Afloat on the lake—We catch a guide—Saramba’s terror—The Shimeeyu—
Pyramid Point—The island of Ukerewé—In the haunts of crocodiles—Shizu
Island—The hippopotami—Ururi—The headlands of Goshi—Bridge Island—
Volcanoes—U-go-weh—the inebriates of Ugamba—Treachery at Maheta—
Primitive man—The art of pleasing—A night at Uvuma—Mobbed by Wavuma—
Barmecide fare—Message from Mtesa—“In the Kabaka’s name”—Camp on Soweh
Island.
_March 8._—Afloat on the waters of Speke Gulf! The sky is gloomy and the
light grey water has become a dull ashen grey; the rocks are bare and
rugged; and the land, sympathising with the gloom above, appears silent
and lonely. The people sigh dolorously, their rowing is as that of men
who think they are bound to certain death, and now and again wistful
looks are thrown towards me as though they expected an order to return.
Their hearts are full of misgivings. Slowly, however, we move through
the dull, dead waters; slowly we pass by the dull grey rocks of Lutari
Point, and still slower do the boatmen row when the rugged rocks shut
off the view of Kagehyi and front them with their bare rude masses.
Five miles brought us to Igusa, a settlement doubtless pleasant
enough under a fair sky, but bearing this afternoon its share of the
universal gloom. Without a guide or interpreter, we bore in for a
little reed-lined creek. A fisherman, with a head of hair resembling
a thick mop, came down to the boat. He had, it seems, visited Kagehyi
two or three days before, and recognised us. A better acquaintance was
soon begun, and ended in his becoming captivated with our promises of
rewards and offering his services as guide. The boatmen were overjoyed;
for the guide, whose name was Saramba, proved to have been one of
Sungoro’s boatmen in some of that Arab’s trading excursions to Ururi.
We passed a cheerless night, for the reeds turned out to be the haunt
of a multitude of mosquitoes, and the air was cold. However, with
Saramba as guide, we promised ourselves better quarters in future.
_March 9._—At 6 A.M., after Saramba’s appearance, we resumed our voyage,
and continued on our way eastward, clinging to the shores of Sima. At 11
A.M. the clouds, which had long been gathering over the horizon to the
north-west, discharged both squall and gale, and the scene soon became
wild beyond description. We steered from the shore, and were soon
involved in the dreadful chaos of watery madness and uproar. The wind
swept us over the fierce waves, the _Lady Alice_ bounding forward like a
wild courser. It lashed the waters into spray and foam, and hurled them
over the devoted crew and boat. With a mere rag presented to the gale,
we drove unresistingly along. Strange islets in the neighbourhood of
Mashakka became then objects of terror to us, but we passed them in
safety and saw the grey hills of Magu far in front of us. The boatmen
cowered to windward: Saramba had collapsed in terror, and had resignedly
covered his moppy head with his loin-cloth. Zaidi Mganda, the steersman,
and myself were the only persons visible above the gunwale, and our
united strengths were required to guide the boat over the raging sea. At
2 P.M. we came in view of the Shimeeyu river, and, steering close to the
little island of Natwari swept round to leeward, and through a calm
water made our way into harbour, opposite the entrance to the river.
_March 10._—The next day was beautiful. The wild waters of yesterday
were calm as those of a pond. The bold hills of Magu, with all their
sere and treeless outlines, stood out in fine relief. Opposite them, at
about 1300 yards distant, were the brush-covered tops of the Mazanza
heights; while between them lay glittering the broad and noble creek
which receives the tribute flood of the Shimeeyu, the extreme southern
reach of Nile waters. The total length of the course of this river, as
laid out on the chart, is 300 miles, which gives the course of the Nile
a length of 4200 miles: thus making it the second longest river in the
world. The creek extends to a considerable distance, and then contracts
to a width of about 400 yards, through which the Monangah, after uniting
with the Luwamberri and the Duma rivers, discharges its brown waters,
under the name of the Shimeeyu, into the lake.
After an examination of these features, we continued our journey along
the coast of Mazanza, which forms the eastern shore of the bay of
Shimeeyu, passing by the boldly rising and wooded hills of Manassa. At 4
P.M. we attempted to land in a small cove, but were driven away by a
multitude of audacious hippopotami, who rushed towards us open-mouthed.
Perceiving that they were too numerous and bold for us, we were
compelled to drop our stone anchors in 40 feet of water, about two miles
from shore.
_March 11._—On the 11th of March, after rowing nearly the whole day
against a head-wind, we arrived at the eastern end of Speke Gulf, which
here narrows to about seven miles. On the southern side Manassa extends
from Mazanza, its coast-line marked by an almost unbroken ridge about
two miles inland, varied here and there by rounded knolls and hills,
from whose base there is a gradual slope covered with woods down to the
water’s edge. The eastern end of the gulf is closed by the land of the
Wirigedi or, as Saramba called them, the Wajika. At the north-eastern
end begins Shahshi, consisting of a group of sterile hills, which, as we
proceed west along the north side of the gulf, sink down into a naked
plain. The Ruana river empties itself into the head of the gulf by two
narrow mouths through a low wooded shore.
_March 12._—On the 12th we continued to coast along Shahshi’s low,
bare plain, margined at the water’s edge by eschinomenæ, and a little
farther inland lined by mimosa, thence past Iramba, a similar country
to Shahshi, until we reached Pyramid Point, so christened from the
shape of its hills, but on running up into the bay (which has its
greatest width at Rugedzi Strait), we found that Pyramid Point really
forms the south-western end of a mountain-range. One of the most
conspicuous objects we saw, as we stood on the uplands of Usmau,
looking towards the N.N.E., was this Pyramid Point, but at that time we
had, of course, only a dim idea of its neighbourhood to the lake.
Near the Point is a group of small islands, the principal being Kitaro,
on which cattle and goats are found. Though the islanders obtain but a
scanty subsistence from the soil, they find reason to congratulate
themselves in that they are safe from the periodical raids made by the
Wajika, or Wirigedi, a tribe unpleasantly distinguished for the length
of their knives and the breadth and weight of their spears. On one of
this group, which was uninhabited, we stayed to cook our midday meal. It
appeared fair and pleasant enough from without—one mass of deepest
verdure, with a cone rising about 100 feet above the lake. Upon
exploring it, we found it to be a heap of gigantic rocks, between which
the deposit of vegetable matter had given birth to a forest of young
trees, the spreading green foliage of which was rendered still more
impervious to sunshine by a multitude of parasitical plants and llianes,
which had woven the whole into as thick and dense a shade as I ever
remember to have seen. Below this mass of tangled branch and leaf the
thermometer descends to 70° Fahr.; without, exposed to the blazing sun,
it ascends to 115° Fahr.
In the evening we camped on a small island in the middle of the bay of
Ukerewé, east of the beautiful isle of Nifuah, which is inhabited and is
the home of an industrious colony subject to the king of Ukerewé.
From the summit of Nifuah we could distinguish the tall trees which gave
shade to our camp and to Kaduma’s village of Kagehyi, across Speke Gulf.
Upon coming down to the water’s edge, we saw nothing but the blue hills,
600 feet high, situated three miles south of Kagehyi; nor, turning our
eyes to the north, could we see anything of the low shore which the
Rugedzi Channel cuts. Standing close to the water at Nifuah, we would
have imagined that Ukerewé was an island separated by a strait about two
miles broad; but turning our boat to the north, a couple of hours’
rowing brought us so near that we could see that the opposing point of
the mainland is joined to the island, or appears to be joined, by a very
low bush-covered neck of land a mile in width, which thus separates the
waters of Speke Gulf from the great body of Lake Victoria. A still
closer examination, however, reveals the fact that this narrow neck is
cut by a shallow channel 6 feet wide and in some places only 3 feet
deep. The ground, though extremely low on each side, is firm and compact
enough; but here and there it is of a boggy nature. Hence it will be
seen that Captain Speke, who called Ukerewé an island, was literally
correct.
_March 13._—On the 13th we enjoyed a fine six-knot breeze, and were able
to make a good day’s work, though we still clung to the shore of Ukerewé
near enough to note clearly the features of the water-line. A glance at
the country of Ukerewé showed it to be exceedingly populous and
extensively cultivated. From Matembé to Yambuyah extends a bold ridge
about 300 feet above the lake, and beyond this point is a deep
indentation, called Ukwya, near the western horn of which we perceived a
group of islets named Kiregi. These are the haunts of an immense number
of crocodiles, and one nest discovered here contained fifty-eight eggs.
At almost every step I took, when walking round one of the reed-lined
islets, a specimen of the ugly Saurian tribe sprang with a startling
rush into the lake. There appeared also to be as many monitors as there
were crocodiles in this infested islet, and all round me, from the
little creeks, and sometimes in very close proximity, lowed the
hippopotami. I shot one of the monitors, and it measured 7 feet from the
tip of the snout to the tip of the tail. One of the boat’s crew skinned
it, but, not having means or time to preserve it, we were finally
compelled to abandon our treasure. Being extremely keen-eyed and agile
in its movements, the monitor is a valuable auxiliary to the more
indolent crocodile, which it wakes frequently from slumber, and by its
impetuous rush at sight of the intruder saves it from becoming a prey to
the hunter. In return for its services the greater monster furnishes it
with many a delicious meal on its eggs. The enormous number of smaller
lizards, skinks, and geckos, which these islets also sustain, prove that
the monitors have abundant means of supplies.
From here we sailed round the coast of Wiru, and leaving about four
miles on our left the Kuneneh group, we steered N.N.W. Mag. for the
Irangara Islands, at the north-western extremity of Ukerewé, the shore
presenting to our view throughout only a low hill range clothed with
woods. Leaving Irangara behind us, we emerged in view of the vast
amplitude, as though of ocean, of the Victoria Nyanza.[9]
After sailing past the Kamassi and Kindevi islets, we rounded the hilly
point of Masonga, and beheld on our right, as far as Shizu Island, a
broad bay, bounded by a crescent-shaped ridge, springing some 300 feet
above the lake, and extensively wooded, while on our left lay the large
and populous island of Ukara, peopled by an intensely superstitious
colony, who cherish the most devout faith in charms and witchcraft.
_March 16._—As we rowed past Shizu Island, we beheld the table-topped
mountain of Majita rising, massive and grand, to the eastward. On the
16th of March we encamped on one of the bird-rocks about three miles
from the base of Majita, which rises probably between 2000 and 3000
feet above the lake. From the northern angle of Majita we sailed,
on a north-east course for the district of Wye, across a deep bay
distinguished only for the short hill range of Usambara, between which,
on either side, extends the low and almost treeless plain of Shahshi to
the waters of Speke Gulf.
From Wye we coasted along populous Ururi. The country appears well
cultivated, and villages are numerous. Some of the Waruri fishermen
informed us we should be eight years circumnavigating the lake! Numerous
rocky islands, almost all uninhabited at this period, stud the
neighbourhood of the mainland, and the coast is so indented with deep
bays and inlets that it requires very careful attention to survey it.
Its features are similar to those of Usukuma, namely, swelling and
uneven lines of hills, sometimes with slopes extending for three or four
miles, more often, as in the case of nearly all the headlands, with
points springing abrupt and sheer from the water’s edge. Wherever the
ridges rise gradually and at a distance from the lake, special
advantages for cultivation appear to obtain, for I have noted that all
such sites were thickly populated by the tribes of Ururi, Ukerewé, Sima,
Magu, or Uchambi. A few of the Burdett-Coutts Islands exhibited traces
of having been the resort of fugitives, for on several of them we
discovered bananas and other garden plants, and ruined huts. We struck
across the bay to Ikungu, and thence across another to picturesque Dobo,
nearly opposite Irieni.
_March 17._—Having arrived at anchorage at dusk, we were led to seek
shelter under the lee of one of the outlying rocks of Dobo. We had
moored both by bow and stern, to prevent being swept by the restless
surf against the rocks, but about midnight a storm arose from the
eastward, exposing us to all its fury. We were swept with great force
against the rocks, and should inevitably have been lost had not the
oars, which we had lashed outside the boat as fenders, protected it.
Through the pelting rain, and amid the thunders of the aroused waves
which lashed the reef, we laboured strenuously to save ourselves, and
finally succeeded in rowing to the other lee.
Externally, the aspect of these islands on the coast of Ururi is very
rugged, bare, and unpromising, but within are many acres of cultivable
soil covered with green grass, and the hippopotami, which abound in the
neighbourhood of these deserted, grassy islands, here find luxurious
pasturage. Like the tribes on the mainland, these amphibiæ appear to
possess also their respective boundaries and their separate haunts. The
hippopotami of Lake Victoria, moreover, are an excessively belligerent
species, and the unwary voyager, on approaching their haunts, exposes
himself to danger. We were frequently chased by them; and as the boat
was not adapted for a combat with such pachyderms, a collision would
have been fatal to us. The settlements at Irieni possess large herds of
cattle, but the soil does not seem to be highly cultivated. In this
respect the people appear to resemble in character the Watusi in
Unyamwezi, who live only on the milk of their cattle, and such grain as
they are enabled to obtain by its sale.
_March 18._—Suspecting, after leaving Irieni, and approaching Mori Bay,
that a river of considerable importance emptied into it, we paid
particular attention to every indentation on its uneven coast; but on
arriving at a lofty though small island at the eastern extremity, and
climbing to its summit 150 feet above the lake, we saw that the river
was small, and that its course was from south of east. Observation
Island was rich in plants, though only a few hundred yards in length.
The wild pine-apple, mimosas, acacia, thorn, gum, vines, euphorbias,
eschinomenæ, llianes, water-cane, and spear-grass flourished with a
luxuriance quite astonishing. As we passed Utiri, we observed that the
natives were much interested in our boat, and some fishermen whom we
encountered fell into ecstasies of laughter when they saw the novel
method we adopted for propelling her. They mocked us good-naturedly, and
by their gestures seemed to express contempt for the method in question,
as not being equal to paddling. The rudder and its uses also excited
unusual astonishment, and when the sail was hoisted, they skurried away
as though it were an object of terror.
_March 19._—After leaving the hilly coast of Utiri, the lowlands of
Shirati and Mohruru rose into view, and the black mountain mass of
Ugeyeya appeared to the eastward at the distance of about twenty miles.
To the west of it, grim and lofty, loomed the island of Ugingo. Clusters
of grey, rocky islets stud the lake along the coast of Shirati, while
from the water’s edge, to a distance of five or six miles, an
uninteresting plain, unenlivened by forest or verdure, slopes slowly up
to where the land breaks into groups and masses of irregular hills. This
continues to the mouth of a river which the natives call Gori, and which
terminates the country of Ururi. On the right bank of the river begins
mountainous Ugeyeya, the south-western extremity of which runs out into
the lake like a promontory.
Gori is an important and powerful river during the rainy season. It is
said to rise in a north-easterly direction near Kavi. Far inland on the
east, to a distance of twenty-five days’ journey, the country is
reported to be a continuous plain, dotted with low hills and containing
water only in pools. About fifteen days’ journey from the lake, the
natives also report a region wherein are “low hills which discharge
smoke and sometimes fire from their tops.” This district is called Susa,
and is a portion of the Masai Land. All concurred in stating that no
stream runs north, but that all waters for at least twenty days’ journey
enter the lake. Beyond that distance lies a small lake which discharges
a stream eastward—supposed by me to be the Pangani.
_March 21._—On the 21st of March we were passing under the lee—for the
wind blew then from the north-east, off the land—of the dark headlands
of Goshi, which at first rise steeply from the lake 900 feet and, later,
receding from the lake, attain a height of from 2000 to 3000 feet. On
our left towered the tall, tree-clad island of Ugingo, extending far to
the north-west. Thin blue columns of smoke rising from the depths of its
woods announced the presence of man, probably fishermen or fugitives
from the mainland. Judging from what I observed of the slopes of this
extremity of Ugeyeya, I should say that much of this portion is
uninhabited. Rounding the point that confronts the island of Ugingo, we
passed between two more uninhabited islands, and then the dome-like
hills of Wakuneh burst upon our view. Our impression of the land on this
side was that it was a pastoral country, and more thickly populated, for
smoke curled more frequently from above depressions and sheltered
positions.
At evening we camped on Bridge Island, so named from a natural bridge of
basaltic rock which forms an irregular arch of about 24 feet in length
by about 12 feet in depth, and under which we were able to pass from one
side of the island to the other. The island is covered with brushwood
and tall grass, and in the interstices of the rocks, where the vegetable
deposit was of great depth, grew several fine mangroves. The height is
about 50 feet above the lake, and from its summit we obtained a fine
view of Ugingo Island, brooding in its gloomy solitude, and of the steep
and high ranges of Ugeyeya, with the level plains of Wagansu and Wigassi
extending eastward. To the west stretched an apparently boundless sea,
its face ruffled by a strong breeze, and farther northward still loomed
upward unknown lands, their contour broken now by rounded domes and
again by sharp cones.
[Illustration: BRIDGE ISLAND.]
_March 22._—The number of islands encountered next day proved so
troublesome to us that we were compelled to creep cautiously along the
shore. As we neared Nakidimo, we observed the water change from its
usual clear grey colour to that of a rich brown, and, seeing a creek
close by, felt fully assured that we had discovered some important
river. As we entered, the creek widened and disclosed picturesque
features of outlined hill and wooded slope. We pulled steadily to its
farther extremity, but the stream which entered here was small, and
oozed through a reedy marsh. We endeavoured for an hour to induce a
canoe with three fishermen in it to approach, but all we could make out
from Saramba, who, I fear, did not understand them, was that the name of
the country was Ugoweh, which sounded so like _You go ’way_ that I
declined accepting it, until the natives shouted out still more clearly
and emphatically, “U-go-weh.” It was evident, however, that these
natives spoke a language that our guide from the south did not quite
comprehend. We continued our keen inspection of the numerous
indentations from Ugoweh (?) to Nakidimo Creek, into which an important
stream debouches. The hippopotami were numerous, and as bold as those of
Speke Gulf.
Emerging once more into the lake, we anchored about a mile from the
shore in 6 fathoms, and found that there was a current of about half a
knot setting westward. At 2 P.M. we hoisted sail, and with a fair wind
were able to hug the mainland and make good progress, within view of a
very populous and extensively cultivated shore. This was the land of
Maheta, we were told, and the same which we had sighted from the summit
of Bridge Island. We flew away with a bellying sail along the coast of
Maheta, where we saw a denser population and more clusters of large
villages than we had beheld elsewhere. We thought we would make one more
effort to learn of the natives the names of some of these villages, and
for that purpose steered for a cove on the western shore. We anchored
within 50 yards, and so paid out our cable that only a few feet of deep
water separated us from the beach. Some half-dozen men, wearing small
land-shells above their elbows and a circle of them round their heads,
came to the brink. With these we opened a friendly conversation, during
which they disclosed the name of the country as “Mahata” or “Maheta” in
Ugeyeya; but more they would not communicate unless we would land. We
prepared to do so, but the numbers on the shore increased so fast that
we were compelled to pull off again until they should moderate their
excitement and make room. They seemed to think we were about to pull off
altogether, for there suddenly appeared out of the bush on each side of
the spot where we had intended to land such a host of spears that we
hoisted sail, and left them to try their treachery on some other boat or
canoe more imprudent than ours. The discomfited people were seen to
consult together on a small ridge behind the bush lining the lake, and
no doubt they thought we were about to pass close to a small point at
the north end of the cove, for they shouted gleefully at the prospect of
a prize; but, lowering sail, we pulled to windward, far out of the reach
of bow or sling, and at dusk made for a small island to which we moored
our boat, and there camped in security.
_March 24._—From our little island off Maheta, we sailed at the dawn of
day towards the low shores, and were making good progress, when we
bumped over the spine of a rising hippopotamus, who, frightened by this
strange and weighty object on his back, gave a furious lunge, and shook
the boat until we all thought she would be shaken to pieces. The hippo,
after this manifestation of disgust, rose a few feet astern, and loudly
roared his defiance; but after experiencing his great strength, we rowed
away hard from his neighbourhood.
About 10 A.M. we found ourselves abreast of the cones of Manyara, and
discovered the long and lofty promontory which had attracted our
attention ever since leaving Maheta to be the island of Usuguru,
another, though larger copy of Ugingo. Through a channel two miles broad
we entered the bay of Manyara, bounded on the east by the picturesque
hills of that country, on the north by the plain of Ugana, and on the
west by Muiwanda and the long, narrow promontory of Chaga. This bay
forms the extreme north-east corner of Lake Victoria, but strangers,
travelling by land, would undoubtedly mistake it for a separate lake, as
Usuguru, when looked at from this bay, seems to overlap the points of
Chaga and Manyara.
About six miles from the north-eastern extremity of the bay, we anchored
on the afternoon of the 24th of March, about 100 yards from the village
of Muiwanda. Here we found a people speaking the language of Usoga. A
good deal of diplomacy was employed between the natives and ourselves
before a friendly intercourse was established, but we were finally
successful in inducing the natives to exchange vegetable produce and a
sheep for some of the blue glass beads called _Mutunda_. Neither men nor
women wore any covering for their nakedness save a kirtle of green
banana-leaves, which appeared to me to resemble in its exceeding
primitiveness the fig-leaf costume of Adam and Eve. The men were
distinguished, besides, by the absence of the upper and lower front
teeth, and by their shaven heads, on which were left only irregular
combs or crescents of hair on the top and over the forehead. While we
were negotiating for food, a magnificent canoe, painted a reddish brown,
came up from the western side of the village, but, despite the loud
invitations tendered to them, the strangers kept on their way and
proceeded up the bay of Manyara.
_March 25._—On the 25th, refreshed by the meat and vegetables we had
purchased, we began our voyage along the northern coast of Lake
Victoria, and, two hours later, were in conversation with the natives of
Chaga or Shaga, who informed us that Murambo, king of Usuguru, was also
king of Chaga. I am unable to decide whether Chaga is a promontory or an
island, but I believe that there is a narrow channel navigable for
canoes (of the same nature as the Rugedzi[10] Channel) separating Chaga
from the mainland. Between its southern point and Usuguru Island, there
is a strait about three-quarters of a mile wide, through which we passed
to Fisherman’s Island, where we rested for our noonday meal. At 2 P.M.
we arrived, after an hour’s rowing, near Ngevi Island, and when close to
it, we were compelled to take shelter from a furious nor’-wester.
We had been at anchor scarcely ten minutes before we saw a small canoe,
paddled by two men, boldly approach us from the shore of Ugamba, distant
about a mile and a half on our right or to the east of us. In our
mildest accents we hailed them, and, after a protracted interval
employed by them in curiously scanning us, they permitted us to hear the
sound of their voices. But nothing would induce them to come nearer than
about 100 yards. In the midst of these vain efforts to win their
confidence, a canoe similar in form and colour to that which had won our
admiration at Muiwanda advanced towards us. A false prow projected
upward, curving in the shape of a bent elbow, from the tip of which to
the top of the bow of the canoe was strung a taut line, and along this
was suspended some fine grass, which waved like a mane as she charged
up, bold and confident, propelled by forty paddlers. Half of this
number, who were seated forward, sprang up when they came within 50
yards, and, seizing long tufted lances and shields, began to sway them
menacingly. As we made no demonstration of resistance, they advanced
cautiously, and when within 20 yards, swerved aside, wheeling round us
in a defiant style.
Finally we broke silence, and demanded who they were, and why they came
up as though they would attack us. As they did not understand either
Kingwana, Kisukuma, or Kinyamwezi, one of my boatmen attempted Kiganda,
a little of which they appeared to understand; and by this means we
opened a conversation. They edged towards us a little nearer, and ended
by ranging their long canoe alongside of our boat. Our tame, mild
manners were in striking contrast to their bullying, overbearing, and
insolent demeanour. The paddlers, half of whom were intoxicated, laid
their hands with familiar freedom upon everything. We still smiled, and
were as mild and placable as though anger and resentment could never
enter our hearts. We were so courteous, indeed, that we permitted them
to handle our persons with a degree of freedom which to them appeared
unaccountable—unless we were so timid that we feared to give offence. If
we had been so many sheep, we could not have borne a milder or a more
innocent aspect. Our bold friends, reeling and jostling one another in
their eagerness to offend, seized their spears and shields, and began to
chant in bacchanalian tones a song that was tipsily discordant. Some
seized their slings and flung stones to a great distance, which we
applauded. Then one of them, under the influence of wine, and spirits
elated by the chant, waxed bolder, and looked as though he would aim at
myself, seated observant but mute in the stern of my boat. I made a
motion with my hand as though deprecating such an action. The sooty
villain seemed to become at once animated by an hysteric passion, and
whirled his stone over my head, a loud drunken cheer applauding his
boldness.
Perceiving that they were becoming wanton through our apparently mild
demeanour, I seized my revolver and fired rapidly into the water, in the
direction the stone had been flung, and the effect was painfully
ludicrous. The bold, insolent bacchanals at the first shot had sprung
overboard, and were swimming for dear life to Ngevi, leaving their canoe
in our hands. “Friends, come back, come back; why this fear?” cried out
our interpreter; “we simply wished to show you that we had weapons as
well as yourselves. Come, take your canoe; see, we push it away for you
to seize it.” We eventually won them back with smiles. We spoke to them
sweetly as before. The natives were more respectful in their demeanour.
They laughed, cried out admiringly; imitated the pistol shots; “Boom,
boom, boom,” they shouted. They then presented me with a bunch of
bananas! We became enthusiastic admirers of each other.
Meantime, two more large canoes came up, also bold and confident, for
they had not yet been taught a lesson. These new-comers insisted that we
should visit their king Kamoydah. We begged to be excused. They became
still more urgent in their request. We said it was impossible; they were
strangers, and not very well behaved; if they wished to barter with us,
they could load their canoes and come to Ngevi, where we would be happy
to exchange beads or cloth for their articles. Three other canoes were
now seen approaching. We sat, however, extremely still, patient, and
placable, and waited for them. The united voices of the 130 natives made
a terrible din, but we endured it with saintly meekness and the
fortitude of stoics—for a period. We bore the storm of entreaties mixed
with rude menace until instinct warned me that it was becoming
dangerous. I then delivered some instructions to the boat’s crew, and,
nodding to the shore, affected to surrender with an indifferent grace.
They became suddenly silent. We lifted the stone anchor, and took to our
oars, steering to the broken water, ruffled by the nor’-wester, beyond
the shelter of the island, convoyed by the six canoes. We accompanied
them some hundreds of yards, and then, suddenly hoisting sail, swept by
them like an arrow. We preferred the prospect of the lone watery expanse
to the company of the perverse inebriates of Ugamba.
We continued sailing for half an hour, and as it was then near sunset,
dropped anchor in 75 feet of water. The wind, which had swept in strong
gusts from the north-west, suddenly fell, for in the north-east the
aspect of the sky had long been threatening. Clouds surged up in thick
masses from that direction, and cast a gloom over the wood-clothed
slopes and crests of Usuguru, which became almost as black as a velvet
pall, while the lake grew as quiet as though vitrified into glass. Soon
the piled up cloud-mass grew jagged, and a portentous zigzag line of
deep sable hue ran through its centre, from which the storm seemed to
issue. I requested the crew to come farther aft, and, fastening a double
rope to the stone anchor, prepared every mug and baler for the rain with
which we were threatened. The wind then fell, as though from above, upon
our bowed heads with an overpowering force, striving against the
resistance which it met, as if it would bear us down to the bottom of
the lake, and then, repelled by the face of the water, it brushed it
into millions of tiny ripples. The temperature fell to 62° Fahr., and
with this sudden cold down dropped a severe shower of hailstones of
great size, which pelted us with great force, and made our teeth
chatter. After this the rain fell in sheets, while the lightning blazed,
preceding the most dreadful thunder-claps I remember to have ever heard.
The rain, indeed, fell in such quantities that it required two men for
each section to keep the boat sufficiently buoyant to ride the crest of
the waves. The crew cried out that the boat was sinking—that, if the
rain continued in such volume, nothing could save us. In reply, I only
urged them to bale her out faster.
The sable mass of Usuguru—as I observed by the bars of intense light
which the lightning flashed almost every second—was still in front, and
I knew, therefore, that we were not being swept very fast to sea. Our
energies were wholly devoted to keeping our poor pelted selves afloat,
and this occupied the crew so much that they half forgot the horrors of
the black and dismal night. For two hours this experience lasted, and
then, unburdening our breasts with sighs of gladness not unmixed with
gratitude, we took our anchor on board, and stole through the darkness
to the western side of Ngevi Island, where, after kindling a fire, we
dried our clothes and our wetted bodies, and, over a hot potful of
Liebig, affected to laugh at our late critical position.
_March 26._—In the morning the world appeared re-born, for the sky was a
bluish crystal, the shores looked as if fresh painted in green, the lake
shone like burnished steel, the atmosphere seemed created for health.
Glowing with new life, we emerged out of our wild arbour of cane and
mangrove to enjoy the glories of a gracious heaven, and the men relieved
their grateful breasts by chanting loudly and melodiously one of their
most animating boat-songs.
As we rowed in this bright mood across the bay of Ugamba, we noticed a
lofty mount which I should judge to be fully 3000 feet above the lake,
towards the north-east. From the natives of Usamu Island, we obtained
the name of Marsawa for this the most conspicuous feature of the
neighbourhood. After obtaining a clear meridian altitude, on a small
island between Usamu and Namungi, we steered for the latter. The art of
pleasing was never attempted with such effect as at Namungi. Though we
had great difficulty in even obtaining a hearing, we persisted in the
practice of the art with all its amusing variations, until our
perseverance was finally rewarded. A young fisherman was despatched to
listen from the shore, but the young wretch merely stared at us. We
tossed into his canoe a bunch of beads, and he understood their
signification. He shouted out to his fellows on the shore, who were
burning with curiosity to see closer the strange boat and strange crew,
amongst whom they saw a man who was like unto no man they had ever seen
or heard, or dreamed of.
A score of canoes loaded with peaceful, harmless souls came towards
us, all of whom begged for beads. When we saw that they could be
inspired to talk, we suggested to them that, in return for food,
abundance of beads might be obtained. They instantly raced for the
banana and plantain groves in great excitement. We were so close that
we could hear the heavy clusters falling under the native machetes,
and within a short time so many bunches were held out to us that we
might have sunk under the waves had we purchased all. After storing a
sufficient quantity to provision us for three days, of bananas, fowls
and eggs, and sweet maramba or banana wine, and eliciting the names
of the various islands, capes, and most prominent hills, we attempted
to resume our journey. But the people, upon whom our liberality had
produced too strong an effect, would not permit us to do so until
we had further celebrated our acquaintance with copious draughts of
their delicious wine. The Wangwana would have been delighted to have
exhausted many days in such a fascinating life, but the coast of the
Victoria was lengthy, the winds not always favourable, and we had a
large number of friends in Usukuma who might become restless, were we
too long absent. We therefore set sail, convoyed a long distance by
about thirty canoes, manned by light-hearted guileless creatures in an
extreme state of enjoyment and redundant hilarity.
This was altogether a remarkable scene; our exploring boat, with its
lug-sail set, dragging about thirty canoes, whose crews were all
intoxicated, and whose good-nature was so excessive as to cause them to
supply our boat’s crew with copious quantities of their wine, until all
were in an uncommonly joyous mood. It would be well worth describing in
detail, but I am compelled to be brief. After sailing in company a few
miles, we finally freed ourselves from our hospitable entertainers, and
steering across the channel to the island opposite Neygano, coasted
along its well-wooded shores. Perceiving a deep bay farther west, we
entered it, and near the extreme eastern end of Uvuma anchored about 150
yards off the village of Mombiti.
Had we been better acquainted with the character of the Wavuma, we
probably should have been less inclined to visit their shores, but,
ignorant of their ferocity, and zealous to perform our duties, we
persevered in attempting to open intercourse with this tribe. We were,
however, prudent enough not to rush into danger by taking it for granted
that most savages were a guileless, amiable set, who would never dream
of injuring or molesting strangers—and this circumspection most likely
saved our lives.
After a few minutes’ distant conversation, the Wavuma approached us,
and we were enabled to purchase fuel for cooking, making a liberal
payment. We hoped they would be induced to sell us food also, not that
we were really in need of it, but because it furnished us with another
motive for continuing our intercourse, and enlarged our opportunities
for studying their nature and habits, and obtaining names for the
localities around. We had numerous visitors, who appeared to be fine,
manly, well-made fellows, but nothing would induce them to bring the
smallest quantity of food for sale. We therefore resignedly forbore
from troubling them, but inspected them with as much interest as they
inspected us. They were evidently people with abundant self-confidence,
from the cool complacency with which they regarded us. Their canoes
were beautiful specimens, and descriptions and pictures of them will
be given hereafter. The shores were bold, irregular in outline, and
clothed with a luxuriance of vegetation and many tall trees, between
which were seen the banana groves, their pale green colour strongly
contrasting with the darker tints of the forest foliage.
The night that followed was wild. At sunset the temperature fell to 70°
Fahr., and the wind was charged with a cold drizzle. Being in rather an
exposed position, we moved our anchorage near the mouth of the Munulu
river, and not a minute too soon, for the wind increased to a gale; and
the gale, heralded by a short-lived squall, brought hailstones with it.
Preparing to pass the night here, we covered the boat with a sail, under
which the sailors slept, though the watch, frequently relieved, was
obliged to maintain a strict look-out. Throughout the long hours of
darkness, the gale maintained its force; the boat pitched and groaned,
and the rain fell in torrents; the seas frequently tossed capfuls of
water into us, so that, under such circumstances, we enjoyed no rest.
_March 27._—By morning the gale had subsided, and the heavy, sluggish
waves were slumbering. After waiting to cook our morning meal, and
assisting the restoration of animal heat with draughts of Liebig’s
extract liquefied, we resumed our journey along the southern coast of
Uvuma about 8 A.M.
Upon leaving the bay of Mombiti, we were compelled to pass by a point of
land closely covered with tall grass, whither we saw a large force of
natives rush to take up advantageous positions. As we slowly neared the
point, a few of them advanced to the rocks, and beckoned us to approach
nearer. We acceded so far as to approach within a few feet, when the
natives called out something, and immediately attacked us with large
rocks. We sheered off immediately, when a crowd emerged from their
hiding-place with slings, with which they flung stones at us, striking
the boat and wounding the steersman, who was seated next to me. To
prevent further harm, I discharged my revolver rapidly at them, and one
of the natives fell: whereupon the others desisted from their attack,
and retreated into the grass, leaving us to pursue our way unmolested.
Again edging close to the shore, we continued our investigations of the
numerous indentations. The island rose with steep, grassy, treeless
slopes to a height of about 300 feet above the lake. Herds of cattle
were abundant, and flocks of goats grazed on the hillsides. The villages
were many, but unenclosed, and consisted of a few dome-like huts, from
which we inferred that the Wavuma were a people who could well defend
themselves. At this time the lake was as still as a pond; no clouds hung
over any part of the horizon; the sky was of a steel-blue colour, out of
which the sun shone with true tropical fervour. But the atmosphere was
not clear; a light vapour rose out of the lake, trembling in the heat,
rendering islands but five miles distant dim and indistinct.
Arrived in the channel between the tawny, grass-clad island of Bugeyeya
and that of Uvuma, we steered midway, that we might take compass
bearings. From a small cove in the Uvuma shores, abreast of us, emerged
quite a fleet of canoes, thirteen in number. The more advanced held up a
handful of sweet-potatoes to our view, and we ceased rowing, but left
the sail hoisted, which, with the very slight breeze then blowing,
drifted us westward about half a knot an hour.
The Wavuma were permitted to range alongside, and we saw that they were
fully armed with spear and shield. We offered several kinds of beads for
the potatoes they had offered to sell, but with a gesture of contempt
they refused everything, and from their actions and manner we became
soon convinced that they had manned their canoes for other purposes than
barter; besides, they possessed only about twenty potatoes, which,
singularly enough, were all in the first canoe. Strange to say, also,
the men of the first canoe were, though disinclined to sell, moderate in
their behaviour; but their temper changed as soon as their comrades had
arrived, and had taken up their positions in front of our boat, blocking
our progress through the water. The Wavuma, now emboldened by their
numbers, waxed noisy, then insolent, and finally aggressive. They seized
one thing after another with a cunning dexterity, which required all our
attention to divine their purpose; and while we were occupied with the
truculent rabble in our front, a movement of which we were unaware was
being made successfully at the stern; but the guide, Saramba, catching
sight of a thief, warned me to cast my eyes behind, and I detected him
in the act of robbery. Becoming assured by this time that the Wavuma had
arrived in such numbers for the sole purpose of capturing what appeared
to them an apparently easy prey, and their manœuvres were evidently
intended to embarrass us and distract our attention, I motioned them to
depart with my hand, giving orders at the same time to the boat’s crew
to make ready their oars. This movement, of necessity, caused them to
declare their purposes, and they manifested them by audaciously laying
their hands on the oars, and arresting the attempts of the boat’s crew
to row. Either we were free or we were not. If yet free men, with the
power to defend our freedom, we must be permitted to continue our voyage
on the sea without let or hindrance. If not free men, we had first to be
disarmed. I seized my gun, and motioned them again to depart. With a
loud, scornful cry they caught up their spears and shields, and prepared
to launch their weapons. To be saved, we must act quickly, and I fired
over their heads; and as they fell back from the boat, I bade my men
pull away. Forming a line on each side of us, about 30 yards off, they
flung their spears, which the boat’s crew avoided by dropping into the
bottom of the boat. The canoes astern clapped their hands gleefully,
showing me a large bunch of _Mutunda_ beads which had been
surreptitiously abstracted from the stern of the boat. I seized my
repeating rifle and fired in earnest, to right and left. The fellow with
the beads was doubled up, and the boldest of those nearest to us was
disabled. The big rifle, aimed at the waterline of two or three of the
canoes, perforated them through and through, which compelled the crews
to pay attention to their sinking crafts, and permitted us to continue
our voyage into Napoleon Channel and to examine the Ripon Falls.[11] On
an uninhabited point of Usoga, near the falls, we encamped; and on the
29th of March crossed the channel, and coasted along Uganda between
numerous islands, the largest of which are densely inhabited.
At Kiwa Island we rested for the day, and were received with the
greatest cordiality by the chief, who sent messengers to the island of
Keréngé, a distance of three miles, to purchase bananas and jars of
maramba wine, for the guest, as he said, of the _Kabaka_ Mtesa. As it
was the first time for twenty-two days that we had lived with natives
since leaving Kagehi we celebrated, as we were in duty bound, our
arrival among friends.
_March 30._—The next day, guided and escorted by the chief, we entered
Ukafu, where we found a tall handsome young Mtongoleh in command of the
district, before whom the chief of Kiwa Island made obeisance as before
a great lord. The young Mtongoleh, though professing an ardent interest
in us, and voluble of promises, treated us only to Barmecide fare after
waiting twenty-four hours. Perceiving that his courtesies, though
suavely proffered, failed to satisfy the cravings of our jaded stomachs,
we left him still protesting enormous admiration for us, and still
volubly assuring us that he was preparing grand hospitalities in our
honour.
I was staggered when I understood in its full extent the perfect art
with which we had been duped. “Could this be Central Africa,” I asked
myself, “wherein we find such perfect adepts in the art of deception?
But two days ago the savagery of the land was intense and real, for
every man’s hand was raised in ferocity against the stranger. In the
land next adjoining we find a people polite, agreeable, and professing
the warmest admiration for the stranger, but as inhospitable as any
hotel-keeper in London or New York to a penniless guest!”
At a little village in the bay of Buka we discovered we were premature
in our judgment. The Mtongoleh at this place invited us to his village,
spread out before us a feast of new as well as clotted milk, mellow and
ripe bananas, a kid, sweet-potatoes, and eggs, and despatched a
messenger instantly to the _Kabaka_ Mtesa to announce the coming of a
stranger in the land, declaring, at the same time, his intention not to
abandon us until he had brought us face to face with the great monarch
of Equatorial Africa, in whom, he smilingly assured us, we should meet a
friend, and under whose protection we might sleep secure.
_April 1._—We halted one more day to enjoy the bounteous fare of the
chief of Buka. My admiration for the land and the people steadily
increased, for I experienced with each hour some pleasing civility.
The land was in fit accord with the people, and few more interesting
prospects could Africa furnish than that which lovingly embraces the
bay of Buka. From the margin of the lake, lined by waving water-cane,
up to the highest hill-top, all was verdure—of varying shades. The
light green of the elegant matete contrasted with the deeper tints of
the various species of fig; the satin-sheeny fronds of the graceful
plantains were overlapped by clouds of the pale foliage of the
tamarind; while between and around all, the young grass of the pastured
hillsides spreads its emerald carpet. In free, bold, and yet graceful
outline, the hills shut in the scene, swelling upward in full dome-like
contour, here sweeping round to enclose within its hollow a gorgeous
plantain-grove, there projecting boldly into abrupt, steep headlands,
and again receding in a succession of noble terraces into regions as
yet unexplored by the white man. One village had a low pebbly beach,
that ran in a sinuous light-grey line between the darker grey face
of the lake and the living perennial green of a banana plantation. I
imagined myself fallen into an estate which I had inherited by right
divine and human, or at least I felt something akin to that large
feeling which heirs of unencumbered broad lands may be supposed to
feel, and attributed such an unusual feeling to an attack of perfect
digestion, and a free, unclogged, and undisturbed liver.
_April 2._—On the 2nd of April we proceeded, in an amiable,
light-hearted mood, the favourites both of men and nature, along the
beautiful shore separating Buka Bay from Kadzi Bay, and halted about
noon at the village of Kirudo, where we experienced hospitalities
similar to those of the day previous. We purposely made our voyages
short, in order that the _Kabaka_ might be informed in time of our
coming.
_April 3._—Just as we were about to depart next morning, we saw six
beautiful canoes, crowded with men, coming round a point, and for a very
short period were under the impression that they composed another
piratical fleet on its way to intercept us, but on surveying them with
my glass I saw that several who were seated amidships were dressed in
white, like the Wangwana, and our Waganda guides, among whom was our
hospitable entertainer of Buka, informed us that they were the
_Kabaka’s_ people. As they approached us, the commander was seen
arraying himself for the occasion. He donned a bead-worked head-dress,
above which long white cock’s feathers waved, and a snowy white and
long-haired goat-skin, while a crimson robe, depending from his
shoulders, completed the full dress.
In the middle of the bay of Kadzi we encountered, and a most ceremonious
greeting took place. The commander was a fine lusty young man of twenty
or thereabouts, and after springing into our boat he knelt down before
me, and declared his errand to the following effect:—
“The _Kabaka_ sends me with many salaams to you. He is in great hopes
that you will visit him, and has encamped at Usavara, that he may be
near the lake when you come. He does not know from what land you have
come, but I have a swift messenger with a canoe who will not stop until
he gives all the news to the _Kabaka_. His mother dreamed a dream a few
nights ago, and in her dream she saw a white man on this lake in a boat
coming this way, and the next morning she told the _Kabaka_, and, lo!
you have come. Give me your answer, that I may send the messenger.
Twiyanzi-yanzi-yanzi!” (Thanks, thanks, thanks.)
Whereupon, as the young commander, whose name was Magassa, understood
Kiswahili, I delivered the news to him and to his people freely and
frankly; and after I had ended, Magassa translated what the information
was into Kiganda, and immediately the messenger departed. Meanwhile
Magassa implored me to rest for this one day, that he might show me the
hospitality of his country, and that I might enter the _Kabaka’s_
presence in good humour with him. Persuaded also by my boat’s crew to
consent, we rowed to the village of Kadzi. Magassa was in his glory now.
His voice became imperious to his escort of 182 men; even the feathers
of his curious head-dress waved prouder, and his robe had a sweeping
dignity worthy of a Roman emperor’s. Upon landing, Magassa’s stick was
employed frequently. The sub-chief of Kadzi was compelled to yield
implicit obedience to his vice-regal behests.
“Bring out bullocks, sheep, and goat’s milk, and the mellowest of your
choicest bananas, and great jars of maramba, and let the white man and
his boatmen eat, and taste of the hospitalities of Uganda. Shall a white
man enter the _Kabaka’s_ presence with an empty belly? See how sallow
and pinched his cheeks are. We want to see whether we cannot show him
kindness superior to what the pagans have shown him.”
Two bullocks and four goats, a basketful of fat mellow bananas, and four
two gallon jars of maramba, were then brought before us, to which
extraordinary bounty the boat’s crew did ample justice. Nor were the
escort of Magassa without supplies. The country was at their mercy. They
killed three bullocks for themselves, cut down as many bananas as they
wished, and made a raid on the chickens, in accordance with Magassa’s
serene gracious permission to help themselves.
“A wonderful land!” I thought, “where an entire country can be subjected
to such an inordinate bully and vain youth as this Magassa, at the mere
mention of the _Kabaka’s_ name, and very evidently with the _Kabaka’s_
sanction!” Uganda was new to us then. We were not aware how supreme the
_Kabaka’s_ authority was; but, having a painful suspicion that the vast
country which recognised his power was greatly abused, and grieving that
the poor people had to endure such rough treatment for my sake, I did my
best to prevent Magassa from extorting to excess.
_April 4._—The next day we sallied forth from Kadzi Bay, with Magassa’s
escort leading the way. We crossed Bazzi Bay, from the middle of which
we gained a view of old Sabaganzi’s Hill, a square tabular mount, from
the summit of which Magassa said we should see the whole of Murchison
Bay and Rubaga, one of the _Kabaka’s_ capitals. About 10 A.M. we rounded
Muvwo Point, and entered Murchison Bay. The entrance is about four miles
wide, and naturally guarded by Linant Island, a lofty, dome-shaped
island, situated between the opposing points of Muvwo and Umbiru. Upon
leaving Muvwo south of us we have a full view of this fine body of
water, which reaches its extreme width between Soweh Island and Ukumba.
This, the farthest reach of its waters west, is about ten miles across,
while its extreme length, from Linant Island to the arm of Monyono Bay,
where Mtesa keeps his favourite canoes, cannot be less than fourteen
miles.
We encamped, according to Magassa’s wish, behind Soweh Island, on the
east side of Murchison Bay, whence, the next day, we were to start for
Usavara, the _Kabaka’s_ hunting village.
-----
# 9:
Out of respect to the memory of Captain Speke, I leave the word Nyanza
as he spelled it, adding only the explanation that none but the Arabs
and Wangwana pronounce it N’yanza. All the native tribes and nations
round the lake pronounce it either Nee-yanja or Nee-yanza, Niyanja or
Niyanza.
# 10:
Rugedzi is the name of the narrow channel which separates Ukerewé from
the mainland.
# 11:
A more detailed account of this part of the lake will be given in
later chapters, as I paid three visits to the Ripon Falls, and during
the third visit photographed them.