoe, at points 120 miles north of
Umtali (Manica) and 80 miles south of the same place, and on the Tokwe
River about 30 miles west of Victoria. The gold formations at the above
places are all very extensive, show visible freely, and give very rich
pannings, while they cannot be said to have been developed at all up to
the present. Another series of reefs, which are described as being
phenomenally rich by the British South Africa Company’s Administrator,
have just been discovered in the commonage at Umtali.
The immense cost of importing even the lightest stamp batteries has, of
course, retarded the gold industry to an enormous extent, but the
completion of the Beira Railway will work a great change in this
respect. What crushings have taken place show very rich results. The
average yield from several hundred tons of ore extracted from all reefs
in the Victoria district, good and bad together, was 18·3 dwt. per ton,
or about 73s. It has, however, been proved in practice that mining
operations even under present conditions can be carried on in
Mashonaland at a cost not exceeding 20s. per ton, leaving the very
handsome profit of 53s. for every ton crushed in the above district.
In a cablegram recently received from the Company’s administrator on
his return from a tour of inspection of the various mining districts he
states that new finds were occurring everywhere daily, and that
crushings were everywhere successful; that the reefs were improving
with depth, and that wonderful development was proceeding in every
district. As regards alluvial gold, that large deposits do exist, and
that their discovery is only a question of time, is the opinion of all
experienced miners. That this time has now arrived seems probable from
a cable message recently received reporting that 50 oz. of alluvial
gold had been brought into Salisbury, causing great excitement there.
Should, however, alluvial fields, so valuable to a new country from
their power of attracting a large mining population, never be
discovered, it may not be too much to say—the progress that has been
made in so short a time, and the enormous extent and richness of the
auriferous reefs being taken into consideration—that the time cannot be
far distant when Mashonaland will assume a leading position amongst the
principal gold-producing countries of the world.
NOTES
[1] M’, which looks so mysterious in all African books, is supposed to
express that the first syllable may be pronounced either um or mu;
there are four correct ways of pronouncing the name in question, Umtali
or Mutare, Umtare or Mutali. The English have adopted the first and the
Portuguese the second.
[2] Vide Chap. VII.
[3] Chap. VII.
[4] Vide illustration, ch. X.
[5] Chap. X.
[6] Chap. XI.
[7] Vide Chap. IX.
[8] Encyclop. Brit.
[9] 17·17 feet is equal to 10 cubits of 20·62 inches; and as all parts
of the building which we have been able to measure accurately, and all
small articles which would probably be made on any scale of measure,
apparently have been made in terms of a cubit of this length, it seems
probable that this cubit was one of the standards of measure in use.
[10] This is not very accurately shown in the small scale plan.
[11] There are many astronomical points in these buildings still to be
considered, and the results of further investigation will be published
later.
[12] Vide illustration, p. 181.
[13] Vide Illustration, p. 181.
[14] Lucian, De Syriâ Deâ, p. 477.
[15] Perrot and Chipiez’s Phœnicia, p. 281.
[16] Kremer, Akademie der Wissenschaft. Wien.
[17] Herod. Bk. III. § 8.
[18] Akademie der Wissenschaft. Wien 1890.
[19] Equal to two Egyptian spans of 9·58 inches.
[20] Vide illustration, p. 194.
[21] Vide illustration, p. 216.
[22] Ezek. xxvii. 21, 22.
[23] Vide Chap. III.
[24] Vide Chap. XI.
[25] Chap. II.
[26] De Barros, De Asiâ. Lisbon, 1552.
[27] According to Ptolemy, the Romans penetrated from the north through
the heart of Africa to a nation called Agizymba, south of the equator.
[28] Chap. IX.
[29] Vide illustration, p. 262.
[30] For description of ruins, vide Chap. IV.
[31] Lecture before the Colonial Institute, April 12, 1892.
[32] Chap. II.
[33] Kremer, Akademie der Wissenschaft.
[34] Chap. VIII.
[35] The heights have been obtained with aneroid and boiling-point
thermometers, and with the exception of that of Zimbabwe, where we
stayed some time, are only approximate.