From Chiwyu to Vinyata—Kaif Halleck murdered—The magic doctor—Giving
away the heart—Deeds of blood—“The white men are only women”—A three
days’ fight—Punishment of the Wanyaturu—The ubiquitous Mirambo—The
plain of the Luwamberri—In a land of plenty—Through the open country—
“I have seen the lake, sir, and it is grand!”—Welcomed at Kagehyi.
_Jan. 18._—We have seen no remarkable feature in the landscape since we
surmounted that steep wall of the upland which bounds Ugogo on the west.
Near its verge, it is true, it rose in steep terraces, until finally it
extended westward and northward in a broad jungle-covered plain, which
had a gradual rise, culminating in the myombo-clad slopes of the
Uveriveri ridge. While standing at Suna, we were in view of that vast
waste out of which, after terrible experience, we had emerged as it were
only with our lives.
At Chiwyu, we camped near the loftiest altitude of the gradual and
almost unbroken rise of upland, at a height of 5400 feet. To the
northward of Suna and Chiwyu, the country, however, no longer retained
that grand unfurrowed uplift, but presented several isolated hills and
short ranges, while to the westward also we saw that it was divided into
oval basins, rimmed with low hills. From these same hollows and furrows
and basins at the base of the hills, scattered to the north and west of
Suna and Chiwyu, issue the first tiny rivulets, which, as we continue
our journey to the north-west, gradually converge to one main stream,
trending towards Lake Victoria. It is in this region, therefore, that
the most extreme southern Sources of the Nile were discovered.
Since leaving Mpwapwa, we have not crossed one perennial stream. All
our drinking water has been obtained from pools, or shallow depressions
lately filled by rain. Between Suna and Chiwyu was crossed one small
rill flowing north-easterly, which soon afterwards joins another and
still another, and gathering volume, swerves north, then north-west.
These are the furthest springs and head-waters of a river that will
presently become known as the Leewumbu, then as the Monangah, and
lastly as the Shimeeyu, under which name it enters Lake Victoria on the
south-east coast of Speke Gulf.
Descending into the basin of Matongo from Chiwyu with its melancholy
associations, we crossed several narrow and shallow furrows, which a few
late rains had probably caused, and came to a clear stream flowing north
through a deep rocky channel. Near this ravine was a space about a
square mile in extent, strangely torn up and exhibiting thousands of
boulders and blocks, large and small, with smooth, waterworn tops; and
the sides of what is now a small hill in the centre of the basin showed
visible traces of the action of furious torrents through centuries of
time. The hard granite was worn into cones, the tops of which bore a
calcined appearance, proving the effect of intense heat suddenly cooled
by rain. The rocky channel of this stream in the Matongo basin was a
veritable geological section. The surface consisted of massive granite
boulders imbedded in vegetable deposit; below this was a stratum of sand
about 3 feet deep, below the sand a stratum of coarse shingle of quartz,
feldspar, and porphyry, about 8 feet thick, and below this was alluvium,
resting on solid rock.
_Jan. 20._—During these days the thermometer had seldom risen higher
than 78°; for hours during the day it stood at 66°, while at night the
mean was 63°. Seven miles from Chiwyu stand the villages of Mangura on
the borders of Ituru. Soon after leaving Mangura we ought to have
followed the left-hand road, which, after traversing a forest, would
have brought us to Mgongo Tembo, where we should have found Wangwana and
Wanyamwezi. We also discovered that we had already lost the regular path
to Usukuma at Kashongwa, which would have taken us, we were told, to
Utaturu and thence to Mgongo Tembo. But the Mangura natives, though they
were otherwise tolerant of our presence and by no means ill-disposed,
would not condescend to show us the road, and we were therefore exposed
to a series of calamities, which at one time threatened our very
existence.
After passing Mangura, we entered Ituru. Streams now became numerous,
all flowing northward; but though such a well-watered country, the
cattle in it were poor and gaunt in frame, the dogs half starved, and
the sheep and goats mere skeletons. Only the human beings seemed to me
to be in good condition. Among the birds of this region which attracted
our attention, we noted spur-winged geese, small brown short-billed
ducks, delicate of flesh and delicious eating, long-legged plover,
snipe, cranes, herons, spoonbills, parroquets and jays, and a large
greyish-brown bird with short legs resembling a goose, and very shy and
difficult of approach.
The language of Ituru is totally distinct from that of Ugogo or of
Unyamwezi. Besides possessing large herds of cattle, nearly every
village boasts of one or two strong Masai asses. As the Wanyaturu stood
in groups indulging their curiosity outside our camps, I observed they
had a curious habit of employing themselves in plucking the hair from
their faces and armpits. Being extremely distant in their manner, we
found it difficult to gain their confidence, though we were assiduous in
our attempts to cultivate their goodwill.
Izanjeh was our next camp after Mangura, and the first place we halted
at in Ituru. It was 5450 feet above the sea.
On leaving Izanjeh, Kaif Halleck, the bearer of the letter-bag to
Livingstone in 1871, was afflicted with asthma, and as we were compelled
to travel slowly, I entreated him not to lag behind the Expedition while
it traversed such a dangerous country. But I have observed that sick men
seldom heed advice. Being obliged to go forward to the front during
these evil and trying days, I had to leave the rearguard under Frank
Pocock and Fred Barker and the Wangwana chiefs. As my duties would be
mainly to introduce and ingratiate our expedition with the natives, I
could not possibly know what happened in the rear until we reached camp,
and reports were made to me by Frank and Manwa Sera.
_Jan. 21._—From the top of a ridge, accompanied by a guide whose
goodwill had been secured by me, I descended to the basin of what the
Wangwana at Mgongo Tembo call Vinyata, but which the guide, I feel
assured, called Niranga. The basin is oval, about twelve miles long by
six miles wide, cut through the centre by the Leewumbu, as it flows in a
W.N.W. direction, becoming lost, soon after leaving the basin, in a
cluster of woodclad hills. Numbers of villages are sprinkled over it
from end to end, and from the summit of the ridge we guessed it to
contain a populous and wealthy community. On the evening of the same
day, the 21st of January 1875, we arrived at Vinyata.
There was nothing in the horizon of our daily life that the most fearful
and timid could have considered ominous. Nevertheless, consistent with
custom, the camp was constructed on the summit of a slightly swelling
ground, between a forest and the fields in the basin. The people of the
small village nearest to us deserted it upon first sight of our party,
but they were finally persuaded to return. Everything promised at night
to be peaceful, though anxiety began to be felt about the fate of Kaif
Halleck. He had not been seen for two days. Some suggested he had
deserted, but “faithfuls” rarely desert upon mere impulse, without
motive or cause. It was necessary therefore to halt a day at Vinyata to
despatch a searching party. Manwa Sera was told to take four staunch
men, one of whom was the scout and famous detective, Kachéché, to hunt
up the sick “letter-carrier of 1871.”
During Manwa Sera’s absence, Frank, Barker, and myself were occupied in
reducing our loads, and rejecting every article that we could possibly
subsist without. Our sick were many, twenty had died, and eighty-nine
had deserted, between the coast and Vinyata!
While examining the cloth bales, we discovered that several were wet
from the excessive rains of Ugogo, and to save them from being ruined,
it was imperative, though impolitic, that we should spread the cloths to
dry. In the midst of this work the great magic doctor of Vinyata came to
pay me a visit, bringing with him a fine fat ox as a peace offering.
Being the first we had received since leaving Kitalalo, we regarded it
as a propitious omen, and I showed by my warmth toward the ancient
Mganga that I was ready to reciprocate his kindness. He was introduced
to my tent, and after being sociably entertained with exceedingly sweet
coffee and some of Huntley and Palmer’s best and sweetest biscuits, he
was presented with fifteen cloths, thirty necklaces, and ten yards of
brass wire, which repaid him fourfold for his ox. Trivial things, such
as empty sardine boxes, soup and bouilli pots, and empty jam tins, were
successively bestowed on him as he begged for them. The horizon appeared
clearer than ever, when he entreated me to go through the process of
blood-brotherhood, which I underwent with all the ceremonious gravity of
a pagan. As he was finally departing, he saw preparations being made to
despatch the ox, and he expressed his desire that the heart of the
animal should be returned to him. While he stayed for it, I observed
with uneasiness that he and his following cast lingering glances upon
the cloths which were drying in camp.
During the day the Wangwana received several days’ back rations, towards
repairing the havoc which the jungle of Uveriveri and famine-stricken
Ugogo had effected in their frames, and our intercourse with the natives
this day was most friendly. But before retiring for the night, Manwa
Sera and his scouts returned with the report that “Kaif Halleck’s” dead
body had been discovered, gashed with over thirty wounds, on the edge of
a wood between Izanjeh and Vinyata!
“We cannot help it, my friends,” I said after a little deliberation. “We
can mourn for him, but we cannot avenge him. Go and tell the people to
take warning from his fate not to venture too far from the camp, and
when on the march not to lag behind the caravan; and you, who are the
chiefs and in charge of the rear, must not again leave a sick man to
find his way unprotected to camp.”
_Jan. 22._—The next day the magic doctor appeared about 8 A.M. to
receive another present, and as he brought with him about a quart of
curded milk, he was not disappointed. He also received a few beads for
his wife and for each of his children. We parted about 9.30 A.M., after
shaking hands many times, apparently mutually pleased with each other.
No mention was made to any native of Vinyata of the murder of Kaif
Halleck, lest it might be suspected we charged our new friends with
being cognisant of, or accessory to, the cruel deed, which would,
without doubt, have caused new complications.
Half an hour after the departure of the magic doctor, while many of the
Wangwana were absent purchasing grain, and others were in the forest
collecting faggots, we heard war-cries. Imagining that they were the
muster-call to resist their neighbours of Izanjeh, or of some tribe to
the east, we did not pay much attention to them. However, as these
peculiar war-cries, which may be phonetically rendered “Hehu-a-hehu,”
appeared to draw nearer, we mustered a small party on the highest ground
of the camp, in an attitude of doubt and inquiry, and presently saw a
large body of natives armed with spears, bows and arrows, and shields,
appear within a hundred yards on a similar high-ground outside the camp.
The sight suggested to us that they had mustered against us, yet I could
divine no cause of grievance or subject of complaint to call forth a
warlike demonstration.
I despatched two unarmed messengers to them to inquire what their
intentions were, and to ascertain the object of this apparently hostile
mob. The messengers halted midway between the camp and the crowd, and
sitting down, invited two of the natives to advance to them for a
“shauri.”
We soon discovered upon the return of the messengers that one of the
Wangwana had stolen some milk, and that the natives had been aroused to
“make war”[7] upon us because of the theft. They were sent back to
inform the natives that war was wicked and unjust for such a small
crime, and to suggest that they should fix a price upon the milk, and
permit us to atone for the wrong with a handsome gift. After some
deliberation the proposition was agreed to. A liberal present of cloth
was made, and the affair had apparently terminated.
But as this mob was about to retire peacefully, another large force
appeared from the north. A consultation ensued, at first quietly enough,
but there were one or two prominent figures there, who raised their
voices, the loud, sharp, and peremptory tones of which instinctively
warned me that their owners would carry the day. There was a bellicose
activity about their movements, an emphasis in their gestures, and a
determined wrathful fury about the motion of head and pose of body that
were unmistakable. They appeared to be quarrelling doggedly with those
who had received cloth for the milk, and were evidently ready to fight
with them if they persisted in retiring without bloodshed.
In the midst of this, Soudi, a youth of Zanzibar, came hastily upon the
scene. He had a javelin gash near the right elbow joint, and a slight
cut as though from a flying spear was visible on his left side, while a
ghastly wound from a whirling knobstick had laid open his temples. He
reported his brother Suliman as lying dead near the forest, to the west
of the camp.
We decided, nevertheless, to do nothing. We were strong disciples of the
doctrine of forbearance, for it seemed to me then as if Livingstone had
taught it to me only the day before. “Keep silence,” I said: “even for
this last murder I shall not fight; when they attack the camp, it will
be time enough then.” To Frank I simply said that he might distribute
twenty rounds of ammunition without noise to each man, and dispose our
party on either side of the gate, ready for a charge should the natives
determine upon attacking us.
The loudly arguing mob had not yet settled conclusively what they should
do, and possibly hostilities might have been averted, had not the
murderers of young Suliman, advancing red-handed and triumphant,
extorted from all the unanimous opinion that it would be better after
all to fight “the cowardly Wangwana and the white men, who were
evidently only women.”
They quickly disposed themselves, delivered loud whoops of triumph,
prepared their bows, and shot their first arrows. The Wangwana became
restless, but I restrained them. Perceiving no sign of life in our camp,
the Wanyaturu judged, doubtless, that we were half dead with fright, and
advanced boldly to within thirty yards, when the word was given to the
Wangwana and Wanyamwesi, who rushed outside and, by the very momentum of
the rush, drove the savages to a distance of 200 yards. The Wangwana
were then ordered to halt, and deployed as skirmishers.
We still waited without firing. The savages, not comprehending this
extraordinary forbearance, advanced once more. The interpreters were
requested to warn them that we should delay no longer. They replied, “Ye
are women, ye are women; go, ask Mirambo how he fared in Ituru,” saying
which they twanged their bows. It was only then, perceiving that they
were too savage to understand the principles of forbearance, that the
final word to “fight” was given. A brisk encounter was maintained for an
hour, and then, having driven the savages away, the Wangwana were
recalled to camp.
Meanwhile Frank was busy with sixty men armed with axes in constructing
a strong stockade, and on the return of the Wangwana they were employed
in building marksmen’s “nests” at each corner of the camp. We also
cleared the ground to the space of 200 yards around the camp. By night
our camp was secure, and perfectly defensible.
_Jan. 24._—On the morning of the 24th we waited patiently in our camp.
Why should we attack? We were wretched enough as it was without seeking
to add to our wretchedness. We numbered only seventy effective men, for
all the others were invalids, frightened porters, women, donkey-boys,
and children. The sick list was alarming, but, try how we might, the
number was not to be reduced. While we lived from hand to mouth on a few
grains of corn a day, after a month’s experience of famine fare, our
plight must not only remain pitiable, but become worse. We were
therefore in a mood to pray that we might not be attacked, but permitted
to leave the camp in safety.
At 9 A.M., however, the enemy appeared, reinforced both in numbers and
confidence, for the adjoining districts on the north and east had been
summoned to the “war.” This word means now, as is evident, daily attacks
upon our camp, with forces hourly increasing, until we shall have also
perhaps strange tribes to the westward invited to the extermination of
the strangers, and ourselves be in the meantime penned in our hold until
hunger reduces us to surrender, to be butchered without mercy.
Our position, as strangers in a hostile country, is such that we cannot
exist as a corporate expedition, unless we resist with all our might and
skill, in order to terminate hostilities and secure access to the
western country. We therefore wait until they advance upon our camp, and
drive them from its vicinity, as we did the day before. In half an hour
our people are back, and organised into four detachments of ten men each
under their separate chiefs, two more detachments of ten men each being
held in reserve, and one other, of ten also, detailed for the defence of
the camp. They are instructed to proceed in skirmishing order in
different directions through the hostile country, and to drive the
inhabitants out wherever they find them lodged, to a distance of five
miles east and north, certain rocky hills, the rendezvous of the foe,
being pointed out as the place where they must converge. Messengers are
sent with each detachment to bring me back information.
The left detachment, under chief Farjalla Christie, were soon thrown
into disorder, and were killed to a man except the messenger who brought
us the news, imploring for the reserve, as the enemy were now
concentrated on the second detachment. Manwa Sera was therefore
despatched with fifteen men, and arrived at the scene only in time to
save eight out of the second detachment. The third plunged boldly on,
but lost six of its number; the fourth, under chief Safeni, behaved
prudently and well, and, as fast as each enclosed village was taken, set
it on fire. But ten other men despatched to the scene retrieved what the
third had lost, and strengthened Safeni.
About 4 P.M. the Wangwana returned, bringing with them oxen, goats, and
grain for food. Our losses in this day’s proceedings were twenty-one
soldiers and one messenger killed, and three wounded.
_Jan. 25._—On the morning of the 25th we waited until 9 A.M., again
hoping that the Wanyaturu would see the impolicy of renewing the fight;
but we were disappointed, for they appeared again, and apparently as
numerous as ever. After some severe volleys we drove them off again on
the third day, but upon the return of the Wangwana, instead of dividing
them into detachments I instructed them to proceed in a compact body.
Some of the porters volunteered to take the place of the soldiers who
perished the previous day, and we were therefore able to show still a
formidable front. All the villages in our neighbourhood being first
consumed, they continued their march, and finally attacked the rocky
hill, which the Wanyaturu had adopted as a stronghold, and drove them
flying precipitately into the neighbouring country, where they did not
follow them.
We knew now that we should not be disturbed. Some of the guns, lost
the day before, we recaptured. On reckoning up our loss on the evening
of the third day, we ascertained it to be twenty-two men killed, three
men wounded, twelve guns lost, and four cases of ammunition expended.
Including Kaif Halleck and Suliman murdered, our losses in Ituru were
therefore twenty-four men killed and four wounded, and as we had
twenty-five on the sick-list, it may be imagined that to replace these
fifty-three men great sacrifices were necessary on the part of the
survivors, and much ingenuity had to be exercised. Twelve loads were
accordingly placed on the asses, and ten chiefs were detailed to carry
baggage until we should arrive at Usukuma. Much miscellaneous property
was burned, and on the morning of the 26th, just before daybreak, we
resumed our interrupted journey.
The expedition on this day consisted of three Europeans, 206 Wangwana
and Wanyamwezi, twenty-five women, and six boys. At 9.30 A.M. we camped
at a place which might be called a natural fortress. To our right and
left rose two little hills 100 feet high and almost perpendicular.
Behind us dropped a steep slope 400 feet down to the Leewumbu river, so
that the only way of access was the narrow gap through which we had
entered. We soon closed the gateway with a dense wall of brushwood, and
in perfect security lay down to rest.
This camp was at an altitude of 5650 feet above the ocean, and due west
of Vinyata about ten miles. On one side of us was the deep-wooded valley
through which the rapid Leewumbu rushes. Its banks on each side slope
steeply upward, and at the top become detached hills clothed with
forest; from their base wave the uplands in grand and imposing wooded
ridges. North of the Leewumbu the hills are bolder than those to the
south.
_Jan. 27._—On the 27th, at dawn, we crossed the Leewumbu, and the whole
of that day and the day following our route was through a forest of fine
myombo, intersected by singular narrow plains, forming at this season of
the year so many quagmires. Other features of this region were enormous
bare rocks, looming like castles through the forest, and hillocks
composed of great fragments of splintered granite and broad heaving
humps of grey gneiss. One of these singular features of this part of
Africa gives its name to Mgongo Tembo, “The Elephant’s Back.” Far to the
south is a similar hill, which I passed by during the first expedition;
and its chief, emigrating to Iramba, has bestowed upon a like feature at
the site of his new colony the name of his former village, to remind him
of old associations.
_Jan. 29._—On the 29th we entered Mgongo Tembo, and became acquainted
with the chief, who is also known by the fantastic name which he has
given his new quarters, though his real name is Malewa. He is a strong
conservative, dislikes innovations, declares young men nowadays to be
too fond of travel, and will not allow his sons—he has sixteen—to visit
either Unyanyembé or Zanzibar lest they should learn bad habits. He is a
hearty, jovial soul, kindly disposed if let alone. He has lately emerged
triumphantly out of a war with Maganga of Rubuga, an ally of the famous
Mirambo.
It had been an object with me at one time to steer clear of Mirambo, but
as I recognised and became impressed with his ubiquitous powers, I
failed to perceive how the system of exploration I had planned could be
effected if I wandered great distances out of his way. On the first
expedition some of my people perished in a conflict with him, and on
returning with Livingstone to Unyanyembé, we heard of him dealing
effective blows with extraordinary rapidity on his Arab and native foes.
Since leaving Ugogo, we heard daily of him on this expedition. He was
one day advancing upon Kirirumo, at another place he was on our flanks
somewhere in Utaturu. He fought with Ituru, and, according to Mgongo
Tembo’s chief, lost 1100 men two months before we entered the country.
Mgongo Tembo, who kept a wary eye upon the formidable chief’s movements,
informed us that Mirambo was in front of us, fighting the Wasukuma.
Mgongo Tembo further said, in explanation of the unprovoked attacks of
the Wanyaturu upon us, that we ought not to have bestowed the heart of
the presented ox upon the magic doctor of Vinyata, as by the loss of
that diffuser of blood, the Wanyaturu believed we had left our own
bodies weakened and would be an easy prey to them. “The Wanyaturu are
robbers, and sons of robbers,” said he fiercely, after listening to the
recital of our experiences in Ituru.
_Feb. 1._—On the 1st of February, after a very necessary halt of two
days at Mgongo Tembo, with an addition to our force of eight pagazis and
two guides, and encouraged by favourable reports of the country in
front, we entered Mangura in Usukuma near a strange valley which
contained a forest of borassus palms. In the beds of the several streams
we crossed this day we observed granite boulders, blue shale, basalt,
porphyry and quartz.
Beyond Mangura, or about six miles west of it, was situate Igira, a
sparse settlement overlooking the magnificent plain of Luwamberri, at an
altitude by boiling-point of 5350 feet. A camp which we established in
this plain, was ascertained with the same apparatus to be 4475 feet. Ten
miles farther, near a sluggish ditch-like creek, the boiling-point
showed 4250 feet, only 100 feet higher than Lake Victoria.
As far as Igira the myombo flourished, but when we descended into the
plain, and the elevation above the sea decreased to 4000 feet, we
discovered that the baobab became the principal feature of the
vegetation, giving place soon after to thorny acacias and a variety of
scrub, succeeded in their turn by a vast expanse of tawny grass.
The Luwamberri plain—with its breadth of nearly forty miles, its
indefinite length of level reach towards the N.N.W., its low altitude
above the Victorian Lake, the wave-worn slopes of the higher elevations
which hem it on the east and the south—appears to me to have been in
ancient times a long arm of the great lake which was our prospective
goal at this period. About sixteen miles from Igira there is a small
sluggish stream with an almost imperceptible current northward, but
though it was insignificant at the time of our crossing, there were
certain traces on the tall grass to show that during the middle of the
rainy season it is nearly a mile broad, and very deep. Several nullahs
or ravines with stagnant water, when followed up, prove to have their
exit in the broad channel.
In the centre of the level plain rises a curious elevation, like an
island crowned with a grove, whither the game with which the plain teems
resort during the wet season. At the period of our crossing, however,
they roved in countless numbers over the plain—giraffe, zebra, gnu,
buffalo, springbok, water-buck, kudu, hartebeest, wild-boar, and several
varieties of smaller antelope; while birds abounded, ibis, field-larks,
fish-hawks, kingfishers, spur-winged geese, ducks, vultures, flamingoes,
spoonbills, and cranes.
With such a variety before them, it may readily be conceived that the
Wangwana and Wanyamwezi which now numbered, with the accessions to our
strength gained at Mangura and Igira, 280 men, earnestly hoped that I
should be successful in the sport to which I now devoted myself with the
aid of my faithful factotum Billali. One day I shot a giraffe and a
small antelope; on the next, in the neighbourhood of the woody elevation
in the plain, five zebra; and the third day on the western verge, I shot
two gnu, one buffalo, and a zebra, besides bagging two spur-winged
geese, four guinea-fowl, and five ducks. Meat was now a drug in our
camp. It was cooked in various styles, either stewed, roasted, fried, or
pounded for cakes. Some of the Wanyamwezi carried, besides their cloth
bale of 60 lbs. weight, nearly 35 lbs. of dried meat.
_Feb. 2._—On the western verge of the grassy plain we crossed the Itawa
river, a broad but sluggish stream choked with grass, and camped in a
locality which seemed to be favourable only to the production of baobab
and mimosa. After a few hours’ travel west of the Itawa, we crossed the
Gogo river with a course N.N.E. towards the Luwamberri plain. Here we
arrived at the easternmost of a chain of low hills with truncated tops.
These hills, pleasant to the eye, and covered with waving grass and a
sprinkling of thin dwarf bush, consisted of silicious feldspathic rock,
the stratification of which was vertical, in other parts diagonal, with
a dip to the north-west. The slopes of the hills were thickly covered
with detached pieces of this rock, and at the base with shingle. The
plain beneath, close to the vicinity of the hills, had extensive beds of
the same rock, which, in places, rose above it, exposed in great sheets.
_Feb. 9._—On the 9th of February we crossed the Nanga ravine, and the
next day, by a gradual ascent, arrived at the Seligwa, flowing to the
Leewumbu, and, after following it for four miles, reached the hospitable
village of Mombiti. We had fairly entered the rich country of Usukuma,
where the traveller, if he has resources at his disposal, need never
fear starvation.
The products of the rich upland were here laid at our feet, and it must
be conceded that the plenteous stores of grain, beans, potatoes,
vetches, sesamum, millet, vegetables, such as melons and various garden
herbs, honey, and tobacco, which we were enabled to purchase at Mombiti,
were merited by the members of the long-enduring expedition. The number
of chickens and goats that were slaughtered by the people was enormous.
Long arrears of rewards were due to them for the many signal examples of
worth they had shown; and here I earned anew the flattering appellation
bestowed upon me three years previously in Africa—“The white man with
the open hand”—“Huyu Msungu n’u fungua mikono.”
With the rewards they received, the Wangwana and Wanyamwezi, men, women,
and children, revelled in the delights of repleted stomachs, and the
voice of the gaunt monster, Hunger, was finally hushed. In festive
rejoicings and inordinate fulness we spent three days at Mombiti.
A fresh troop of porters was here engaged to relieve the long-suffering
people, and with renewed spirits and rekindled vigour, and with reserve
stores of luxuries on our shoulders, we plunged into the jungle in
the direction of the Monangah valley and Usiha, in preference to the
ever-troubled route by Usanda, Nguru, and Masari. Mirambo, it was
reported, was also in the neighbourhood of Masari, and hovering about
our path like a phantom.
_Feb. 14._—During the second day’s march from Mombiti, Gardner, one of
the faithful followers of Livingstone during his last journey, succumbed
to a severe attack of typhoid fever. We conveyed the body to camp, and
having buried him, raised a cairn of stones over his grave at the
junction of two roads, one leading to Usiha, the other to Iramba. His
last words were, “I know I am dying. Let my money (370 dollars), which
is in charge of Tarya Topan of Zanzibar, be divided. Let a half be given
to my friend Chumah, and a half be given to these my friends—pointing to
the Wangwana—that they may make the mourning-feast.” In honour of this
faithful, the camp is called after his name—“Camp Gardner.”
A gradual descent from the ridges and wavy upland brought us to the
broad, brown valley of the Leewumbu, or the Monangah river, as the
Wasukuma now called the river. At the ford in this season the Monangah
was 30 yards wide and 3 feet deep, with a current of about a mile an
hour, but discoloured marks high above its present level denote a
considerable rise during the rainy season. A few hills on the south bank
showed the same features of the silicified feldspathic rock visible near
the Gogo stream. Giraffe were numerous, feeding on the dwarf acacia, but
the country was too open to permit my approaching them. However, I
succeeded in dropping a stray springbok in a hunting excursion which I
made in the evening.
On leaving the Monangah, we struck northerly across a pathless country
seamed with elephant tracks, rhinoceros wallows, and gullies which
contained pools of grey muddy water. Four miles from the river, Kirira
Peak bore W.N.W., Usanda west by north, Wanhinni N.N.W., and Samui west
by south. A chain of hill-cones ran from Samui to Wanhinni.
_Feb. 17._—Surmounting a ridge which bounded the valley of the Monangah
on the north, and following its crest westerly, we arrived on the
morning of the 17th of February at Eastern Usiha. When in sight of their
conical cotes, we despatched one of our native guides ahead, to warn the
natives that a caravan of Wangwana was approaching, and to bear messages
of peace and goodwill. But in his absence, one of the Kinyamwezi asses
set up a terrific braying, which nearly created serious trouble. It
appears that on one of his former raids the terrible Mirambo possessed a
Kinyamwezi ass which also brayed, and, like the geese of the Roman
Capitol, betrayed the foe. Hence the natives insisted, despite the
energetic denial of our guide, that this ass must also belong to
Mirambo, and for a short period he was in a perilous state. They seized
and bound him, and would probably have despatched him had not the
village scouts returned laughing heartily at the fright the vicious ass
had caused.
Usiha is the commencement of a most beautiful pastoral country, which
terminates only in the Victoria Nyanza. From the summit of one of the
weird grey rock piles which characterise it, one may enjoy that
unspeakable fascination of an apparently boundless horizon. On all sides
there stretches toward it the face of a vast circle replete with
peculiar features, of detached hills, great crag-masses of riven and
sharply angled rock, and outcropping mounds, between which heaves and
rolls in low, broad waves a green grassy plain whereon feed thousands of
cattle scattered about in small herds.
As fondly as the Wangwana with their suffering vitals lingered over
their meals in the days of plenty at Mombiti, so fondly did I gloat over
this expanding extent, rich in contrasts and pleasing surprises. Fresh
from the tawny plains of Monangah, with its thirsty and sere aspect, I
was as gratified as though I possessed the wand of an enchanter, and had
raised around me the verdant downs of Sussex. I seated myself apart, on
the topmost grey rock. Only my gunbearer was near me, and he always
seemed intuitively to know my moods. I revelled therefore undisturbed in
the bland and gracious prospect. The voices of the Wangwana came to me
now and again faint by distance, and but for this I might, as I sat
there, have lost myself in the delusion that all the hideous past and
beautiful present was a dream.
After the traveller has performed his six hundred miles from the ocean
to Usiha, however phlegmatic he may be, he will surely glow with
pleasure when he views this fair scene of promise. The delicious smell
of cattle and young grass comes up from the plain quick, and reminds
one of home-farm memories, of milk and cheese, and secret dippings
into cream-pots, and from the staked bomas and the hedge-encircled
villages there rise to my hearing the bleating of young calves, and the
lowing of the cows as they looked interested towards the village, and I
could see flocks of kids and goats, and sheep with jealously watchful
shepherd-boys close by—the whole prospect so peaceful and idyllic that
it made a strangely affecting impression on me.
_Feb. 19._—Daybreak of the 19th of February saw the refreshed Expedition
winding up and down the rolling pasture-land, escorted by hundreds of
amiable natives who exchanged pleasant jests with our people, and
laughed recklessly and boisterously to show us that they were glad we
had visited their country. “Come yet again,” said they, as they turned
to go back after escorting us three miles on our way. “Come always, and
you will be welcome.”
We thoroughly enjoyed marching with such a broad prospect on either
hand. We felt free, and for the first time enjoyed something of the
lordly feeling to which it is said man is born, but to which we had
certainly been strangers between the ocean and the grassy plains of
Usukuma. One half the distance, it appears to me, we had ploughed our
way through the lower regions of vegetation—the dense intermeshed tangle
of a full-grown jungle—or we had crawled about like an army of ants,
with the ordinary grasses of the maritime lands, the Luwamberri and the
Monangah plains, towering like a forest of cane above our heads. The
myombo forests of Uveriveri, and wood-clad ridges—drained by the
crystal-clear streams and rivulets which supply the furthest waters to
Egypt’s sacred river—though tolerably open, did not inspire us with such
a large, indescribable sense of freedom as the open short-grass lands in
which we now found ourselves.
A fair idea of the rugged rock-heaps which relieved a landscape that
might otherwise have been monotonous may be obtained from the photograph
of Wezi’s rocks. They are extremely picturesque from their massiveness
and eccentricity, which distance increases and charms into ruined
castles or antique human dwellings.
Villages were numerous between Usiha and Wandui. Sweet springs bubbled
from all sides, especially from the opposing bases of the granite ridges
which, like walls, flank the broad natural avenue, at the upper end of
which stands the capital of the king of Usiha, shaded by glorious baobab
and bowery masses of milk-weed.
_Feb. 20._—As we were marching from Wandui to Mondo, on the 20th of
February, we were once again mistaken by the warlike natives for
Mirambo, but the mistake went no further than war-cries, long, loud, and
melodious, caught up by hundreds of clear voices, and a demonstrative
exhibition of how they would have exterminated us had we been really and
truly Mirambo. In proportion as Mirambo haunts their vicinity, so do the
natives appear to be possessed and disturbed. Wandui and Usiha become
suddenly exercised at seeing their cattle run frightened from some
prowling beast, and immediately the cry of “Mirambo, Mirambo!” is
raised, and from every height the alarming cry is echoed, until from
Usiha to Usanda, and from Masari north to Usmau, the dread name is
repeated. Then two neighbours, finding it was a mistake, quarrel with
each other, and begin fighting, and in the midst of their local war
Mirambo veritably appears, as though from the ground, and attacks both.
North of Mondo, as far as Abaddi, or Baddi—sometimes Abatti—the country
rolled, clear and open, like a treeless park, with scarcely a single
shrub or tree. The grass was only an inch high. The rock-crowned hills
were, however, still frequent features. All the male adults of Abaddi
stalked about stark naked, but their women were clad with stiff skins
and half tanned cowhides. The herds of cattle and flocks of goats and
sheep absolutely whitened the glorious park country.
The following brief list of prices will serve to illustrate this
extraordinary land of plenty:—
_Prices at Abaddi._
1 ox 6 yards of sheeting.
1 goat 2 ” ”
1 sheep 2 ” ”
1 chicken 1 necklace.
6 chickens 2 yards of sheeting.
40 kubaba of Mtama 4 ” ”
_Prices in Ugogo._
1 ox 48 yards of sheeting.
1 goat 12 ” ”
1 sheep 10 ” ”
1 chicken From 5 to 10
necklaces.
6 chickens 12 yards of sheeting.
40 kubaba of Mtama 16 ” ”
The villages of this part of Usukuma are surrounded by hedges of
euphorbias, milk-weed, the juice of which is most acrid, and when a drop
is spattered over such a tender organ as the eye, the pain is almost
intolerable. My poor bull-terrier “Jack,” while chasing a mongoose into
one of these hedges, quite lost the use of one eye.
_Feb. 22._—Our next camp was Marya, fifteen miles north by east Mag.
from Mondo, and 4800 feet above the sea. We were still in view of the
beautiful rolling plain, with its rock-crested hills, and herds of
cattle, and snug villages, but the people, though Wasukuma, were the
noisiest and most impudent of any we had yet met. One of the chiefs
insisted on opening the door of the tent while I was resting after the
long march. I heard the tent-boys remonstrate with him, but did not
interfere until the chief forcibly opened the door, when the bull-dogs
“Bull” and “Jack,” who were also enjoying a well-earned repose, sprang
at him suddenly and pinned his hands. The terror of the chief was
indescribable, as he appeared to believe that the white man in the tent
had been transformed into two ferocious dogs, so little was he prepared
for such a reception. I quickly released him from his position, and won
his gratitude and aid in restoring the mob of natives to a more moderate
temper.
_Feb. 24._—A march of seventeen miles north by west across a waterless
jungle brought us on the 24th to South Usmau. Native travellers in this
country possess native bells of globular form with which, when setting
out on a journey, they ring most alarming though not inharmonious
sounds, to waken the women to their daily duties.
The journey to Hulwa in North Usmau was begun by plunging through a
small forest at the base of some rocky hills which had been distinctly
visible from Marya, thirty-one miles south. A number of monkeys lined
their summits, gazing contemptuously at the long string of bipeds
condemned to bear loads. We then descended into a broad and populous
basin, wherein villages with their milk-weed hedges appeared to be only
so many verdant circlets. Great fragments and heaps of riven granite,
gneiss, and trap rock, were still seen cresting the hills in irregular
forms.
Through a similar scene we travelled to Gambachika in North Usmau, which
is at an altitude of 4600 feet above the sea, and fourteen miles from
Hulwa. As we approached the settlement, we caught a glimpse to the far
north of the mountains of Urirwi, and to the north-east of the Manassa
heights which, we were informed by the natives, formed the shores of the
Great Lake.
_Feb. 27._—On the morning of the 27th of February we rose up early, and
braced ourselves for the long march of nineteen miles, which terminated
at 4 P.M. at the village of Kagehyi.
The people were as keenly alive to the importance of this day’s march,
and as fully sensitive to what this final journey to Kagehyi promised
their wearied frames, as we Europeans. They, as well as ourselves,
looked forward to many weeks of rest from our labours and to an
abundance of good food.
When the bugle sounded the signal to “Take the road,” the Wanyamwezi and
Wangwana responded to it with cheers, and loud cries of “Ay, indeed, ay,
indeed, please God;” and their goodwill was contagious. The natives, who
had mustered strongly to witness our departure, were affected by it, and
stimulated our people by declaring that the lake was not very far off—
“but two or three hours’ walk.”
[Illustration: MNYAMWEZI PAGAZI.]
We dipped into the basins and troughs of the land, surmounted ridge
after ridge, crossed watercourses and ravines, passed by cultivated
fields, and through villages smelling strongly of cattle, by
good-natured groups of natives, until, ascending a long gradual slope,
we heard, on a sudden, hurrahing in front, and then we too, with the
lagging rear, knew that those in the van were in view of the Great Lake!
Frank Pocock impetuously strode forward until he gained the brow of the
hill. He took a long sweeping look at something, waved his hat, and came
down towards us, his face beaming with joy, as he shouted out
enthusiastically with the fervour of youth and high spirits, “I have
seen the Lake, Sir, and it is grand!” Frederick Barker, riding painfully
on an ass, and sighing wearily from illness and the length of the
journey, lifted his head to smile his thanks to his comrade.
Presently we also reached the brow of the hill, where we found the
expedition halted, and the first quick view revealed to us a long broad
arm of water, which a dazzling sun transformed into silver, some 600
feet below us, at the distance of three miles.
A more careful and detailed view of the scene showed us that the hill on
which we stood sloped gradually to the broad bay or gulf edged by a line
of green wavy reeds and thin groves of umbrageous trees scattered along
the shore, on which stood several small villages of conical huts. Beyond
these, the lake stretched like a silvery plain far to the eastward, and
away across to a boundary of dark blue hills and mountains, while
several grey rocky islets mocked us at first with an illusion of Arab
dhows with white sails. The Wanyamwezi struck up the song of triumph:—
Sing, O friends, sing; the journey is ended:
Sing aloud, O friends; sing to the great Nyanza.
Sing all, sing loud, O friends, sing to the great sea;
Give your last look to the lands behind and then turn to the sea.
Long time ago you left your lands,
Your wives and children, your brothers and your friends;
Tell me, have you seen a sea like this
Since you left the great salt sea?
CHORUS.
Then sing, O friends, sing; the journey is ended:
Sing aloud, O friends; sing to this great sea.
This sea is fresh, is good, and sweet;
Your sea is salt, and bad, unfit to drink.
This sea is like wine to drink for thirsty men,
The salt sea—bah! it makes men sick.
Lift up your heads, O men, and gaze around;
Try if you can see its end.
See, it stretches moons away,
This great, sweet, fresh-water sea.
We come from Usukuma land,
The land of pastures, cattle, sheep and goats,
The land of braves, warriors, and strong men,
And lo! this is the far-known Usukuma sea.
Ye friends, ye scorned at us in other days.
Ah, ha! Wangwana. What say ye now?
Ye have seen the land, its pastures and its herds,
Ye now see the far-known Usukuma sea.
Kaduma’s land is just below;
He is rich in cattle, sheep, and goats.
The Msungu is rich in cloth and beads;
His hand is open, and his heart is free.
To-morrow the Msungu must make us strong
With meat and beer, wine and grain.
We shall dance and play the livelong day,
And eat and drink, and sing and play.
I have in the above (as literal a translation as I can render it) made
no attempt at rhyme—nor, indeed, did the young, handsome, and stalwart
Corypheus who delivered the harmonious strains with such startling
effect. The song, though extemporised, was eminently dramatic, and when
the chorus joined in, it made the hills ring with a wild and strange
harmony. Reanimated by the cheerful music, we flung the flags to the
breeze, and filed slowly down the slopes towards the fields of Kagehyi.
[Illustration:
VIEW OF KAGEHYI FROM THE EDGE OF THE LAKE.
(_From a photograph._)
]
About half a mile from the villages we were surprised by seeing hundreds
of warriors decked with feathered head-dresses and armed to the teeth,
advancing on the run towards us, and exhibiting, as they came, their
dexterity with bows and arrows and spears. They had at first been
alarmed at the long procession filing down the hill, imagining that we
were the ubiquitous Mirambo and his force, but, though discovering their
error, they still thought it too good an opportunity to be lost for
showing their bravery, and therefore amused us with this byplay. Sungoro
Tarib, an Arab resident at Kagehyi, also despatched a messenger with
words of welcome, and an invitation to us to make Kagehyi our camp, as
Prince Kaduma, chief of Kagehyi, was his faithful ally.
In a short time we had entered the wretched-looking village, and Kaduma
was easily induced by Sungoro to proffer hospitalities to the strangers.
A small conical hut about 20 feet in diameter, badly lighted, and with a
strong smell of animal matter—its roof swarmed with bold rats, which,
with a malicious persistence, kept popping in and out of their nests in
the straw roof and rushing over the walls—was placed at my disposal as a
store-room. Another small hut was presented to Frank Pocock and Fred
Barker as their quarters.
[Illustration:
FRANK POCOCK.
(_From a photograph by the Author at Kagehyi._)
]
In summing up, during the evening of our arrival at this rude village on
the Nyanza, the number of statute miles travelled by us, as measured by
two rated pedometers and pocket watch, I ascertained it to be 720. The
time occupied—from November 17, 1874, to February 27, 1875, inclusive—
was 103 days, divided into 70 marching and 33 halting days, by which it
will be perceived that our marches averaged a little over 10 miles per
day. But as halts are imperative, the more correct method of
ascertaining the rate of travel would be to include the time occupied by
halts and marches, and divide the total distance by the number of days
occupied. This reduces the rate to 7 miles per diem.
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# 7:
“Make war” is the literal translation of _fanya vita_.