THE UNITED ARAB HOST--THE COUNCIL--THE LESSER COUNCIL--WHAT AN ARAB BOY
THINKS OF BEING A SLAVE--WHAT SELIM THINKS OF SLAVERY--SAREASTIO ISA--
LITTLE NIANI IS ILL-TREATED--SELIM, AND HIS FATHER--BEAUTIFUL SCENERY--
THE LAND FLOWING WITH MILK AND HONEY--IS IT RIGHT OR WRONG TO OWN
SLAVES?--THE FEARFUL CROCODILE--NARROW ESCAPE FROM DEATH--THE REWARD OF
SELIM'S COURAGE--SIMBA ON THE ALERT--THE REWARD OF SIMBA'S FIDELITY--THE
DEAD MARAUDER--THE FIERCE WARORI--THE ARAB COUNCIL--IS IT WAR, OR
PEACE?--IS IT WAR?
The next morning the caravan of Amer bin Osman was afoot at an early
hour, all hands feeling in a more excellent mood, if possible, than they
were when they retired to sleep. They shouted, they sang merrily, and
enjoyed themselves in much the same manner that all caravans do, when
fresh and cheery they start on a trading campaign.
On the tenth day, on coming from under the shadows of the great scarps
of the Uruguru range, the walled town of Simbamwenni lay before them,
and on a green grassy slope, trending to the River Ungerengeri, were the
white tents and the huts of the caravans they were to join.
As is customary in Africa, the new-comers made their presence known to
their friends by repeated discharges of musketry, which brought out the
Arabs and their people by the hundreds.
The greeting which Amer bin Osman received from his friends was warm and
cordial. The chiefs all embraced him after the manner and custom in
vogue amongst the Arabs, while their followers were not a whit less
expressive to Amer's people. Selim was received with extraordinary
cordiality by the younger Arabs, some of whom were of his own age, and
after interchanging the long list of greetings customary in Arab
countries, they all adjourned to Khamis bin Abdullah's tent, who had by
acclamation been elected chief of the expedition, where in a short time
dishes of curried chicken and rice, kabobs, and sweets of various kinds,
with nice biscuits, were served as a substantial repast for the hungry
travellers.
Though conversation was animated and varied enough before Amer and his
son Selim had satisfied their hunger, it did not touch upon the object
of the expedition, but simply as to what events had transpired during
the journey from the coast to Simbamwenni; but when the repast was
ended, and the dishes were cleared, Khamis bin Abdullah broached the
subject near and dear to each heart just then--the future journey or
route of the expedition, "The great question, Amer bin Osman, about
which we have been attempting to decide," said Khamis, "is, shall we
take the road to Mbumi, in Usagara, and skirt the Mukondokwa mountains
to reach Uhehe, and strike a straight line to Urundi, thence to Marungu,
south of the Tanganika, for Rua, or shall we follow the old road through
Marenga M'Kali and Ugogo to Unyanyembe, thence to Ujiji, and across the
Lake Tanganika to Rua? I should like to have thy opinion, for thou art
a man of age and experience, though thou hast never been to this land
before."
"Allah knows," responded Amer bin Osman, "that I know very little of
this country. If thou dost not wish to decide thyself, as chief, which
is the best road, I should like to hear from thee, or others, about the
differences between the two roads, and the kind of countries which they
traverse."
"Well," said Khamis bin Abdullah, deliberately, "if I were by myself I
should prefer the old road, but there are some here of my friends who
know the country as well as I do, who think we are strong enough to be
able to march along the southern road.
"If we," continued he, "take the old road we shall have the Wagogo to
pay tribute to, or fight, as we like, between here and Rua; but if we
take the southern road, those thieves, the Wahehe, will have to be
looked after closely when going through their country; then we have the
Warori, a more powerful people than the Wagogo, to meet, whom we must
make friends or fight; then beyond Urori we have the Watuta, a tribe
related to the Warori, who speak their language and are more than the
Warori, whom we shall be obliged to pacify or make war against, just as
we feel, and beyond the Watuta is a straight road to the ivory country
of Rua. I will admit that the southern road is by three or four months
the shortest, but I cannot admit that it is the safest."
"And what do my friends think of the two roads? What does Sultan bin
Ali say?" asked Amer.
"I say," replied old Sultan, "that it would be far more prudent in us to
take the northern road. The Wagogo are far more mischievous and
insolent than any I know, but we need not fear them if we are wise, and
do not provoke war."
"Well, if Sultan bin Ali and Khamis bin Abdullah think that the northern
road is the best, I would prefer to be guided by their judgment; but
what do the majority of the chiefs think of it?" asked Amer, directing
his glance to the others who had not yet spoken of this matter to him.
Said Khamis: "There are ten chiefs of us, including thyself; seven of us
are for the southern road, and thou, and I, and Sultan bin Ali are for
taking the northern road."
"Yes," said Sheikh Mohammed, "for this reason. We are over 600 strong,
all armed with guns. It is true we shall have to pay tribute to the
Warori and the Watuta, and may experience some trouble from the Wahehe,
who are dogs and sons of dogs; but the tribute, if we pay any, will not
be much, and will be cheaper in the end than the three months we would
lose on the southern road; besides, we save the cloth we would have to
pay the Wagogo, who are insolent besides being extortionate. Three
months on the road cost us altogether about 900 doti, or fifteen bales
of cloth. Put the Warori tribute against the Wagogo, and we have
fifteen bales of cloth, out of which we can pay the tribute to the
Watuta. It is evident we effect a saving, besides gaining three months
time."
"That is a very good way of putting it," said Amer, "but what dost thou
say, Khamis, about the comparative safety of the two roads? Is there
more danger to be apprehended from the Warori and the Watuta than we, a
trading caravan, would care to meet?"
"That is the view we should take of the matter, and not of the little
cloth we should save," responded Khamis. "Experience tells me to avoid
the Warori, if possible, but above all the Watuta. The Warori are brave
and strong, and sometimes very dangerous; but I have always heard the
Watuta were dangerous, that they are a fierce tribe who live by robbing
caravans, and I should not like to undertake to decide for the southern
road without the concurrence of every chief here present."
"Well, thou hast my consent if thou dost require it, and if God pleases
he can guide us in safety through any tribe in Africa. Far be it from
me to disagree with those who know better than I what roads to take, and
what will best serve our interests," said Amer.
"And if thou dost require mine for thy decision," said old Sultan bin
Ali, "I shall not deny the right of any of the other chiefs to have as
much a voice in the caravan as I have; so now, friend Khamis, thou hast
the liberty to agree or disagree, and hast a right to decide whether
thou wilt lead us through Urori or through Ugogo to the ivory country."
"I have only one voice in the matter, and if ye are all of one consent
that it is better for us to march by the southern road, and still of one
mind that I shall lead ye, I have nothing more to say," responded
Khamis.
"We are, we are," they all replied.
"Very well, the march begins to-morrow," said Khamis bin Abdullah, "at
one hour before sunrise. We follow the old road as far as Mbumi, when
we shall turn south."
The news was soon communicated through the host of followers, and each
knot and group had their own opinions, which they discussed with, as
much acumen and wisdom as their superiors had evinced.
But not to lose eight of our friends Simba and Moto, let us listen to
what they have to say concerning the unusual line of route about to be
adopted.
It is night. The camp-fires are blazing by the score; huts are ranged
around the immense circle, which is more than 500 feet in diameter, and
scores of huts dot the centre of the circle, with their doors opening
according as the taste, fancy, or caprice of the builders suggested.
The huts of the Arab chiefs are arranged in a line close to one another,
but still far enough to insure the privacy and exclusion which every
Arab so much loves for the female portion of his household.
Near the tent of Amer bin Osman are seated before the usual fire-pile
the faithful slaves Simba and Moto with the fundis of the other Arabs;
and on carpets of Oman manufacture are placed Selim, the son of Amer,
Khamis, the young son of Khamis bin Abdullah, the leader, Isa, the son
of Sheikh Thani, and Abdullah and Mussoud, brothers, aged fourteen and
twelve respectively, the sons of Sheikh Mohammed.
We hear Selim's voice first, as we pay him this attention for
personating the hero of this veracious romance.
Said he: "Well, Simba;--ah, Isa, you do not know what a treasure Simba
is; he is so great, so wise, so strong!--what do you think of the
southern road? do you think we shall see more fun?"
"My young master, I fear so," answered Simba, while at the same time he
never lifted his head, so apparently intent was he in keeping his
flint-lock musket clean--a favourite occupation with Simba.
"You fear so!" said Isa, in a tone of surprise. "What, you fear that we
shall see some fun! Fie, Simba! did you not hear your young master say
you were brave and strong, and why should you fear we should have some
fun?" he asked, in a sneering tone.
Simba, turning his wise and large eyes upon Isa, said: "Ah, Master Isa,
you are a boy, and cannot understand."
"Hear the slave!" shouted Isa, laughing boisterously at Simba's
solemnity. "Hear the man!" he repeated. "Isa, son of Mohammed, is a
boy and cannot understand--and cannot understand what--will you tell me,
brave Simba?" he asked.
"You cannot understand, child, that what may be fun to some people will
be sorrow to others; that we may meet with fun of a kind that neither
you nor any of us will much like," said Simba, still rubbing away at the
already excessively clean gun, and looking graver than before.
"Why, what is the matter with you to-night?" asked Selim of Simba.
"The truth is, master, I do not like the course the Arabs have taken. I
think they have been too hasty in adopting the southern road. None
knows it better than friend Moto, and if the great masters had asked of
Moto something about the road, my mind would be more easy concerning you
and the great master Amer."
"What do you know of it, Moto?" asked Selim. "Speak, and tell us all
you know."
"What Simba says is truth," replied Moto. "The Warori are bad, bad,
bad, and the Watuta are worse--very bad--and I think we shall have very
serious times of it."
"How serious?" asked Selim again.
"I mean that we are very likely to have war with them. Ever since
Abdullah bin Nasib or Kisesa had that battle with Mostana, the Warori
have been wicked. They have Arab slaves now. They formerly used to
kill their prisoners or torture them, but now they treat them in the
same way that the Arabs treat the Warori chiefs--they make slaves of
them."
"Make slaves of Arabs!" shouted young Khamis, a sinewy youth of sixteen,
and brave as the bravest of men. "You lie, cur dog; you lie, slave!" he
added furiously.
"Ah, Master Khamis," said Moto, deprecatingly, "if they are slaves, it
was not I who made them slaves; but I speak the truth."
"A Bedaween!--a free Bedaween, who owns no master--a slave! Moto, you
are a liar; it is impossible. A Bedaween cannot live in slavery."
"But there are slaves with the Warori, and some are Arabs. I swear it,"
he added solemnly.
"Then for my part," said young Khamis, "I am glad that my father has
taken this road. The torments of Eblis light on the unbelieving dogs!
An Arab a slave! Then let every Mrori look to himself should he fall
into my power, for, by Mohammed's holy name, I will torture the reptile
to death."
"Hold, young master," said the deep-voiced Simba, halting a moment in
his work, and raising himself to his fullest height, which, as the
firelight danced on his gigantic form, seemed to add vastness to that
which was vast already. "Listen to me, Khamis, young son of Khamis bin
Abdullah; the Warori are bad, as you heard Moto say, but the Warori are
men, and I have heard a good Nazarene, one of the white men at Zanzibar,
say that all men are equal. If the Warori are men, and are lords of
their own soil, and if Arabs trouble them, or will not do them justice,
what great wrong are the Warori guilty of if they fight; and if they
catch Arabs prisoners in war, why should they not treat them as the
Arabs would treat the Warori? Answer me that."
"Why, Simba," asked the eldest of the sons of Mussoud, "do you know what
the sacred Kuran says? I remember what the good Imam has told me often:
`_Verily the fruit of the trees of Al Zakkum shall be the food of the
unbelievers, as the dregs of oil shall it boil in the bellies of the
damned, like the boiling of the hottest water. When ye encounter the
unbelievers strike off their heads until ye have made a great slaughter
among them, and bind them in bonds, and either give them a free
dismission afterwards or exact a ransom, until the war shall have laid
down its arms_.' And in another place the Kuran says, according to the
holy and learned Imam, `_And as to those who fight in defence of God's
true religion, God will not suffer their works to perish; he will guide
them, and will dispose their heart aright; and he will lead them into
paradise, of which he hath told them_.'"
"There, Simba," said Isa, triumphantly, "what do you think now of slaves
and true believers? Do you not think it right for us to take and
capture those who waylay us, and make them slaves for their perfidy and
savagery?"
"I think the same as before," answered Simba. "I do not know the Kuran
so well as Abdullah, it is true, but I know that the same God who gave
you sense and feeling gave the savages of Urori some sense and feeling
as well; but I should like to know what my young master Selim's thoughts
are upon these subjects."
"To tell you the simple truth would be to tell you that I never thought
much of these things," answered Selim, in a mild tone. "My father has
slaves, and my relations own a great number. They are all well looked
after, and I have never heard that they were much astonished at their
condition. I have seen slaves punished and killed; but they had done
wrong, and they deserved their punishment. Neither my father nor my
relations ever gave me to suppose that by keeping slaves they were
committing wrong, and you surely cannot expect me, who am but a boy and
the son of my father, to say anything against my elders. Whatever Amer
bin Osman does is right; at least, so I have heard men say, and shall I,
his son, judge him?"
"Bravely spoken," said the impetuous Khamis, "Bravely said, my brother
Selim; but, instead of speaking to Simba as thou hast done, thou
shouldst have taken thy kurbash (whip) to him, and taught the dog to
watch the doorstep of his master, and not be teaching the son of Amer."
"You are over hasty, Khamis," replied Selim, in a deprecating tone.
"Simba is good and true to me and to my father's household. My father
loves him, and I love him, black though he be, as if he were my brother.
Simba and Moto are worth their weight in the yellow metal which our
women love to adorn their necks with; yet, did it depend on my voice, a
thousand times their weight of gold would not purchase them."
Both Simba and Moto were so affected at this that they both fell on
their knees, and crawled up to their young master to embrace his feet,
thus testifying the great love they bore him; but Selim would not permit
this, and said:
"Nay, my good Simba, and you, Moto, rise. I think you men, not slaves,
and you need not kiss my feet to show me how much you love me. You are
my friends, and I shall ever esteem you as such."
"My good young master," said Simba, in a voice broken with emotion, "we
are your servants, and we are proud of it. Are we not, Moto?"
"Indeed, we are," said Moto.
"What Arab tribe can boast a lad of your years with so much beauty and
heart? Your eyes, young master, are blacker than the richest, ripest
singwe (a species of wild plume) of Urundi, and as large as those of the
sportive kalulu (young antelope); and when they are covered with your
eyelids, we have often compared them while you were asleep, and Moto and
I watched you, to the lotus which hides its beauty at eve from the fell
touch of night. And your flesh, though not white like the bloodless
pale children of the white races, is like the warmer colour of ivory,
and beautiful and clear as the polished ivory ornaments of my people in
Urundi: your limbs, clean and shapely, are firm and hard as ivory tusks.
You are like a young palm-tree in beauty and strength. He is a happy
man who calls you son, and your mother laughs for joy in her sleep when
she dreams of you. Your slaves are proud to call you master."
"Amen, and amen," responded Moto, while tears descended his cheeks.
"Simba has spoken nothing but the truth; he never utters lies. Master
Selim knows what Simba and Moto say they mean. Evil cannot approach him
while we are near, nor can danger lurk unseen. Rocks shall not wound
his feet, neither shall thorns prick his tender skin. If the journey is
long Simba is as strong as a camel, and Moto is fleet of foot as the
zebra, and enduring as the wild ass of Unyamwezi. Moto has spoken."
"Eh, Khamis, and thou, lea, hear and understand," said Selim, smiling.
"Where is the Arab who does not love the Nedjid mare, which partakes of
his food, as the wife of his bosom? But in Simba and Moto I have two
faithful friends. I have a camel, a zebra, and an ass, and you tell me
to beat them, Khamis. Fie, boy!"
"Boy, indeed! I am older than thou, and taller and stronger. Thou art
a child, or thou wouldst not believe the fulsome words of these lying
knaves. I have seen the world more than thou hast, and I assure thee on
my head I never saw the black man yet who could keep his hands from
stealing and his evil tongue from lying. I--Khamis, the son of Khamis,
the son of Abdullah--know whereof I am speaking."
"What a dear little child he is, to be sure!" laughed Isa. "Is it
Selim, the son of Amer, whose eyes are like the singwe of Urundi, and
whose limbs are like ivory? Eh, Khamis, my brother? Is Selim, the son
of Amer, turned a girl, that his ears court such music? And if thou art
of the complexion of ivory, what are we, I wonder--I, Isa, son of
Mohammed, and Khamis, son of Khamis?"
While Selim was blushing crimson from shame at the mocking words of Isa,
little Abdullah spoke up, and said, much to everybody's amusement except
Isa's:
"Why, Isa, dost thou mean to say that Selim is not good-looking? I have
often heard my father, Sheikh Mohammed, say he wished I was as
good-looking as Selim the son of Amer, though he thought I was every bit
as good. And, lea--now--don't be angry. I--I don't think thee
good-looking at all. Thou art almost as black as Simba, and--"
"Liar!" thundered Isa, directing a blow at Abdullah, which was happily
warded by Khamis, who, though ever-ready to lift the whip against stupid
slaves, was averse to see an Arab beaten. Isa, however, darting behind
Khamis aimed another blow at Abdullah; but Abdullah, probably seeing
that he was very angry, and would strike a serious blow, took to his
heels running round the fire, chased by the infuriate Isa. As Isa
passed near one side of the fire, Niani, the little negro boy called
Monkey, who had hitherto been very quiet, seeing a chance to assist
Abdullah, who had praised Selim, thrust his foot forward; and Isa, too
much occupied in watching the manoeuvres of Abdullah, struck his shins
against the obstacle, and came heavily to the ground.
A shout of laughter greeted his fall; but the amusement of Selim was
soon changed to real concern as he saw that Isa had quickly recovered
himself, and had sprung upon Niani, and catching hold of him by the
throat and legs, was carrying him to the great log-fire, to warm him, as
he said.
Niani struggled and screamed, but in vain. Isa's ears were closed
against a little slave's cries, and he would probably have made good his
threat had not Selim, Khamis, and Mussoud, aided by Simba and Moto,
interfered, and cried out, "Enough, enough, son of Mohammed. Be not
wrathful with a little slave."
As Arabs dislike to see scuffling, or at least always interfere in cases
of this kind, it is not to be wondered at Khamis taking the part of
Niani, or Simba and Moto exerting their manhood to prevent cruelty; but
Niani was not released scot-free; he received several energetic slaps
and kicks, which accelerated his departure to a safer distance.
This incident broke up the meeting. Simba and Moto withdrew to their
mats on each side of their master Amer's tent. Khamis, Isa, and Mussoud
retired to their respective parents' tents, and Selim entered the tent
of Amer bin Osman.
Sheikh Amer was seated on his mat in the tent, writing by the light of a
single tallow candle on a large broad sheet of stiff white paper; but as
Selim entered he put his papers by, and bending on his son an earnest
and melancholy look, said:
"My son, light of my soul and joy of my heart, come to me, and do thou
sit by me that I may feel thy cheery presence. Dost thou know that my
soul feels heavy to-night, as if some great affliction was about to
visit me?"
"And what, my father," replied the boy, bending a loving look on him,
"couldst thou fear? Art thou not surrounded by kind friends and
servants who love thee as their father?"
"Nay, my son, it is not fear that I feel, but a vague foreshadowing of
evil which none can feel save those who have much to lose. On whose
head the evil will fall I know not, nor do I know from what direction
the evil may come; but that evil is nigh in some indistinct shape or
another my soul knows, and it is that which has cast this passing cloud
over it. But let us speak of other subjects. I have been occupied in
writing letters to Zanzibar to my friends, telling them of the new route
these wayward companions of ours have adopted, and giving directions
about the disposition of my property. Thou knowest, Selim, my child,
how I have always loved thee and treated thee, for thou art my hope and
joy, and I may not hide it from thee. Should accident happen to me it
will be well for me to warn thee now that thou hast an uncle from whom
may Allah guard thee. He is a deep, designing man, though he is my
brother. Should I die, thy uncle will endeavour to do thee harm, and it
is against him I wish to guard thee."
"But, father Amer, what harm can my uncle do me, and why should he wrong
me, who have never done him wrong in word, or thought, or deed?" asked
Selim, surprised at the tone of his father's voice and this revelation.
"Thou art but a child of tender years and but little aware of the amount
of wickedness in this world. Thy uncle is an avaricious man, who would
rob thee of thy birthright could he do it, and I believe him to be bad
enough to injure thee in some covert way if it were possible. My
property amounts to about fifty thousand dollars in slaves and land, and
if I die, this property, by right of thy birth as eldest son, is thine
wholly, and under no condition or restraint. Wert thou and thy mother
to die it would become the property of my brother Bashid, who is a
cunning and unscrupulous man."
"Thou dost surprise me, my father; but thou art well, and in good hopes
of a long life. I hope thou wilt live a thousand years; I am happy only
in being thy son," answered Selim.
"I know it, my son; and if ever a dutiful child made the years of his
father seem light, I have that child in thee, but it is well to be
provident for those whom we love. For the rest, the will of God be
done. There is another subject I wished to converse with thee upon, and
that is thy marriage. Dost thou know Leilah?"
"What! Leilah, the daughter of Khamis bin Abdullah?" asked Selim.
"The same," answered Amer.
"Surely, I know her. Have we not played together when we were children,
and, now I bethink me, she is the loveliest girl at Zanzibar."
"It is well," said Amer. "Leilah, the daughter of Khamis bin Abdullah
is wedded to thee, and the settlements are made between friend Khamis
and myself. Should evil happen to me--which God forefend--on thy return
to Zanzibar, if thou art of age, seek thou Khamis or, in Khamis's
absence, his kinsmen, and claim thou thy wife according unto the custom
of thy tribe. I have prepared this future for thee that thou mayst not,
like the degenerate Arabs at Zanzibar, seek a wife among strangers to
thy race and tribe, and bring disgrace upon the name of my father Osman.
Thy kinsmen are proud and belong to the pure Arab race, and they would
not think well of my memory if I had neglected to warn thee of thy duty
to me and the tribe of which Osman was so loved. Bear thou my words in
thy mind, write them upon the tablets of thy heart, and obey. Dost thou
promise?"
"As God liveth, and as thy soul liveth," responded Selim earnestly, "to
hear is to obey. I shall cherish as a holy thing thy wish."
"Then do thou retire and rest. These papers are to be committed to the
care of two of my servants, who will return to Zanzibar to-morrow, when
they will, upon arrival, present them to the Imam. God shield thee from
evil, and may He avert it always from all of us," said Amer, as he
resumed his work.
"Amen and amen!" replied Selim; and, after embracing his father, he
quietly retired to his carpet to sleep the sleep of the innocent and
young.
At early dawn next morning the horns of the several kirangozis, or
guides, of the respective caravans blew loud and cheerily, calling on
all to prepare for the march.
Before an hour had elapsed, the tents had been struck and folded, and
each carrier, bearing his burden of cloth or beads (which were to be
used for barter for ivory with the tribes in the far interior, or were,
in the meanwhile, to purchase food as the caravan journeyed) or bearing
the beds, and carpets, and rugs, cooking utensils, and despatch-boxes,
was following his leaders as he stepped out briskly for the march.
The Arab chiefs remained behind to bring up the rear, and then, giving
their rifles in charge to their gun-bearers or favourite slaves,
followed on the road their caravans had taken.
The country before them broke out into knolls and tall cone-like hills,
whose slopes were covered with here and there patches of dense jungle,
or nourished young forests whose umbrage formed a most grateful shade
during the heat of day.
Soon they had passed the healthy, breezy hills which are but offshoots
of the Uruguru range, and the land now eloped before them into the low,
flat basin of the Wami river, which during the rainy season becomes one
great swamp.
But the season, at the time our travellers passed over the Makata
Plain--as the basin is called--was soon after the effects of the violent
monsoon had disappeared, in July, when the land presents an unusually
bleached appearance; the grass is crispy, ripe, and extremely dry, the
ground is seamed with ugly rents and gape, and the rivers, Little Makata
and Mbengerenga, are but little better than small rivulets. The
caravans were therefore enabled to cross the breadth of the Makata Plain
within two days, and arrived at Mbumi in Usagara on the evening of the
second day.
From Mbumi, in the same order as before, avoiding the Mukondokwa Yalley,
the steep passes of Bubeho, and the desolate, forlorn-looking plains of
Ugogo, the lengthy file of men--carriers, soldiers, and slaves--skirted
the eastern end of the Mukondokwa range, and on the third day from
Simbamwenni, arrived in a country which differed materially in aspect
from that which they had just left. Mountains of a loftier altitude, in
peak upon peak, in tier upon tier, range upon range, met the eye
everywhere. Green trees covered their slopes in an apparently endless
expanse of vegetation. The sycamore, the tamarind, the beautiful mimosa
and kolqual vied with each other in height and beauty, while a thousand
other trees, shrubs, plants, and flowers aided to give verdancy and
freshness to the scene.
Down the hard, steep, rocky beds of granite and sandstone, with here and
there basalt and porphyry, flint, and quartz, foamed the sparkling
streams, which, when encountered on an African journey, give zest to the
travel and add something to the pleasures of memory. A deep gaping
fissure in a high jutting wall of rock, through which bubbled the clear
water in volumes, or a great towering rock, with perpendicular walls, to
which clung, despite the apparent impossibility, ferns, and plants, and
moss, thick and velvety, or a conical hill, which ambitiously hid its
head in clouds, were scenes to be treasured up when the march should
hereafter become monotonous through excessive sameness of feature.
When they were in camp and had rested, our young friends went into
raptures over the bold beauty of mountain scenery, and Belim, and
Abdullah, and Mussoud were constantly heard uttering their exclamations
of admiration. Selim especially, imbued as he was with the religious
faith of his father, was filled with a loftier feeling than that
youthful glow and exhilaration which his companions felt. Had he the
power, he would like to have poured out his soul in fervid verse about
the grandeur, the indescribable beauty of Nature in her wildest and most
prolific mood. But being as yet a boy, in whom the poetic instinct and
feeling is strong, he said to his father, one day, as the scenery was
unusually picturesque:
"Hast thou ever, my father, during these days of travel over these great
mountain-tops, thought that Palestine, the promised land, must be
something like this? The land flowing with milk and honey. Why, honey
is already plentiful here--we need but the cows to furnish milk; but if
milk means the richness of earth, the never-dying fertility of the soil,
look but once on this view now before us, and tell me, think you
Palestine can be richer than this? Why, I feel--I do not exactly know
what--but it is something that if I have never been good or thankful to
Allah for his goodness to men, that I could be good for ever in future.
Do you understand this feeling, father Amer, or is it singular in me?"
"No, it is not singular, my dear son; but go on, tell me what is in thy
mind," replied Sheikh Amer, himself gazing on the revealed might of
Nature.
"I have also a feeling--as if I knew it for the first time--that this
earth is large, very large, that it is immense, without limit or
boundary, and that, consequently, God, who made all this, must be truly
great. With the mountain air which I now inhale I seem to have imbibed
something purer, more subtle; yet that thing is capable of giving me
more expansion. Why was it that, before coming to these mountains, I
never thought upon this subject? Why was it that, before to-day, I had
no one thought of what might happen to-morrow, beyond what might happen
to our caravan, or beyond what I should see on the road? Yet at this
moment, though my eyes seem to rest upon this view of loveliness, I know
I do not look upon its details or any particular object, but they seem
to drink it all with one look, and more, infinitely more, than is
contained in the area before me. I seem to have eyes in my mind which
have a keener sight, more extended vision, greater power than the eyes
of my head, which can see so far, and no farther. Yet to the sight of
the inner eyes, which see not, yet can see a thousand times vaster
scene, a thousand times greater prospect is revealed. Hills, dales,
mountains, plains, valleys, forests, rivers, lakes, seas, all lovely,
and lovelier than what we see now, are comprehended within the scope of
my hidden and unseen eyes. What is this new sight or feeling, my
father? Canst thou tell me?"
"Ah, my child, it is simply the awakening of the hitherto latent mind;
or thought, exercised by but a faint experience, has been touched by
Nature, and begins to dawn," replied Amer. "God had endowed thee with
the power of thought and of mind when he gave thee life. It was
impossible that it could remain for ever hidden. The hour that a child
begins to exercise his mind seeth him advanced a step nearer to manhood.
It will kindle and expand as thou growest in years, and in each day's
march thou wilt find fresh food for it. It remains with God and thine
own nature to improve it with every breath of air thy lungs inhale. By
diligently reading the Kuran and studying the precepts of Mohammed--
blessed be his name!--thou wilt so protect that thought pure from evil
as the tiny germ God implanted in thy breast at thy birth."
"But tell me, father, one thing--it is different from that which thou
hast been just telling me," asked Selim. "Thou knowest Simba and Moto
are thy slaves. Is it right, or is it not, to own slaves?"
"It is right, certainly, my son. The Kuran sanctions it, and it has
been a custom from of old with our race to own slaves. What has
prompted thee to such a question? Is it another sign of the growth of
thy mind?" his father asked, with a smile.
"I know not," replied Selim, bending his head like one who hesitated to
speak his mind or was unable to comprehend the drift of his own thought.
"But thou knowest Simba and Moto are good; they love thyself and me
exceedingly, and as I know better than others that thou art just, and
lovest justice for its own sake, wouldst thou think it right to retain
thy slaves in bondage if they thought it injustice to them?"
"Ha! where is it possible thou couldst have gained such ideas, child?
But, never mind, since thy thoughts run so wild, I will answer thee,"
replied Amer. "No, it is not right in me, or any living man, to retain
a slave in his possession, if the slave thinks it injustice, or if his
slavery galls him; neither is it fair that, after I have purchased him
with my money, I should give him his liberty for the mere asking; but
strict justice would demand that I set a price of money on his head, or
a term of labour equivalent to the money I paid for him; and, on the
payment of such money, or on the conclusion of such labour, that he be
for ever freed from bondage. So says the Kuran, and such is our law,
and such has been my practice, and I would advise thee to do likewise
when the time shall come."
"I thank thee, my father; it is all clear to me now. But stop! harken
to that sound! What may that be? Can it be the hyaena?"
"Yes, the hyaenas are out early this evening. They are hungry; but,
Selim, my son, haste to tell Simba and Moto to set the tent on that flat
piece of ground near that great tree, and bid them to be sure to turn
the door of the tent to-day towards the east."
"Yes, my father;" and Selim, the fleet-footed youth, agile as a young
leopard, leaped over several bushes, as he ran to do his parent's
bidding.
The camp was situated on a limited terrace or shelf of ground rising
above a body of water which more resembled a long narrow lake than a
river. Yet it was the river Lofu, or Rufu, as some call it, which in
the dry season, like many an African river, loses its current, and
becomes a series of long narrow pools, which in some places may be
compared to lakes for their length, according to the nature of the
ground wherein these depressions are found. If the ground is rocky, or
of clayey mud, the water is retained, instead of being absorbed, in
which swarm multitudes of the _silurus_, or bearded mud-fish. Wherever
mud-fish are abundant, crocodiles, the great fish-eating reptiles of the
African water, are sure to be found; and wherever crocodiles are found
one is almost sure to find the hippopotamus, the behemoth of Scripture;
not because crocodiles and hippopotami have any affinity with each
other, but because the soil, which retains the water during the hot days
of the droughty season, is almost sure to produce in the vicinity of the
pools abundance of rich grass and tall cane, the food of the
hippopotamus.
About two hours before sunset, soon after camping, Selim, accompanied by
Simba and two other men, named Baruti and Mombo, sallied out of the camp
with his faithful rifle on his shoulder to hunt for game.
The party travelled towards the upper end of the narrow lake the caravan
had camped by. Matete cane, spear, and tiger grass, in profusion, grew
near this end, and beyond lay a thin jungle, the borders of which
touched the water line. It was to this jungle they directed their
steps, for Simba had judged that it was a promising place for such sport
as Selim desired.
When the party arrived in the jungle they found the place so
delightfully cool, that they could not resist the inclination to rest
awhile and cool themselves after the labour and toil of going through
the long grass.
Simba and Selim sought the deeper shade of a mammoth and far-spreading
tamarind tree, while Baruti sought a place about thirty yards from the
tamarind, and Mombo, fatigued with the long journey over the mountains
that day, reclined under a young mimosa near the water's edge.
The coolness of the retreat, the silence which prevailed, and the
weariness which had come over their tired frames soon induced sleep.
They had not been in this condition long, before the reader, had he or
she been there surveying the scene, might have heard the faintest sound
of a ripple on the water, and have seen a crocodile's head stealthily
rise above the surface, the eyes, cold and fixed, gazing over the
slightly protuberant nose, to the spot where Mombo lay. A few minutes
the crocodile thus lay still as a heavy sappy log, more than
three-fourths buried in the water, but almost imperceptibly the heavy
body became buoyant, until the lengthy form, with great ridgy scales
marking the line of its spine, lay half uncovered. Without a movement
of the long powerful tail, and with but the faintest motion of his
heavy, broad, short legs, he propelled himself towards the shore.
A minute he rested there, still as death. One could not have sworn that
it was an animal, though one might have been sure, provided no one
suggested a cause for doubt. He then lifted his long head, but with the
same cautious movement which always characterises this stealthy,
cowardly creature of the African deeps, then his enormously long body,
until he resembled a huge log, propped up by four short pins--the legs
appeared so out of proportion. Anybody at first glance would have seen
that in the great, unwieldy form lay tremendous power. The trunk of the
largest elephant that was ever born would not equal in size that long
tail, which seemed, on account of its length and weight, slightly bent
towards the ground at the tip.
Having again halted, he moved forward silently, with a slightly waddling
motion; and as he approached the sleeping form of Mombo, his movements
were as slow and cautious as those of a leopard before springing upon
its prey; but the monster made one hurried, convulsive movement forward,
the lower jaw was run under the sleeping man's leg, and the upper jaw
came down with a sound like a well-oiled and sound steel spring, and the
crocodile swung the limp, warm body around, as a man would swing a cat
by the tail. But this swinging movement proved to be poor Mombo's
salvation, for he was thus swung against a strong young tree, to which
he now clung with the strong tenacity of a man who clings for life,
while he gave vent to the full power of his lungs in cries so alarming
and shrill that they were heard at the camp of the caravans two miles
off. Selim, Simba, and Baruti realised the scene in an instant; they
saw the great reptile, horrible and hideous as a nightmare, tugging
violently at the leg of the unfortunate man, whose screams pierced their
ears, and whose arms almost cracked as he held on with such a fierce
grip to the strong young sapling, and they saw that had it not been for
its fortunate proximity to him they had never seen Mombo more.
Simba was the first to recover himself, for Selim and Baruti stood as
men transfixed.
"Now, master," said he, "your gun--quick! or he will run away. Aim at
once; but be cool, or you will kill Mombo. Aim just at his throat, as
you see his head lifted up. There, son of Amer, you have slain the
brute! Ah! he is trying to escape. Hyah! on, Baruti; your spear, man!
Run! come with me, and catch hold of his tall. Two of us can hold him,
I think, or delay him at least until he dies. There--take that, you
beast!" he shouted as he hurled his broad-bladed spear full through his
side, behind the fore leg, into his vitals, which stretched the monster
lifeless after one or two convulsive efforts.
Baruti, encouraged by Simba's powerful voice, which roared through the
wood in accents so cheery, had at first boldly dashed at the crocodile's
tail; but receiving a tremendous thwack on his side from the mighty
tail, which was swung about as though it were a well-handled flail--
which almost fractured every rib in his body--now stood by, looking
fearfully punished and sore.
When the monster had ceased to breathe, Selim and Simba, attracted by
the moans of Mombo, hastened to him to examine his condition.
"Poor fellow!" said Selim. "See Simba, the leg is stripped to the bone.
What a savage reptile the crocodile is! Do you think Mombo will live,
Simba? For after this I should not like to see him die; it would seem
as if my big bullet had done no good after all."
"He will live, Inshallah! Inshallah! (Please God! Please God!) Mombo
will live to tell the story to his children on the island when he is an
old man and past work. You know the hakim (doctor) with us is wise and
learned, and, Inshallah! Mombo, after a few days, will be all right.
Sho! Mombo die? No, master; Mombo will live to laugh at this. But we
must carry him to the camp that the hakim may dress his wounds. Come,
Baruti, man--cease your cries. Take your hatchet and cut young straight
trees down while I prepare some rope whereon Mombo may be carried. You,
young master, may cut a piece of the crocodile's tail to show your
father Amer, who will be proud of what you have done."
They all three set to work. Baruti cut two young trees, which he
barked. Simba made use of the bark as rope, and in a short time a
comfortable bed had been made, on which Mombo was carefully lifted, and,
in a few moments, Selim having secured his trophy, the three friends set
out briskly on their return to camp.
Young Selim, who had "bagged" his first game, was highly gratified by
the praise bestowed on him by his father and his father's people, and
the braggart Isa was the only one of his boy-fellows who refused to say
a kind word in commendation of the feat. Noble young Khamis, on the
other hand, did not stint his appreciation of it, and youthful Abdullah
and Mussoud hung about Selim as though he were some suddenly-discovered
hero. The chieftain Khamis bin Abdullah, the noble leader of the united
caravans, took from his waist a gold-hafted curved dagger as a token of
his esteem, and Sheikh Mohammed presented him with a crimson silk sash
to put around his waist. Sultan bin Ali, the patriarch of the
expedition, who was the very type of a venerable Arab chief, gave him
out of his treasure a red fez-cap with a golden tassel, and Sheikh
Mussoud gave him a Muscat turban of a rich cherry pattern, so that
Selim, before night, was arrayed in costly garments.
The slaves among themselves did Selim honour by praising him around the
camp-fires, and Halimah, the black woman-cook of Amer bin Osman, as she
turned her ugali (porridge), declared, by this and by that, that Selim
was the noblest, sweetest lad she had ever seen.
Selim would have slept that night the sleep of those who do praiseworthy
actions, had he not been awakened at midnight by a loud shriek from one
of his father's slaves, whose right cheek was completely ripped off by a
prowling hyaena. The disturbance in the dead hour of night alarmed some
of the younger slaves, but they were calmed by the wise and experienced
Moto, who said sententiously that "the hyaena is a cowardly brute, who
would run away at the sight of a child in the daytime, and who could
only fight sleeping or dead men."
After these incidents, which occurred at the stagnant pools of the Lofu,
the caravans continued, their march uninterruptedly until they arrived
among the Wahehe, a tribe of predatory people who live south of the
great arid plain country of Ugogo.
The first night, before going to sleep after their arrival in Uhehe, the
kirangozi of Khamis bin Abdullah rose up at the command of his master--
and spoke out in a loud voice to the united caravans:
"Words, words, words! Listen, ye children of the Arabs, sons of the
great chiefs, Khamis bin Abdullah, Amer bin Osman, Sultan bin Ali, the
Sheikhs Mussoud, Abdullah, Bashid, Hamdan, Thani, and Nasib! Open your
ears, ye people of Zanzibar! Ye are among the Wahehe. Ye are in the
land of thieves, and night-prowlers. Be wary and alert, my friends;
sleep with one eye open; let not your hands forget your guns. When ye
meet the prowling Wahehe in your camps at night, shoot and kill all
such. Do ye hear?"
"We do," was answered by six hundred voices.
"Do ye understand?" he again asked.
"Yes," they all replied.
"It is well; the kirangozi Kingaru, slave of Khamis bin Abdullah, has
spoken."
For two days they travelled through Uhehe without molestation, but on
the evening of the third day Sheikh Amer commanded his tent-pitchers to
set his tent close against the hedge of brush and thorn (which always
surrounds a camp in Africa when it is procurable), for the convenience
of his household, the members of which could thus by a slight gap pass
in and out freely to the pool to get water or to procure wood for the
fire, without being compelled to traverse the length of the camp.
A couple of hours before dawn, when people sleep heaviest, and their
slumbers are supposed to be soundest, Simba, who always slept lightly at
night, because of the responsible cares which a just and faithful
conscience ever imposed on him, was awakened by the crushing of a twig.
He never stirred, but continued his regular breathing as before, and
compelled his ears to do their duty to the utmost. After a little time
his quickened hearing was rewarded by the sound of a human foot pressing
softly, yet heavily, the ground near him. The gap, left imprudently
open, which fronted the tent-door of Amer bin Osman, was that to which
his cautious gaze was directed. By the light of the stars, which shine
in Africa with unusual light, he saw the very faintest resemblance to a
human figure, which held in one hand something darker than its own body,
yet not so long, and in the other a long staff, at one end of which
there was a cold glimmer of faint light, or reflection of light, which
he supposed at once, and rightly, to be a spear. That human figure was
that of an intruder. A friend had never stood so long in that gap, or
advanced so stealthily. A wild beast would have advanced with as much
circumspection and caution--why not a human enemy? The instincts of
both man and beast are the same in the silence of night, when about to
act hostilely.
Simba still lay seemingly unconscious of duty--unconscious of the danger
which menaced the occupants of his master's tent; but could that human
enemy have seen through the gloomy mist of night those large, watchful
eyes of the recumbent form stretched almost within reach of him, he had
surely hesitated before advancing another step towards that open
tent-door.
All seemed still, and the figure bent down and moved in a crawling
posture towards the open door, wherein lay Selim and his father,
unconscious of the dangerous presence of an armed intruder. But Simba's
eyes were not idle, though silent. What thing on earth does its work so
quietly as the eye? They followed the crawling form unwinkingly, until
it had half entered the open door; then Simba raised his head, finally
his body, upright to its full gigantic height. The feet of the daring
intruder were within tempting reach of those long muscular arms if he
but stooped, and Simba knew it. He stood up one short second or so, as
if he summoned threefold strength with the lungful of air he but halted
to inhale; then quickly stooping, he caught hold of the robber's feet,
and giving utterance to a loud triumphant cry, swung him two or three
times around his head, and dashed his head against the great flat stone
on which, a few hours before, the woman-cook, Halimah, had ground her
master's corn, and then tossed him lifeless over the hedge of the camp
as carrion!!
In an instant, as it were, the camp was awake, and fires burned brightly
everywhere. The cause of the disturbance was soon made known all over
the camp, and curious men came rushing by the score to the scene of the
tragedy, to gaze upon the victim of his own savage lust for plunder or
murder. Amer bin Osman, when he heard the explanation of Simba, took a
torch, and followed by Selim and others, went to gaze upon the dead man.
One look satisfied him that the man was a Mhehe, who had armed himself
with a long oval-shaped shield, broad-bladed spear, and battle-axe, for
a desperate enterprise.
When Amer raised his head, he seemed to be studying what the intention
of the man might have been, and he retraced his steps backwards to the
tent-door, and looked in, as if to consider what might have been done,
or stolen, had he succeeded in his attempt. Then, looking at Selim's
pale face, who had also arrived at the same opinion as his father, a
grateful look stole over his features; he said to his son with a smile:
"Well, boy, thou hast to thank Simba for thy safety, for thy head lay
uncomfortably near that door; and hadst thou awakened, thy life had not
been worth much. What hast thou to say to Simba, Selim?"
The boy turned his large bright eyes upon Simba's face, which glowed
with honest pride and affection, and then they measured the giant limbs,
the tremendous arms, and the broad heaving chest, and to his father's
question propounded another, which rather startled his father:
"Simba is a great strong man, but whom dost thou value more, father--thy
son Selim or thy slave Simba?"
"Why, son of mine, what a question! Art thou not the child of my loins,
and of my dear Amina? and have I ever failed in my love for thee?"
"Never--no, never, dear father; but Simba has given thy son back again
to thee, else had I been dead. Has Simba paid thee full valuation for
the purchase-money thou didst pay for him when he was a child?"
"Simba is good; but had I lost thee, I had surely lost all. Thou hast
said it, my child. Simba is free, and is no longer a slave of Amer bin
Osman."
"Simba!" cried Selim, "good Simba, do you hear the words of my father?
You are a man, and no longer a slave!"
Simba at first did not seem to comprehend the full meaning of the words
addressed to him, but as the words of the boy whose life he had saved
were repeated to him, a proud smile lit his features, and as he tossed
his head back, while his nostrils dilated, he said:
"A slave! It is an ugly word; but Simba, of the Wahuma, of Urundi, was
in his own mind never a slave, so the word troubled him. Simba might
long ago have been free, had he wished it, but he loved his master,
Amer, and Sheikh Amer's son; so he remained their servant, and while
being their servant he never forgot that he was a man. Simba is
grateful to Amer and his son Selim, and while he remembers that he is
free, Simba will be happy only in remembering also that he is their
servant;" saying which, he bent his knee and kissed the right hand of
father and son.
"Ah, Simba, my friend!" cried Selim, "I shall call thee friend in
future, and thou shalt say `thou' to me, and I `thou' to thee, as my
father and I say to each other; and if thou art grateful, Selim has also
a heart, and can feel."
"Then, boys," said Amer, breaking in upon this interchange of
compliments, "to bed, and sleep your sleep out. Let a watch be kept,
lest the Wahehe robbers come to avenge the dead dog of a thief, and upon
the first appearance of anything suspicious, sound the alarm instantly."
The night passed without further alarm or disturbance of any kind, and
at the usual hour of the morning the signal horns aroused the camp for
the fatigue of another day's march.
As the caravans were about leaving their camp, a group of Wahehe
strolled up carelessly, similarly armed to the one who had met his fate
so suddenly at the hands of Simba. As they were advancing towards the
central gate of the camp, their quick eyes caught sight of the dead body
of their comrade, and hastening towards it, they regarded it with wonder
depicted on their faces. On stooping down to examine the head, they
found it elongated into a hideous, formless shape, and not being able to
contain their surprise, they questioned as to why and how it all came
about.
Said Moto, who had keenly noted these signs, and had approached the
group to answer their expected queries, "Ah, my brothers! some men are
bad, very bad, and fools. What could have possessed this man to try and
rob a caravan of 600 armed souls, I cannot say, unless it was the evil
spirit. Do you see that big man with the great battle-axe in his belt,
and a long ivory horn slung to his shoulder? That big man caught this
thief in the tent of Amer bin Osman: he seized him by the feet, and
whirling him around, he brought his head down flat on that stone."
"Eyah! eyah!" said the astonished Wahehe. "He must be the evil spirit
himself; but all thieves should die, and if, as you say, this man was
caught at night in the camp, he has earned his death."
"Say you so, my brothers?" said Moto; "then it is well. But listen to
me; if the wind came to steal in our camp that big man would know it.
He seems never to sleep, never to rest; he could smell a Mhehe at night
afar off."
"Eyah, eyah, ey-eyah!! He must be the evil spirit." Saying which they
departed, muttering to themselves and looking very much crestfallen.
The caravans journeyed on for several days after the incidents just
related without meeting anything worthy of note in these pages. The
western part of Uhehe is very uninteresting; one march follows another
through the same _triste_ scenery. A long reach of country to the right
and the left, covered with short ripe grass, dotted with a ragged clump
of thorn-bush here and there, or a solitary baobab stem, unbending in
its vast girth and thickness of twigs, alone met the wearied eyes of the
travellers. The Wahehe, the southern Wagogo, mixed with a stray Wakimbu
family or two, permitted such a large caravan to pass without
molestation, so that the march was getting exceedingly monotonous. But
when, after crossing an unusually arid plain of some extent, they saw
before them a long line of white rocky bluffs, the people began to
whisper among themselves that "beyond those bluffs lay the lands of the
populous Warori, who are mostly shepherds, and will not, if in the mood
to quarrel, regard our numbers or strength."
It was the tenth week of the departure of the Arabs from Simbamwenni
when the above-mentioned bluffs were crossed, and the pastoral country
of the Warori extended far before them in a succession of wooded
hollows, bare uplands, and jungle-covered plains.
Those who knew Moto, the slave of Amer bin Osman, were startled at the
remarkable physical resemblance he bore to the majority of the shepherds
and villagers, who grouped themselves along the road to wonder at the
wealth of the Arab caravans, and to make their rustic comments upon what
they did not understand.
The Warori, however, did not seem disposed to dispute their advance, but
stood contentedly gazing at the strange sight of some of the whiter
faces among the Arabs. For instance, Khamis bin Abdullah and his son
Khamis, Amer bin Osman and his son Selim, and the boys Abdullah and
Mussoud. This paleness of complexion became often a matter of eager
speculation, and as those who, fortunately or unfortunately, possessed
white faces passed by, the straining of eyes and the narrow scrutiny
were amusing to witness, and afforded Selim more especially some
discomfort at first. The shepherds and villagers furthermore willingly
bartered whatever the Arabs wished for red beads and American domestic.
Milk, butter, and eggs were plentiful, which, to the Arab boys, were
rare treats after the dry heat and desolate aspect of Western Uhehe.
The arms which these shepherds carried were far more formidable than
anything they had hitherto seen in the hands of savages. Their bows
were longer and heavier, and their arrows longer and more cruelly
barbed, and besides a lengthy broad-bladed spear, which resembled a
broad Roman sword fastened to a staff, and half a dozen lighter spears--
assegais--and a battle-axe, they carried a knife which might be likened
to a broadsword for length and breadth.
On the sixth day after their entrance into Urori, the caravans came
within sight of a large palisaded village called Kwikuru, or the
capital. It contained about eight hundred huts, strongly protected by a
lofty fence of hard red wood. This Tillage was protected on one side by
a stream of considerable magnitude. On the other side of the village
was a grove of fine trees situated from it a distance of about 1000
yards. Into this grove the Arabs marched to encamp.
Kwikuru, or the capital, was a good distinction awarded to the village,
or town rather, for its size and importance; for, next to Simbamwenni,
it was the most populous place they had found in Africa. Cattle grazed
by the thousand a little distance off from the grove, attended by
watchful and well-armed herdsmen. The lowing of the cows, and the
bleating of the sheep and goats, and the braying of a few large donkeys,
were welcome sounds to travellers, to whom such sights in Africa were
rare. And the long extent of well-tilled ground, in which grew the
Indian corn, the manioc, the _holcus sorghum_, the sugar-cane, and
plantain, with abundance of vegetables and melons, enhanced the pleasure
the Arabs' people naturally felt, unaccustomed as they were, since
leaving Zanzibar, to feast their eyes upon such scenes.
Late in the afternoon, after the Arab chiefs had, with commendable
caution, constructed a dense hedge of bush and branches around their
camp, they called a meeting to discuss the measures they should take to
open friendly communication with the formidable citizens of Kwikuru.
When they were all assembled, the leader Khamis said to them:
"My friends, we are at last in Urori, where I suspect we shall have to
conduct ourselves differently from what we have been accustomed to. I
mean that I fear that tribute may be exacted by the King, and I have
called you here to advise prudence, and to ask you to use tact in all
your dealings with them. We may have to pay a heavy tribute, for this
King is evidently powerful and rich, and a mean present of cloth I
expect he will refuse."
"Khamis," said Sultan bin Ali, "thou hast done well to advise us upon
this beforehand. What amount of cloth dost thou think will suffice this
man's greed? We may be liberal, for we can afford it, but we have not
one doti (four yards) of cloth too much."
The chief answered, "I do not know as yet what amount will suffice, but
let us begin prudently, for in that course is wisdom. I suggest that
six doti be made up; two doti (eight yards) of Joho cloth for the King,
two doti of light checks for his wife, one doti of Muscat check with the
red and yellow borders for his eldest son, and one doti of good Kaniki
(blue cotton) for the principal elder."
"That idea seems excellent to me," said Sultan bin Ali, "and Amer, thou
hast a cunning slave called Moto, a Mrori, I believe; let him and
another good man take the cloths to the King with words of friendship
from us, that we may pass through the country in tranquillity and peace
with all men."
This advice meeting the approbation of all the chiefs, Moto, accompanied
by the kirangozi of Khamis bin Abdullah, who was learned in all the
languages of Eastern Central Africa, sallied out of the camp in the
direction of Kwikuru, while the Arabs sat in the tent of their leader,
hospitably entertained with the beet that the larder could furnish.
An hour had barely elapsed before Moto and the kirangozi, or guide,
returned to the camp; and going directly to the principal tent, kneeled
before the door and said to the Arabs:
"Salaam Aleikum!" (Peace be unto you.) To which greeting the Arabs
responded with one voice:
"Aleikum Salaam!" (And unto you be peace.)
"Well, Moto, speak," said Khamis. "Why, you have brought the present
back! You have been unsuccessful?"
"These are the King's words, which he commanded me to tell you: `Why
have you come to my country? Know you not that there is enmity between
the Warori and the children of the Arabs? Mostana, the great chief whom
the cruel traders slew, was my friend; and can I forget his death with
such a contemptible present as that which you have brought to me? Go
slaves, and tell your masters that, unless they send me fifty bales of
cloth, and fifty guns, with twenty barrels of gunpowder, they must
return the way they came.' These, my masters, are the words which
Olimali bade us tell you."
A deep silence followed this declaration of the King of Kwikuru, and the
Arabs instinctively looked at one another in surprise and dismay.
Sheikh Mohammed, the black-browed Arab, resolute and determined as he
always was, first broke the silence with the question, directed to Moto:
"Have you regarded well this village of Olimali?"
"I have, master," said Moto.
"Is it strong? Speak, for I respect your opinion, Moto."
"It is strong, master, much too strong for us to attack it with our
people. If the Warori come out of their village they could not take
this camp while our men remained within."
"That is well-spoken, Moto," replied Mohammed; and turning to Sheikh
Khamis, he asked:
"Hast thou decided what to do, son of Abdullah?"
"Mashallah! my friend, can I decide upon so important a subject as
giving away thy property to this greedy infidel? May his soul perish in
Al Hotamah! Does he think that cloth, and guns, and powder grow in the
jungles of Africa? But this is serious, and we must set on our heads
the caps of wisdom and understanding to consider the determination of
Olimali. Speak, friends, Arabs of Muscat and chiefs of Zanzibar, my
ears are open."
Out spoke Amer bin Osman: "Do you think, Moto, if we offered half he
would accept?"
"No, master, I do not. I think Olimali desires war and not peace, and
if he thought you would send fifty bales of cloth, he would ask for
fifty more. I heard the people talk, as I left the King's presence, of
war. My ears are very sharp."
"War!" shouted Mohammed, "then war he shall have, and I shall have the
pleasure to put light through his body with my good Shiraz sword;" and
Sheikh Mohammed looked as fierce as his threat.
"Peace, Mohammed, my friend," said Sultan bin Ali. "It is not everyone
who trusteth in his sword flourisheth. I think there are more ways of
tiding over this evil hour than by war, even if we were doubly strong
with men and guns. Let us act prudently in the hour of danger."
"Sultan bin Ali is right," said Sheikh Thani. "Rather let us try all
pacific measures first, and let war be the last resource. We have
slaves, and women, and little ones in the camp, besides much property.
We must remember this before we act hastily."
"Thani has spoken well, and with understanding; and I propose that we
send forty good cloths and forty ordinary cloths, besides an odd gun or
two, with half a keg of powder to Olimali by Moto and the kirangozi, who
will speak him fairly and with due respect," said the leader, Khamis.
"I do not go again," said Moto. "What I have seen in the village, and
what my ears have heard are no light things, and I would ask permission
from my master to remain."
"Well, never mind, any man will do who has a smooth tongue and fair
speech," said Khamis. "Let the kirangozi choose whom he will take, and
let him go with the cloth."
A man was readily found, who, ignorant of the danger, had no reason to
refuse to go upon the errand which the always bold Moto had refused.
But even as the guide and his companion were leaving the camp Moto saw
he had acted wisely, for the cattle were being driven towards the
village with far more expedition than the time of day warranted; but he
held his tongue, not wishing to alarm the camp unnecessarily.
He followed the movements of the kirangozi and his companion with
exceeding interest until they had arrived at the gate, where they were
halted; and after a short pause, he saw the two men returning towards
the camp.
Proceeding to the gate of the camp, he there awaited the arrival of the
kirangozi, and when he was near enough Moto quietly asked of him:
"Is it peace, or war?"
"War!"
He needed to hear no more, for he had been certain of it, and he went
directly to his friend Simba to communicate the news, who received it
with surprise.
"War, Moto? Then our fears, my friend, have turned out true, and it is
because of the battle which thou wert in with Kisesa against Mostana,
eh?"
"Yes, Simba; and wouldst thou believe it? I saw two or three fellows
eye me pretty hard, and it was for that I refused to go the second time;
for if they had known to a certainty that I was in that battle thou
wouldst never have seen Moto again, friend Simba."
During the greater part of that night the Arabs sat in council, debating
how to proceed; but not agreeing, they separated for the night, not,
however, without posting sentinels all around the camp under the charge
of Sheikh Thani.