The twin rivers—Mankorongo baulked of his loot—Poor Bull! True to the
death—Msenna breaks out again—The Terror of Africa appears on the
scene—Mars at peace—“Dig potatoes, potatoes, potatoes”—Mirambo, the
bandit chief, and I make blood-brotherhood—Little kings with “big
heads”—Practical conversion of the chief of Ubagwé—The Watuta, the
Ishmaels of Africa—Their history—African nomenclature—From Msené
across the Malagarazi to Ujiji—Sad memories.
_April 7._—Along the valley of Uyagoma, in Western Usui, stretches east
and west a grass-covered ridge, beautiful in places with rock-strewn
dingles, tapestried with ferns and moss, and bright with vivid foliage.
From two such fair nooks, halfway down either slope, the northern and
the southern, drip in great rich drops the sources of two impetuous
rivers—on the southern the Malagarazi, on the other the Lohugati. Though
nurtured in the same cradle, and issuing within 2000 yards of one
another, the twin streams are strangers throughout their lives. Through
the thick ferns and foliage, the rivulets trickle each down his
appointed slope, murmuring as they gather strength to run their destined
course—the Lohugati to the Victoria Lake, the Malagarazi to distant
Tanganika.
While the latter river is in its infancy, collecting its first tribute
of waters from the rills that meander down from the mountain folds round
the basin of Uyagoma, and is so shallow that tiny children can paddle
through it, the people of Usui call it the Meruzi. When we begin our
journey from Uyagoma, we follow its broadening course for a couple of
hours, through the basin, and by that time it has become a river _nomine
dignum_, and, plunging across it, we begin to breast the mountains,
which, rising in diagonal lines of ridges from north-east to south-west
across Usui, run in broken series into Northern Uhha, and there lose
themselves in a confusion of complicated masses and clumps.
The Meruzi wanders round and through these mountain masses in mazy
curves, tumbles from height to height, from terrace to terrace,
receiving as it goes the alliance of myriads of petty rivulets and
threads of clear water, until, arriving at the grand forest lands of
Unyamwezi, it has assumed the name of Lukoke, and serves as a boundary
between Unyamwezi and Uhha.
Meanwhile we have to cross a series of mountain ridges clothed with
woods; and at a road leading from Kibogora’s land to the territory of
the turbulent and vindictive Mankorongo, successor of Swarora, we meet
an embassy, which demands in a most insolent tone that we should pass by
his village. This means, of course, that we must permit ourselves to be
defrauded of two or three bales of cloth, half-a-dozen guns, a sack or
two of beads, and such other property as he may choose to exact, for the
privilege of lengthening our journey some forty miles, and a delay of
two or three weeks.
The insolent demand is therefore not to be entertained, and we return a
decided refusal. They are not satisfied with the answer, and resort to
threats. Threats in the free, uninhabited forest constitute a _casus
belli_. So the chiefs are compelled to depart without a yard of cloth on
the instant, and after their departure we urge our pace until night, and
from dawn next morning to 3 P.M. we continue the journey with unabated
speed, until we find ourselves in Nyambarri, Usambiro, rejoiced to find
that we have foiled the dangerous king.
_April 13._—On the 13th of April we halted to refresh the people.
Usambiro, like all Unyamwezi, produces sufficient grain, sesamum,
millet, Indian corn, and vetches, besides beans and peas, to supply all
caravans and expeditions. I have observed that lands producing grain are
more easy of access than pastoral countries, or those which only supply
milk, bananas, and potatoes to their inhabitants.
At Nyambarri we met two Arab caravans fresh from Mankorongo, of whom
they gave fearful accounts, from which I inferred that the extortionate
chief would be by no means pleased when he came to understand how he had
been baffled in his idea of spoliating our Expedition.
Here the notorious Msenna for the third time ruptured the peace. He was
reported to be inciting a large number of Wangwana and Wanyamwezi to
desert in a body, offering himself as guide to conduct them to
Unyanyembé; and several young fellows, awed by his ungovernable temper
and brutal disposition, had yielded to his persuasions. Msenna was
therefore reduced to the ranks, and instead of being entrusted with the
captaincy of ten men, was sentenced to carry a box, under the watchful
eye of Kachéché, for a period of six months.
_April 14._—During the march from Nyambarri to Gambawagao, the chief
village of Usambiro, ancient “Bull,” the last of all the canine
companions which left England with me, borne down by weight of years and
a land journey of about 1500 miles, succumbed. With bulldog tenacity he
persisted in following the receding figures of the gun-bearers, who were
accustomed to precede him in the narrow way. Though he often staggered
and moaned, he made strenuous efforts to keep up, but at last, lying
down in the path, he plaintively bemoaned the weakness of body that had
conquered his will, and soon after died—his eyes to the last looking
_forward_ along the track he had so bravely tried to follow.
[Illustration:
“BULL.”
(_From a photograph by the Author._)
]
Poor dog! Good and faithful service had he done me! Who more rejoiced
than he to hear the rifle-shot ringing through the deep woods! Who more
loudly applauded success than he with his deep, mellow bark! What long
forest-tracts of tawny plains and series of mountain ranges had he not
traversed! How he plunged through jungle and fen, morass and stream! In
the sable blackness of the night his voice warned off marauders and
prowling beasts from the sleeping camp. His growl responded to the
hideous jabber of the greedy hyæna, and the snarling leopard did not
dismay him. He amazed the wondering savages with his bold eyes and
bearing, and by his courageous front caused them to retreat before him;
and right bravely did he help us to repel the Wanyaturu from our camp in
Ituru. Farewell, thou glory of thy race! Rest from thy labours in the
silent forest! Thy feet shall no more hurry up the hill or cross mead
and plain; thy form shall rustle no more through the grasses, or be
plunging to explore the brake; thou shalt no longer dash after me across
the savannahs, for thou art gone to the grave, like the rest of thy
companions!
The king of Usambiro exchanged gifts with us, and appeared to be a
clever, agreeable young man. His people, though professing to be
Wanyamwezi, are a mixture of Wahha and Wazinja. He has constructed a
strong village, and surrounded it with a fosse 4 feet deep and 6 feet
wide, with a stockade and “marksmen’s nests” at intervals round it. The
population of the capital is about 2000.
Boma Kiengo, or Msera, lies five miles south-south-east from the
capital, and its chief, seeing that we had arrived at such a good
understanding with the king, also exerted himself to create a favourable
impression.
_April 18._—Musonga lies twelve miles south-south-east of Boma Kiengo,
and is the most northerly village of the country of Urangwa. On the 18th
of April, a march of fifteen miles enabled us to reach the capital,
Ndeverva, another large stockaded village, also provided with
“marksmen’s nests,” and surrounded by a fosse.
We were making capital marches. The petty kings, though they exacted a
small interchange of gifts, which compelled me to disburse cloth a
little more frequently than was absolutely necessary, were not insolent,
nor so extortionate as to prevent our intercourse being of the most
friendly character.
But on the day we arrived at Urangwa, lo! there came up in haste, while
we were sociably chatting together, a messenger to tell us that the
phantom, the bugbear, the terror whose name silences the children of
Unyamwezi and Usukuma, and makes women’s hearts bound with fear; that
Mirambo himself was coming—that he was only two camps, or about twenty
miles, away—that he had an immense army of Ruga-Ruga (bandits) with him!
The consternation at this news, the dismay and excitement, the
discussion and rapid interchange of ideas suggested by terror throughout
the capital, may be conceived. Barricades were prepared, sharp-shooters’
platforms, with thick bulwarks of logs, were erected. The women hastened
to prepare their charms, the Waganga consulted their spirits, each
warrior and elder examined his guns and loaded them, ramming the powder
down the barrels of their Brummagem muskets with desperately vengeful
intentions, while the king hastened backwards and forwards with
streaming robes of cotton behind him, animated by a hysterical energy.
[Illustration: SEROMBO HUTS.]
I had 175 men under my command, and forty of the Arabs’ people were with
me, and we had many boxes of ammunition. The king recollected these
facts, and said, “You will stop to fight Mirambo, will you not?”
“Not I, my friend; I have no quarrel with Mirambo, and we cannot join
every native to fight his neighbour. If Mirambo attacks the village
while I am here, and will not go away when I ask him, we will fight; but
we cannot stop here to wait for him.”
The poor king was very much distressed when we left the next morning. We
despatched our scouts ahead, as we usually did when traversing troublous
countries, and omitted no precaution to guard against surprise.
_April 19._—On the 19th we arrived at one of the largest villages or
towns in Unyamwezi, called Serombo or Sorombo. It was two miles and a
half in circumference, and probably contained over a thousand large and
small huts, and a population of about 5000.
The present king’s name is Ndega, a boy of sixteen, the son of Makaka,
who died about two years ago. Too young himself to govern the large
settlement and the country round, two elders, or Manyapara, act as
regents during his minority.
We were shown to a peculiar-shaped hut, extremely like an Abyssinian
dwelling. The height of the doorway was 7 feet, and from the floor to
the top of the conical roof it was 20 feet. The walls were of interwoven
sticks, plastered over neatly with brown clay. The king’s house was 30
feet high from the ground to the tip of the cone, and 40 feet in
diameter within; but the total diameter including the circular fence or
palisade that supported the broad eaves, and enclosed a gallery which
ran round the house, was 54 feet.
Owing to this peculiar construction a desperate body of 150 men might
from the circular gallery sustain a protracted attack from a vastly
superior foe, and probably repel it.
Ndega is a relative of Mirambo by marriage, and he soon quieted all
uneasy minds by announcing that the famous man who was now advancing
upon Serombo had just concluded a peace with the Arabs, and that
therefore no trouble was to be apprehended from his visit, it being
solely a friendly visit to his young relative.
Naturally we were all anxious to behold the “Mars of Africa,” who since
1871 has made his name feared by both native and foreigner from Usui to
Urori, and from Uvinza to Ugogo, a country embracing 90,000 square
miles, who, from the village chieftainship over Uyoweh, has made for
himself a name as well known as that of Mtesa throughout the eastern
half of Equatorial Africa, a household word from Nyangwé to Zanzibar,
and the theme of many a song of the bards of Unyamwezi, Ukimbu,
Ukonongo, Uzinja, and Uvinza.
On the evening of our arrival at Serombo’s we heard his Brown Besses—
called by the natives Gumeh-Gumeh—announcing to all that the man with
the dread name lay not far from our vicinity.
At dusk the huge drums of Serombo signalled silence for the town-criers,
whose voices, preceded by the sound of iron bells, were presently heard
crying out:—
“Listen, O men of Serombo. Mirambo, the brother of Ndega, cometh in the
morning. Be ye prepared, therefore, for his young men are hungry. Send
your women to dig potatoes, dig potatoes. Mirambo cometh. Dig potatoes,
potatoes, dig potatoes, to-morrow!”
_April 20._—At 10 A.M. the Brown Besses, heavily charged and fired off
by hundreds, loudly heralded Mirambo’s approach, and nearly all my
Wangwana followed the inhabitants of Serombo outside to see the famous
chieftain. Great war-drums and the shouts of admiring thousands
proclaimed that he had entered the town, and soon little Mabruki, the
chief of the tent-boys, and Kachéché, the detective, on whose
intelligence I could rely, brought an interesting budget to me.
Mabruki said: “We have seen Mirambo. He has arrived. We have beheld
the Ruga-Ruga, and there are many of them, and all are armed with
Gumeh-Gumeh. About a hundred are clothed in crimson cloth and white
shirts, like our Wangwana. Mirambo is not an old man.”
Kachéché said: “Mirambo is not old, he is young: I must be older than he
is. He is a very nice man, well dressed, quite like an Arab. He wears
the turban, fez, and cloth coat of an Arab, and carries a scimitar. He
also wears slippers, and his clothes under his coat are very white. I
should say he has about a thousand and a half men with him, and they are
all armed with muskets or double-barrelled guns. Mirambo has three young
men carrying his guns for him. Truly, Mirambo is a great man!”
The shrill Lu-lu-lu’s, prolonged and loud, were still maintained by the
women, who entertained a great respect for the greatest king in
Unyamwezi.
[Illustration: A “RUGA-RUGA,” ONE OF MIRAMBO’S PATRIOTS.]
Presently Manwa Sera, the chief captain of the Wangwana, came to my hut,
to introduce three young men—Ruga-Ruga (bandits), as we called them, but
must do so no more lest we give offence—handsomely dressed in fine red
and blue cloth coats, and snowy white shirts, with ample turbans around
their heads. They were confidential captains of Mirambo’s bodyguard.
“Mirambo sends his salaams to the white man,” said the principal of
them. “He hopes the white man is friendly to him, and that he does not
share the prejudices of the Arabs, and believe Mirambo a bad man. If it
is agreeable to the white man, will he send words of peace to Mirambo?”
“Tell Mirambo,” I replied, “that I am eager to see him, and would be
glad to shake hands with so great a man, and as I have made strong
friendship with Mtesa, Rumanika, and all the kings along the road from
Usoga to Unyamwezi, I shall be rejoiced to make strong friendship with
Mirambo also. Tell him I hope he will come and see me as soon as he
can.”
_April 22._—The next day Mirambo, having despatched a Ruga-Ruga—no, a
patriot, I should have said—to announce his coming, appeared with about
twenty of his principal men.
I shook hands with him with fervour, which drew a smile from him as he
said, “The white man shakes hands like a strong friend.”
His person quite captivated me, for he was a thorough African
_gentleman_ in appearance, very different from my conception of the
terrible bandit who had struck his telling blows at native chiefs and
Arabs with all the rapidity of a Frederick the Great environed by foes.
I entered the following notes in my journal on April 22, 1876:—
“This day will be memorable to me for the visit of the famous Mirambo.
He was the reverse of all my conceptions of the redoubtable chieftain,
and the man I had styled the ‘terrible bandit.’
“He is a man about 5 feet 11 inches in height, and about thirty-five
years old, with not an ounce of superfluous flesh about him. A
handsome, regular-featured, mild-voiced, soft-spoken man, with what
one might call a ‘meek’ demeanour, very generous and open-handed.
The character was so different from that which I had attributed
to him that for some time a suspicion clung to my mind that I was
being imposed upon, but Arabs came forward who testified that this
quiet-looking man was indeed Mirambo. I had expected to see something
of the Mtesa type, a man whose exterior would proclaim his life and
rank; but this unpresuming, mild-eyed man, of inoffensive, meek
exterior, whose action was so calm, without a gesture, presented to
the eye nothing of the Napoleonic genius which he has for five years
displayed in the heart of Unyamwezi, to the injury of Arabs and
commerce, and the doubling of the price of ivory. I said there was
_nothing_; but I must except the eyes, which had the steady, calm
gaze of a master.
“During the conversation I had with him, he said he preferred boys or
young men to accompany him to war; he never took middle-aged or old
men, as they were sure to be troubled with wives or children, and did
not fight half so well as young fellows who listened to his words.
Said he, ‘They have sharper eyes, and their young limbs enable them to
move with the ease of serpents or the rapidity of zebras, and a few
words will give them the hearts of lions. In all my wars with the
Arabs, it was an army of youths that gave me victory, boys without
beards. Fifteen of my young men died one day because I said I must
have a certain red cloth that was thrown down as a challenge. No, no,
give me youths for war in the open field, and men for the stockaded
village.’
“‘What was the cause of your war, Mirambo, with the Arabs?’ I asked.
“‘There was a good deal of cause. The Arabs got the big head’ (proud),
‘and there was no talking with them. Mkasiwa of Unyanyembé lost his
head too, and thought I was his vassal, whereas I was not. My father
was king of Uyoweh, and I was his son. What right had Mkasiwa or the
Arabs to say what I ought to do? But the war is now over—the Arabs
know what I can do, and Mkasiwa knows it. We will not fight any more,
but we will see who can do the best trade, and who is the smartest
man. Any Arab or white man who would like to pass through my country
is welcome. I will give him meat and drink, and a house, and no man
shall hurt him.’”
Mirambo retired, and in the evening I returned his visit with ten of the
principal Wangwana. I found him in a bell-tent, 20 feet high and 25 feet
in diameter, with his chiefs around him.
Manwa Sera was requested to seal our friendship by performing the
ceremony of blood-brotherhood between Miramba and myself. Having caused
us to sit fronting each other on a straw-carpet, he made an incision in
each of our right legs, from which he extracted blood, and,
interchanging it, he exclaimed aloud:—
“If either of you break this brotherhood now established between you,
may the lion devour him, the serpent poison him, bitterness be in his
food, his friends desert him, his gun burst in his hands and wound him,
and everything that is bad do wrong to him until death.”
My new brother then gave me fifteen cloths to be distributed among my
chiefs, while he would accept only three from me. But not desirous of
appearing illiberal, I presented him with a revolver and 200 rounds of
ammunition, and some small curiosities from England. Still ambitious to
excel me in liberality, he charged five of his young men to proceed to
Urambo—which name he has now given Uyoweh, after himself—and to select
three milch-cows with their calves, and three bullocks, to be driven to
Ubagwé to meet me. He also gave me three guides to take me along the
frontier of the predatory Watuta.
_April 23._—On the morning of the 23rd he accompanied me outside
Serombo, where we parted on the very best terms with each other. An Arab
in his company, named Sayid bin Mohammed, also presented me with a bar
of Castile soap, a bag of pepper and some saffron. A fine riding-ass,
purchased from Sayid, was named Mirambo by me, because the Wangwana, who
were also captivated by Mirambo’s agreeable manners, insisted on it.
We halted on the 23rd at Mayangira, seven miles and a half from
Serombo, and on the 24th, after a protracted march of eleven miles
south-south-east over flooded plains, arrived at Ukombeh.
_April 24._—At Masumbwa, ten miles from Ukombeh, we encountered a very
arrogant young chief, who called himself Mtemi, or king, and whose
majesty claimed to be honoured with a donation of fifteen cloths—a claim
which was peremptorily refused, despite all he could urge in
satisfaction of it.
Through similar flooded plains, with the water hip-deep in most places,
and after crossing an important stream flowing west-south-west towards
the Malagarazi, we arrived at Myonga’s village, the capital of southern
Masumbwa.
This Myonga is the same valorous chief who robbed Colonel Grant as he
was hurrying with an undisciplined caravan after Speke. (See Speke’s
Journal, page 159, for the following graphic letter:—
“In the Jungles, near M’yonga’s,
“16th Sept. 1861.
“MY DEAR SPEKE,—The caravan was attacked, plundered, and the men
driven to the winds, while marching this morning into M’yonga’s
country.
“Awaking at cock-crow, I roused the camp, all anxious to rejoin you;
and while the loads were being packed, my attention was drawn to an
angry discussion between the head men and seven or eight armed fellows
sent by Sultan M’yonga to insist on my putting up for the day in his
village. They were summarily told that as _you_ had already made him a
present, he need not expect a visit from _me_. Adhering, I doubt not,
to their master’s instructions, they officiously constituted
themselves our guides till we chose to strike off their path, when,
quickly heading our party, they stopped the way, planted their spears,
and _dared_ our advance!
“This menace made us firmer in our determination, and we swept past
the spears. After we had marched unmolested for some seven miles, a
loud yelping from the woods excited our attention, and a sudden rush
was made upon us by, say, two hundred men, who came down _seemingly_
in great glee. In an instant, at the caravan’s centre, they fastened
upon the poor porters. The struggle was short; and with the threat of
an arrow or spear at their breasts, men were robbed of their cloths
and ornaments, loads were yielded and run away with before resistance
could be organised; only three men of a hundred stood by me; the
others, whose only _thought_ was their lives, fled into the woods,
where I went shouting for them. One man, little Rahan—rip as he is—
stood with cocked gun, defending his load against five savages with
uplifted spears. No one else could be seen. Two or three were reported
killed, some were wounded. Beads, boxes, cloths, &c., lay strewed
about the woods. In fact, I felt wrecked. My attempt to go and demand
redress from the sultan was resisted, and, in utter despair. I seated
myself among a mass of rascals jeering round me, and insolent after
the success of the day. Several were dressed in the very cloths, &c.,
they had stolen from my men.
“In the afternoon about fifteen men and loads were brought me, with a
message from the sultan, that the attack had been a _mistake_ of his
subjects—that one man had had a hand cut off for it, and that all the
property would be restored!
“Yours sincerely,
“J. A. GRANT.”)
Age had not lessened the conceit of Myonga, increased his modesty, or
moderated his cupidity. He asserted the rights and privileges of his
royalty with a presumptuous voice and a stern brow. He demanded tribute!
Twenty-five cloths! A gun and five fundo of beads! The Arabs, my
friends, were requested to do the same!
“Impossible, Myonga!” I replied, yet struck with admiration at the
unparalleled audacity of the man.
“People have been obliged to pay what I ask,” the old man said, with a
cunning twinkle in his eyes.
“Perhaps,” I answered; “but whether they have or not, I cannot pay you
so much, and, what is more, I will not. As a sign that we pass through
your country, I give you one cloth, and the Arabs shall only give you
one cloth.”
Myonga blustered and stormed, begged and threatened, and some of his
young men appeared to be getting vicious, when rising I informed him
that to talk loudly was to act like a scolding woman, and, that, when
his elder should arrive at our camp, he would receive two cloths, one
from me and one from the Arabs, as acknowledgment of his right to the
country.
The drum of Myonga’s village at once beat to arms, but the affair went
no further, and the elder received the reasonable and just tribute of
two cloths, with a gentle hint that it would be dangerous to intercept
the Expedition on the road when on the march, as the guns were loaded.
Phunze, chief of Mkumbiro, a village ten miles south by east from
Myonga, and the chief of Ureweh, fourteen miles and a half from
Phunze’s, were equally bold in their demands, but they did not receive
an inch of cloth; but neither of these three chiefs were half so
extortionate as Ungomirwa, king of Ubagwé, a large town of 3000 people.
_April 27._—We met at Ubagwé an Arab trader _en route_ to Uganda, and he
gave us a dismal tale of robbery and extortion practised on him by
Ungomirwa. He had been compelled to pay 150 cloths, five kegs or 50 lbs.
of gunpowder, five guns double-barrelled, and 35 lbs. of beads, the
whole being of the value of 625 dollars, or £125, for the privilege of
passing unmolested through the district of Ubagwé.
When the chief came to see me, I said to him:—
“Why is it, my friend, that your name goes about the country as being
that of a bad man? How is it that this poor Arab has had to pay so much
for going through Ubagwé? Is Ubagwé Unyamwezi, that Ungomirwa demands so
much from the Arabs? The Arab brings cloths, powder, guns into
Unyamwezi. If you rob him of his property, I must send letters to stop
people coming here, then Ungomirwa will become poor, and have neither
powder, guns, nor cloths to wear. What has Ungomirwa to say to his
friend?”
“Ungomirwa,” replied he, “does no more than Ureweh, Phunze, Myonga,
Ndega, Urangwa, and Mankorongo: he takes what he can. If the white man
thinks it is wrong, and will be my friend, I will return it all to the
Arab.”
“Ungomirwa is good. Nay, do not return it all; retain one gun, five
cloths, two fundo of beads, and one keg of powder; that will be plenty,
and nothing but right. I have many Wanyamwezi with me, whom I have made,
good men. I have two from Ubagwé, and one man who was born at Phunze’s.
Let Ungomirwa call the Wanyamwezi, and ask them how the white man treats
Wanyamwezi, and let him try to make them run away, and see what they
will say. They will tell him that all white men are very good to those
who are good.”
Ungomirwa called the Wanyamwezi to him, and asked them why they followed
the white man to wander about the world, leaving their brothers and
sisters. The question elicited the following reply:—
“The white people know everything. They are better than the black people
in heart. We have abundance to eat, plenty to wear, and silver for
ourselves. All we give to the white man is our strength. We carry his
goods for him, and he bestows a father’s care on his black children. Let
Ungomirwa make friends with the white man, and do as he says, and it
will be good for the land of Unyamwezi.”
To whatever cause it was owing, Ungomirwa returned the Arab nearly all
his property, and presented me with three bullocks; and during all the
time that I was his guest at Ubagwé, he exhibited great friendship for
me, and boasted of me to several Watuta visitors who came to see him
during that time; indeed, I can hardly remember a more agreeable stay at
any village in Africa than that which I made in Ubagwé.
Unyamwezi is troubled with a vast number of petty kings, whose
paltriness and poverty have so augmented their pride, that each of them
employ more threats, and makes more demands, than Mtesa, Emperor of
Uganda.
The adage that “Small things make base men proud” holds true in Africa
as in other parts of the world. Sayid bin Sayf, one of the Arabs at
Kafurro, begged me as I valued my property and peace of mind not to
march through Unyamwezi to Ujiji, but to travel through Uhha. I
attribute these words of Sayid’s to a desire on his part to hear of my
being mulcted by kings Khanza, Iwanda, and Kiti in the same proportion
that he was. He confessed that he had paid to Kiti sixty cloths, to
Iwanda sixty cloths, and to King Khanza 138, which amounted in value to
516 dollars, and this grieved the gentle merchant’s soul greatly.
On my former journey in search of Livingstone, I tested sufficiently the
capacity of the chiefs of Uhha to absorb property, and I vowed then to
give them a wide berth for all future time. Sayid’s relation of his
experiences, confirmed by Hamed Ibrahim, and my own reverses, indicated
but too well the custom in vogue among the Wahha. So far, between
Kibogora’s capital and Ubagwé, I had only disbursed thirty cloths as
gifts to nine kings of Unyamwezi, without greater annoyance than the
trouble of having to reduce their demands by negotiation.
No traveller has yet become acquainted with a wilder race in Equatorial
Africa than are the Mafitté or Watuta. They are the only true African
Bedawi; and surely some African Ishmael must have fathered them, for
their hands are against every man, and every man’s hand appears to be
raised against them.
To slay a solitary Mtuta is considered by an Arab as meritorious, and
far more necessary, than killing a snake. To guard against these sable
freebooters, the traveller, while passing near their haunts, has need of
all his skill, coolness, and prudence. The settler in their
neighbourhood has need to defend his village with impregnable fences,
and to have look-outs night and day: his women and children require to
be guarded, and fuel can only be procured by strong parties, while the
ground has to be cultivated spear in hand, so constant is the fear of
the restless and daring tribe of bandits.
The Watuta, by whose lands we are now about to travel, are a lost tribe
of the Mafitté, and became separated from the latter by an advance
towards the north in search of plunder and cattle. This event occurred
some thirty years ago. On their incursion they encountered the Warori,
who possessed countless herds of cattle. They fought with them for two
months at one place, and three months at another; and at last,
perceiving that the Warori were too strong for them—many of them having
been slain in the war and a large number of them (now known as the
Wahehé, and settled near Ugogo) having been cut off from the main body—
the Watuta skirted Urori, and advanced north-west through Ukonongo and
Kawendi to Ujiji. It is in the memory of the old Arab residents at Ujiji
how the Watuta suddenly appeared and drove them and the Wajiji to take
refuge upon Bangwé Island.
Not glutted with conquest by their triumph at Ujiji, they attacked
Urundi; but here they met different foes altogether from the negroes
of the south. They next invaded Uhha, but the races which occupy the
intra-lake regions had competent and worthy champions in the Wahha.
Battled at Uhha and Urundi, they fought their devastating path across
Uvinza, and entered Unyamwezi, penetrated Usumbwa, Utambara, Urangwa,
Uyofu, and so through Uzinja to the Victoria Nyanza, where they rested
for some years after their daring exploit. But the lands about the lake
were not suited to their tastes, and they retraced their steps as far
as Utambara. Kututwa, king of Utambara, from policy, wooed the daughter
of the chief of the Watuta, and as a dower his land was returned to
him, while the Watuta moving south occupied the neighbouring country of
Ugomba, situate between Uhha and Unyamwezi. It is a well-watered and a
rich grazing country, therefore well adapted to their habits and modes
of life. The Kinyamwezi kings of Serombo, Ubagwé, Ureweh, Renzeweh, and
kings Mirambo and Phunze have contracted alliances with influential
chiefs, and are on tolerably good terms with them; but stubborn old
Myonga still holds aloof from the Watuta.
It will be remembered by readers of ‘How I Found Livingstone’ how
Mirambo appeared at Tabora with thousands of the Watuta free-lances,
slaughtered Khamis bin Abdullah and five other Arabs, and ravaged that
populous settlement. From the above sketch of these terrible marauders,
they will now be able to understand how it was that he was able to
obtain their aid, while the following paragraph explains how I obtained
the facts of this predatory migration.
[Illustration: ONE OF THE WATUTA.]
The wife of Wadi Safeni—one of the Wangwana captains, and coxswain of
the _Lady Alice_ during her cruise round the Victoria Nyanza—when
proceeding one day outside the stockade of Ubagwé to obtain water,
accidentally heard our Watuta visitors gossiping together. The dialect
and accent sounding familiar to her, she listened, and a few moments
afterwards she was herself volubly discussing with them the geography of
the locality inhabited by the Mafitté between Lake Nyassa and Tanganika.
It was mainly from this little circumstance—confirmed by other
informants, Arab, Wangwana, and Wanyamwezi—that the above brief sketch
of the wanderings of the Watuta has been obtained.
“Mono-Matapa,” that great African word, which, from its antiquity and
its persistent appearance on our maps—occupying various positions to
suit the vagaries of various cartographers and the hypotheses of various
learned travellers—has now become almost classic, bears a distant
relation to the tribe of the Watuta.
The industrious traveller, Salt, in his book on Abyssinia, dated 1814,
says:
“This country is commonly called Monomatapa, in the accounts of which
a perplexing obscurity has been introduced, by different authors
having confounded the names of the districts with the titles of the
sovereigns, indiscriminately styling them Quitéve, Mono-matapa,
Benemotapa, Bene-motasha, Chikanga, Manika, Bokaranga and Mokaranga.
The fact appears to be that the sovereign’s title was Quitéve, and the
name of the country Motapa, to which Mono has been prefixed, as in
Monomugi, and many other names on the coast, that beyond this lay a
district called Chikanga, which contained the mines of Manica, and
that the other names were applicable solely to petty districts at that
time under the rule of the Quitéve.”
Zimbaoa, the capital of this interesting land, was said to be fifteen
days’ travel west from Sofala, and forty days’ travel from Senâ.
Indefatigable and patient exploration by various intelligent travellers
has now enabled us to understand exactly the meaning of the various
names with which early geographers confused us. The ancient land of the
Mono-Matapa occupied that part of South-East Africa now held by the
Matabeles, and the empire embraced nearly all the various tribes and
clans now known by the popular terms of Kaffirs and Zulus.
The reputation which Chaka obtained throughout that upland, extending
from the lands of the Hottentots to the Zambezi, roused, after his
death, various ambitious spirits. His great captains, leading warlike
hosts after them, spread terror and dismay among the tribes north,
south, and west. Mosèlé-katzé overran the Transvaal, and conquered the
Bechuanas, but was subsequently compelled by the Boers to migrate north,
where his people, now known as the Matabeles, have established
themselves under Lo Bengwella, his successor.
Sebituané, another warlike spirit after the style of Chaka, put himself
at the head of a tribe of the Basutos, and, after numerous conquests
over small tribes, established his authority and people along the
Zambezi, under the name of Makololo. Sebituané was succeeded by
Sekeletu, Livingstone’s friend, and he by Impororo—the last of the
Makololo kings.
One of Chaka’s generals was called Mani-Koos. It ought to be mentioned
here that Mani, Mana, Mono, Moeni, Muini, Muinyi, are all prefixes,
synonymous with lord, prince, and sometimes son: for example,
Mana-Koos, Mani-Ema, now called Man-yema and Mana-Mputu, lord of the
sea; Mono-Matapa, Mana-Ndenga, Mana-Butti, Mana-Kirembu, Mana-Mamba,
and so forth. In Uregga the prefix becomes Wana, or Wane, as in
Wane-Mbesa, Wane-Kirumbu, Wane Kamankua, Wana-Kipangu, Wana-Mukwa,
and Wana-Rukura; while in the Bateké and the Babwendé lands it is
changed into Mwana, as Mwana-Ibaka, or Mwana-Kilungu, which title was
given to the Livingstone river by the Babwendé, meaning “lord of the
sea.” To return. This Mani-Koos, a general of Chaka’s, attacked the
Portuguese at Delagoa Bay, Sofala, and Inhambané, and compelled them
to pay tribute. The party then crossed the Zambezi river above Teté,
the capital of the Portuguese territory, and, after ravaging the lands
along the Nyassa, finally established itself north-west of the Nyassa,
between that lake and the Tanganika. To-day they are known as the
Manitu, Mafitté, or Ma-viti; and three offshoots of this tribe are—the
Watuta in the neighbourhood of Zombé, south-east end of Lake Tanganika;
the Wahehé, who cause such dire trouble to the Wagogo; and the Watuta,
the allies of Mirambo, and called by the Wanyamwezi the Mwangoni.
_May 4._—On the 4th of May, having received the milch cows, calves, and
bullocks from my new brother Mirambo, we marched in a south-south-west
direction, skirting the territory of the Watuta, to Ruwinga, a village
occupying a patch of cleared land, and ruled by a small chief who is a
tributary to his dreaded neighbours.
_May 5._—The next day, in good order, we marched across a portion of the
territory of the Watuta. No precaution was omitted to ensure our being
warned in time of the presence of the enemy, nor did we make any delay
on the road, as a knowledge of their tactics of attack assured us that
this was our only chance of avoiding a conflict with them. Msené, after
a journey of twenty miles, was reached about 2 P.M., and the king,
Mulagwa, received us with open arms.
The population of the three villages under Mulagwa probably numbers
about 3500. The king of the Watuta frequently visits Mulagwa’s district;
but his strongly fenced villages and large number of muskets have been
sufficient to check the intentions of the robbers, though atrocious acts
are often committed upon the unwary.
Maganga, the dilatory chief of one of my caravans during the first
Expedition, was discovered here, and, on the strength of a long
acquaintance with my merits, induced Mulagwa to exert himself for my
comfort.
I saw a poor woman, a victim of a raid by the Watuta, who, having been
accidentally waylaid by them in the fields, had had her left foot
barbarously cut off.
Ten miles south-west of Msené is Kawangira, a district about ten miles
square, governed by the chief Nyambu, a rival of Mulagwa. Relics of the
ruthlessness and devastating attacks of the Watuta are visible between
the two districts, and the once populous land is rapidly resuming its
original appearance of a tenantless waste.
_May 9._—The next village, Nganda, ten miles south-west from Kawangira,
was reached on the 9th of May. From this place, as far as Usenda
(distant fourteen miles south-south-west), extended a plain, inundated
with from 2 to 5 feet of water from the flooded Gombé which rises about
forty miles south-east of Unyanyembé. Where the Gombé meets with the
Malagarazi, there is a spacious plain, which during each rainy season is
converted into a lake.
We journeyed to the important village of Usagusi on the 12th, in a
south-south-west direction. Like Serombo, Myonga’s, Urangwa, Ubagwé, and
Msené, it is strongly stockaded, and the chief, conscious that the
safety of his principal village depends upon the care he bestows upon
its defences, exacts heavy fines upon those of his people who manifest
any reluctance to repair the stockade; and this vigilant prudence has
hitherto baffled the wolf-like marauders of Ugomba.
I met another old friend of mine at the next village, Ugara. He was a
visitor to my camp at Kuziri, in Ukimbu, in 1871. Ugara is seventeen
miles west-south-west. I found it troubled with a “war,” or two wars,
one between Kazavula and Uvinza, the other between Ibango of Usenyé and
Mkasiwa of Unyanyembé.
Twenty-five miles in a westerly direction, through a depopulated land,
brought us to Zegi, in Uvinza, where we found a large caravan, under an
Arab in the employ of Sayid bin Habib. Amongst these natives of Zanzibar
was a man who had accompanied Cameron and Tippu-Tib to Utotera. Like
other Münchhausens of his race, he informed me upon oath that he had
seen a ship upon a lake west of Utotera, manned by black Wazungu, or
black Europeans!
Before reaching Zegi, we saw Sivué lake, a body of water fed by the
Sagala river: it is about seven miles wide by fourteen miles long.
Through a broad bed, choked by reeds and grass and tropical plants, it
empties into the Malagarazi river near Kiala.
Zegi village also swarmed with Rusunzu’s warriors. Rusunzu has succeeded
his father, Nzogera, as king of Uvinza, and, being energetic, is
disposed to combat Mirambo’s ambitious projects of annexation. I took
care not to disclose our relationship with Mirambo, lest the warriors
might have supposed we countenanced his designs against their beloved
land.
These warriors, perceiving that the word Ruga-Ruga, or bandits,
influences weak minds, call themselves by that name, and endeavour to
distinguish themselves by arresting all native travellers suspected of
hostility or property. One of these unfortunates just captured was about
to have his weasand cut, when I suggested that he had better be sold, as
his corpse would be useless.
“You buy him, then,” said the excited fellows; “give us ten cloths for
him.”
“White men don’t buy slaves; but rather than you should murder an
innocent man, I will give you two for him.”
After considerable discussion, it was agreed that he should be
transferred to me for two cloths; but the poor old fellow was so injured
from the brutal treatment he had undergone that he died a few days
afterwards.
Zegi, swarming with a reckless number of lawless men, was not a
comfortable place to dwell in. The conduct of these men was another
curious illustration of how “small things make base men proud.” Here
were a number of youths suffering under that strange disease peculiar to
vain youth in all lands which Mirambo had called “big head.” The manner
in which they strutted about, their big looks and bold staring, their
enormous feathered head-dresses and martial stride, were most offensive.
Having adopted, from bravado, the name of Ruga-Ruga, they were compelled
in honour to imitate the bandits’ custom of smoking banghi (wild hemp),
and my memory fails to remind me of any similar experience to the wild
screaming and stormy sneezing, accompanied day and night by the
monotonous droning of the one-string guitar (another accomplishment _de
rigueur_ with the complete bandit) and the hiccuping, snorting, and
vocal extravagances which we had to bear in the village of Zegi.
_May 18._—We paid a decent tribute of fifteen cloths to Rusunzu, out of
the infamous “sixty” he had demanded through his Mutwaré or chief; and
the Mutwaré received only four out of the twenty he had said should be
paid to himself; and after the termination of the bargaining we marched
to Ugaga, on the Malagarazi, on the 18th.
_May 20._—The Mutwaré of Ugaga the next day made a claim of forty doti
or cloths before giving us permission to cross the Malagarazi. I sent
Frank with twenty men to a point three miles below Ugaga to prepare our
boat; and meanwhile we delayed negotiations until a messenger came from
Frank informing us that the boat was ready, and then after making a
tentative offer of two cloths, which was rejected with every ludicrous
expression of contempt, we gave four. The Mutwaré then said that Rusunzu
the king had commanded that we should return to Zegi to fight his
enemies, otherwise he withheld his permission to cross the river. At
this piece of despotism we smiled, and marched towards the boat, where
we camped. At 4 A.M. of the 20th of May I had eighty guns across the
mile-wide[38] Malagarazi, and by 3 P.M. the entire Expedition, and our
Arab friends whom we had met at Zegi, were in Northern Uvinza.
_May 21._—The next day, avoiding the scorched plains of Uhha, of bitter
memory to me, we journeyed to Ruwhera, eleven miles; thence to Mansumba,
due west, nine miles and a half through a thin jungle; whence we
despatched some Wanyamwezi across the frontier to Uhha to purchase corn
for the support of the Expedition in the wilderness between Uvinza and
Ujiji.
Strange to say, the Wahha, who are the most extortionate tribute-takers
in Africa, will not interfere with a caravan when once over the
frontier, but will readily sell them food. About fifty Wahha even
brought grain and fowls for sale to our camp at Mansumba. Though truth
compels me to say that we should have fared very badly had we travelled
through Uhha, I must do its people the justice to say that they are not
churlish to strangers beyond their own limits.
It is a great pity that the Malagarazi is not navigable. There is a
difference of nearly 900 feet between the altitude of Ugaga and that of
Ujiji. One series of falls are south-south-west from Ruwhera, about
twenty-five miles below Ugaga. There is another series of falls about
twenty miles from the Tanganika.
_May 24._—At noon on the 24th we camped on the western bank of the
Rusugi river. A small village, called Kasanga, is situated two miles
above the ford. Near the crossing on either side are the salt-pans of
Uvinza, which furnish a respectable revenue to its king. A square mile
of ground is strewn with broken pots, embers of fires, the refuse of the
salt, lumps of burnt clay, and ruined huts. As Rusunzu now owns all the
land to within fifteen miles of Ujiji, there is no one to war with for
the undisputed possession of the salt-pans.
Through a forest jungle separated at intervals by narrow strips of
plain, and crossing six small tributaries of the Malagarazi by the way,
we journeyed twenty-three miles, to a camp near the frontier of the
district of Uguru, or the hill country of Western Uhha.
The northern slopes of these mountain masses of Uguru, about fifteen
miles north of the sources of the Liuché, are drained by the southern
feeders of the Alexandra Nile; the western, by the Mshala; the southern
by the Liuché; and the eastern, by the Uhha tributaries of the
Malagarazi. The boundaries of Uhha, Urundi, and Ujiji meet at these
mountains, which are probably 6500 feet above the sea.
We greeted our friend of Niamtaga, whom we had met in November in 1871,
but, alas for him! two weeks later he was taken by surprise by Rusunzu,
and massacred with nearly three-fourths of his people.
_May 27._—At noon of the 27th of May the bright waters of the Tanganika
broke upon the view, and compelled me to linger admiringly for a while,
as I did on the day I first beheld them. By 3 P.M. we were in Ujiji.
Muini Kheri, Mohammed bin Gharib, Sultan bin Kassim, and Khamis the
Baluch greeted me kindly. Mohammed bin Sali was dead. Nothing was
changed much, except the ever-changing mud tembés of the Arabs. The
square or plaza where I met David Livingstone in November 1871 is now
occupied by large tembés. The house where he and I lived has long ago
been burnt down, and in its place there remain only a few embers and a
hideous void. The lake expands with the same grand beauty before the
eyes as we stand in the market-place. The opposite mountains of Goma
have the same blue-black colour, for they are everlasting, and the
Liuché river continues its course as brown as ever just east and south
of Ujiji. The surf is still as restless, and the sun as bright; the sky
retains its glorious azure, and the palms all their beauty: but the
grand old hero, whose presence once filled Ujiji with such absorbing
interest for me, was gone!
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# 38:
In the dry season the Malagarazi is only about 60 yards wide at Ugaga.
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LONDON: PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, STAMFORD STREET
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Transcriber’s Note
The hyphenation of compound words is not always consistent. When such
words appear midline, they are retained as printed. Where the
hyphenation occurs on a line break, the hyphen is either removed or
retained to agree with the preponderance of appearances elsewhere.
Other errors deemed most likely to be the printer’s have been corrected,
and are noted here. The references are to the page and line in the
original.
26.32 is very approp[r]iately termed Inserted.
56.40 to observe th[r]oughout our journey Inserted.
59.40 Living[s]tone’s discoveries Inserted.
62.24 employment to abo[n/u]t 80 adults Inverted.
70.4 D[n/u]doma[—] Transposed/Inserted.
71.14 was di[s]covered Inserted.
72.37 on every side[.] Restored.
79.26 broad and dry sandy st[r]eam-bed Inserted.
90.2 An imme[u/n]se area Inverted.
93.6 [‘/“]I have seen the lake Replaced.
114.3 chief of Kageh[y]i Inserted.
116.33 making or repa[i]ring Inserted.
117.26 the Wasuk[u]ma recruits Inserted.
164.10 the [s/f]ew days Replaced.
184.10 Safeni asked one [of] them, Supplied.
188.19 combining to mu[l]tiply the terrors Inserted.
190.27 in its veins[,/.] Replaced.
191.19 besides three others[.] Restored.
198.9 “Mohoro![”] [“]Eg sura?” Added.
233.2 “Jack[’]s Mount” Added.
233.5 [‘/“]What do you know Replaced.
270.31 at a much earl[y/ier] period Replaced.
307.44 he drinks[,] Added.
326.2 Sambu[s/z]i ordered to take me Replaced.
328.13 listen to my words[.] Added.
349.43 the cliffs of Muta Nzig[è/é]. Replaced.
350.10 to depart in peace[,/.] Replaced.
351.34 what is Stamlee going to do now[./?] Replaced.
368.7 and full of guile verily[.] Added.
426.20 seconded Saba[b/d]u Replaced.