Illness--The Honey-guide--Abundance of game--The Baenda pezi--The Batoka.
We left the river here, and proceeded up the valley which leads to the
Mburuma or Mohango pass. The nights were cold, and on the 30th of June
the thermometer was as low as 39 degrees at sunrise. We passed through a
village of twenty large huts, which Sequasha had attacked on his return
from the murder of the chief, Mpangwe. He caught the women and children
for slaves, and carried off all the food, except a huge basket of bran,
which the natives are wont to save against a time of famine. His slaves
had broken all the water-pots and the millstones for grinding meal.
The buaze-trees and bamboos are now seen on the hills; but the jujube or
zisyphus, which has evidently been introduced from India, extends no
further up the river. We had been eating this fruit, which, having
somewhat the taste of apples, the Portuguese call Macaas, all the way
from Tette; and here they were larger than usual, though immediately
beyond they ceased to be found. No mango-tree either is to be met with
beyond this point, because the Portuguese traders never established
themselves anywhere beyond Zumbo. Tsetse flies are more numerous and
troublesome than we have ever before found them. They accompany us on
the march, often buzzing round our heads like a swarm of bees. They are
very cunning, and when intending to bite, alight so gently that their
presence is not perceived till they thrust in their lance-like proboscis.
The bite is acute, but the pain is over in a moment; it is followed by a
little of the disagreeable itching of the mosquito's bite. This fly
invariably kills all domestic animals except goats and donkeys; man and
the wild animals escape. We ourselves were severely bitten on this pass,
and so were our donkeys, but neither suffered from any after effects.
Water is scarce in the Mburuma pass, except during the rainy season. We
however halted beside some fine springs in the bed of the now dry
rivulet, Podebode, which is continued down to the end of the pass, and
yields water at intervals in pools. Here we remained a couple of days in
consequence of the severe illness of Dr. Kirk. He had several times been
attacked by fever; and observed that when we were on the cool heights he
was comfortable, but when we happened to descend from a high to a lower
altitude, he felt chilly, though the temperature in the latter case was
25 degrees higher than it was above; he had been trying different
medicines of reputed efficacy with a view to ascertain whether other
combinations might not be superior to the preparation we generally used;
in halting by this water he suddenly became blind, and unable to stand
from faintness. The men, with great alacrity, prepared a grassy bed, on
which we laid our companion, with the sad forebodings which only those
who have tended the sick in a wild country can realize. We feared that
in experimenting he had over-drugged himself; but we gave him a dose of
our fever pills; on the third day he rode the one of the two donkeys that
would allow itself to be mounted, and on the sixth he marched as well as
any of us. This case is mentioned in order to illustrate what we have
often observed, that moving the patient from place to place is most
conducive to the cure; and the more pluck a man has--the less he gives in
to the disease--the less likely he is to die.
Supplied with water by the pools in the Podebode, we again joined the
Zambesi at the confluence of the rivulet. When passing through a dry
district the native hunter knows where to expect water by the animals he
sees. The presence of the gemsbuck, duiker or diver, springbucks, or
elephants, is no proof that water is near; for these animals roam over
vast tracts of country, and may be met scores of miles from it. Not so,
however, the zebra, pallah, buffalo, and rhinoceros; their spoor gives
assurance that water is not far off, as they never stray any distance
from its neighbourhood. But when amidst the solemn stillness of the
woods, the singing of joyous birds falls upon the ear, it is certain that
water is close at hand.
Our men in hunting came on an immense herd of buffaloes, quietly resting
in the long dry grass, and began to blaze away furiously at the
astonished animals. In the wild excitement of the hunt, which heretofore
had been conducted with spears, some forgot to load with ball, and,
firing away vigorously with powder only, wondered for the moment that the
buffaloes did not fall. The slayer of the young elephant, having buried
his four bullets in as many buffaloes, fired three charges of No. 1 shot
he had for killing guinea-fowl. The quaint remarks and merriment after
these little adventures seemed to the listener like the pleasant prattle
of children. Mbia and Mantlanyane, however, killed one buffalo each;
both the beasts were in prime condition; the meat was like really
excellent beef, with a smack of venison. A troop of hungry, howling
hyenas also thought the savour tempting, as they hung round the camp at
night, anxious to partake of the feast. They are, fortunately, arrant
cowards, and never attack either men or beasts except they can catch them
asleep, sick, or at some other disadvantage. With a bright fire at our
feet their presence excites no uneasiness. A piece of meat hung on a
tree, high enough to make him jump to reach it, and a short spear, with
its handle firmly planted in the ground beneath, are used as a device to
induce the hyena to commit suicide by impalement.
The honey-guide is an extraordinary bird; how is it that every member of
its family has learned that all men, white or black, are fond of honey?
The instant the little fellow gets a glimpse of a man, he hastens to
greet him with the hearty invitation to come, as Mbia translated it, to a
bees' hive, and take some honey. He flies on in the proper direction,
perches on a tree, and looks back to see if you are following; then on to
another and another, until he guides you to the spot. If you do not
accept his first invitation he follows you with pressing importunities,
quite as anxious to lure the stranger to the bees' hive as other birds
are to draw him away from their own nest. Except while on the march, our
men were sure to accept the invitation, and manifested the same by a
peculiar responsive whistle, meaning, as they said, "All right, go ahead;
we are coming." The bird never deceived them, but always guided them to
a hive of bees, though some had but little honey in store. Has this
peculiar habit of the honey-guide its origin, as the attachment of dogs,
in friendship for man, or in love for the sweet pickings of the plunder
left on the ground? Self-interest aiding in preservation from danger
seems to be the rule in most cases, as, for instance, in the bird that
guards the buffalo and rhinoceros. The grass is often so tall and dense
that one could go close up to these animals quite unperceived; but the
guardian bird, sitting on the beast, sees the approach of danger, flaps
its wings and screams, which causes its bulky charge to rush off from a
foe he has neither seen nor heard; for his reward the vigilant little
watcher has the pick of the parasites on his fat friend. In other cases
a chance of escape must be given even by the animal itself to its prey;
as in the rattle-snake, which, when excited to strike, cannot avoid using
his rattle, any more than the cat can resist curling its tail when
excited in the chase of a mouse, or the cobra can refrain from inflating
the loose skin of the neck and extending it laterally, before striking
its poison fangs into its victim. There are many snakes in parts of this
pass; they basked in the warm sunshine, but rustled off through the
leaves as we approached. We observed one morning a small one of a deadly
poisonous species, named Kakone, on a bush by the wayside, quietly
resting in a horizontal position, digesting a lizard for breakfast.
Though openly in view, its colours and curves so closely resembled a
small branch that some failed to see it, even after being asked if they
perceived anything on the bush. Here also one of our number had a glance
at another species, rarely seen, and whose swift lightning-like motion
has given rise to the native proverb, that when a man sees this snake he
will forthwith become a rich man.
We slept near the ruined village of the murdered chief, Mpangwe, a lovely
spot, with the Zambesi in front, and extensive gardens behind, backed by
a semicircle of hills receding up to lofty mountains. Our path kept
these mountains on our right, and crossed several streamlets, which
seemed to be perennial, and among others the Selole, which apparently
flows past the prominent peak Chiarapela. These rivulets have often
human dwellings on their banks; but the land can scarcely be said to be
occupied. The number of all sorts of game increases wonderfully every
day. As a specimen of what may be met with where there are no human
habitations, and where no firearms have been introduced, we may mention
what at times has actually been seen by us. On the morning of July 3rd a
herd of elephants passed within fifty yards of our sleeping-place, going
down to the river along the dry bed of a rivulet. Starting a few minutes
before the main body, we come upon large flocks of guinea-fowl, shoot
what may be wanted for dinner, or next morning's breakfast, and leave
them in the path to be picked up by the cook and his mates behind. As we
proceed, francolins of three varieties run across the path, and hundreds
of turtle-doves rise, with great blatter of wing, and fly off to the
trees. Guinea-fowls, francolins, turtle-doves, ducks, and geese are the
game birds of this region. At sunrise a herd of pallahs, standing like a
flock of sheep, allow the first man of our long Indian file to approach
within about fifty yards; but having meat, we let them trot off leisurely
and unmolested. Soon afterwards we come upon a herd of waterbucks, which
here are very much darker in colour, and drier in flesh, than the same
species near the sea. They look at us and we at them; and we pass on to
see a herd of doe koodoos, with a magnificently horned buck or two,
hurrying off to the dry hill-sides. We have ceased shooting antelopes,
as our men have been so often gorged with meat that they have become fat
and dainty. They say that they do not want more venison, it is so dry
and tasteless, and ask why we do not give them shot to shoot the more
savoury guinea-fowl.
About eight o'clock the tsetse commence to buzz about us, and bite our
hands and necks sharply. Just as we are thinking of breakfast, we meet
some buffaloes grazing by the path; but they make off in a heavy gallop
at the sight of man. We fire, and the foremost, badly wounded, separates
from the herd, and is seen to stop amongst the trees; but, as it is a
matter of great danger to follow a wounded buffalo, we hold on our way.
It is this losing of wounded animals which makes firearms so annihilating
to these beasts of the field, and will in time sweep them all away. The
small Enfield bullet is worse than the old round one for this. It often
goes through an animal without killing him, and he afterwards perishes,
when he is of no value to man. After breakfast we draw near a pond of
water; a couple of elephants stand on its bank, and, at a respectful
distance behind these monarchs of the wilderness, is seen a herd of
zebras, and another of waterbucks. On getting our wind the royal beasts
make off at once; but the zebras remain till the foremost man is within
eighty yards of them, when old and young canter gracefully away. The
zebra has a great deal of curiosity; and this is often fatal to him, for
he has the habit of stopping to look at the hunter. In this particular
he is the exact opposite of the diver antelope, which rushes off like the
wind, and never for a moment stops to look behind, after having once seen
or smelt danger. The finest zebra of the herd is sometimes shot, our men
having taken a sudden fancy to the flesh, which all declare to be the
"king of good meat." On the plains of short grass between us and the
river many antelopes of different species are calmly grazing, or
reposing. Wild pigs are common, and walk abroad during the day; but are
so shy as seldom to allow a close approach. On taking alarm they erect
their slender tails in the air, and trot off swiftly in a straight line,
keeping their bodies as steady as a locomotive on a railroad. A mile
beyond the pool three cow buffaloes with their calves come from the
woods, and move out into the plain. A troop of monkeys, on the edge of
the forest, scamper back to its depths on hearing the loud song of
Singeleka, and old surly fellows, catching sight of the human party,
insult it with a loud and angry bark. Early in the afternoon we may see
buffaloes again, or other animals. We camp on the dry higher ground,
after, as has happened, driving off a solitary elephant. The nights are
warmer now, and possess nearly as much of interest and novelty as the
days. A new world awakes and comes forth, more numerous, if we may judge
by the noise it makes, than that which is abroad by sunlight. Lions and
hyenas roar around us, and sometimes come disagreeably near, though they
have never ventured into our midst. Strange birds sing their agreeable
songs, while others scream and call harshly as if in fear or anger.
Marvellous insect-sounds fall upon the ear; one, said by natives to
proceed from a large beetle, resembles a succession of measured musical
blows upon an anvil, while many others are perfectly indescribable. A
little lemur was once seen to leap about from branch to branch with the
agility of a frog; it chirruped like a bird, and is not larger than a
robin red-breast. Reptiles, though numerous, seldom troubled us; only
two men suffered from stings, and that very slightly, during the entire
journey, the one supposed that he was bitten by a snake, and the other
was stung by a scorpion.
Grass-burning has begun, and is producing the blue hazy atmosphere of the
American Indian summer, which in Western Africa is called the "smokes."
Miles of fire burn on the mountain-sides in the evenings, but go out
during the night. From their height they resemble a broad zigzag line of
fire in the heavens.
We slept on the night of the 6th of July on the left bank of the Chongwe,
which comes through a gap in the hills on our right, and is twenty yards
wide. A small tribe of the Bazizulu, from the south, under Dadanga, have
recently settled here and built a village. Some of their houses are
square, and they seem to be on friendly terms with the Bakoa, who own the
country. They, like the other natives, cultivate cotton, but of a
different species from any we have yet seen in Africa, the staple being
very long, and the boll larger than what is usually met with; the seeds
cohere as in the Pernambuco kind. They brought the seed with them from
their own country, the distant mountains of which in the south, still
inhabited by their fellow-countrymen, who possess much cattle and use
shields, can be seen from this high ground. These people profess to be
children of the great paramount chief, Kwanyakarombe, who is said to be
lord of all the Bazizulu. The name of this tribe is known to
geographers, who derive their information from the Portuguese, as the
_Morusurus_, and the hills mentioned above are said to have been the
country of Changamira, the warrior-chief of history, whom no Portuguese
ever dared to approach. The Bazizulu seem, by report, to be brave
mountaineers; nearer the river, the Sidima inhabit the plains; just as on
the north side, the Babimpe live on the heights, about two days off, and
the Makoa on or near the river. The chief of the Bazizulu we were now
with was hospitable and friendly. A herd of buffaloes came trampling
through the gardens and roused up our men; a feat that roaring lions
seldom achieved.
Our course next day passed over the upper terrace and through a dense
thorn jungle. Travelling is always difficult where there is no path, but
it is even more perplexing where the forest is cut up by many
game-tracks. Here we got separated from one another, and a rhinoceros
with angry snort dashed at Dr. Livingstone as he stooped to pick up a
specimen of the wild fruit morula; but she strangely stopped stock-still
when less than her own length distant, and gave him time to escape; a
branch pulled out his watch as he ran, and turning half round to grasp
it, he got a distant glance of her and her calf still standing on the
selfsame spot, as if arrested in the middle of her charge by an unseen
hand. When about fifty yards off, thinking his companions close behind,
he shouted "Look out there!" when off she rushed, snorting loudly, in
another direction. The Doctor usually went unarmed before this, but
never afterwards.
A fine eland was shot by Dr. Kirk this afternoon, the first we have
killed. It was in first-rate condition, and remarkably fat; but the
meat, though so tempting in appearance, severely deranged all who partook
of it heartily, especially those who ate of the fat. Natives who live in
game countries, and are acquainted with the different kinds of wild
animals, have a prejudice against the fat of the eland, the pallah, the
zebra, hippopotamus, and pig; they never reject it, however, the climate
making the desire for all animal food very strong; but they consider that
it causes ulcers and leprosy, while the fat of sheep and of oxen never
produces any bad effects, unless the animal is diseased.
On the morning of the 9th, after passing four villages, we breakfasted at
an old friend's, Tombanyama, who lives now on the mainland, having
resigned the reedy island, where he was first seen, to the buffaloes,
which used to take his crops and show fight to his men. He keeps a large
flock of tame pigeons, and some fine fat capons, one of which he gave us,
with a basket of meal. They have plenty of salt in this part of the
country, obtaining it from the plains in the usual way.
The half-caste partner of Sequasha and a number of his men were staying
near. The fellow was very munch frightened when he saw us, and trembled
so much when he spoke, that the Makololo and other natives noticed and
remarked on it. His fears arose from a sense of guilt, as we said
nothing to frighten him, and did not allude to the murder till a few
minutes before starting; when it was remarked that Dr. Livingstone having
been accredited to the murdered chief, it would be his duty to report on
it; and that not even the Portuguese Government would approve of the
deed. He defended it by saying that they had put in the right man, the
other was a usurper. He was evidently greatly relieved when we departed.
In the afternoon we came to an outlying hamlet of Kambadzo, whose own
village is on an island, Nyampungo, or Nyangalule, at the confluence of
the Kafue. The chief was on a visit here, and they had been enjoying a
regular jollification. There had been much mirth, music, drinking, and
dancing. The men, and women too, had taken "a wee drap too much," but
had not passed the complimentary stage. The wife of the headman, after
looking at us a few moments, called out to the others, "Black traders
have come before, calling themselves Bazungu, or white men, but now, for
the first time, have we seen the real Bazungu." Kambadzo also soon
appeared; he was sorry that we had not come before the beer was all done,
but he was going back to see if it was all really and entirely finished,
and not one little potful left somewhere.
This was, of course, mere characteristic politeness, as he was perfectly
aware that every drop had been swallowed; so we proceeded on to the
Kafue, or Kafuje, accompanied by the most intelligent of his headmen. A
high ridge, just before we reached the confluence, commands a splendid
view of the two great rivers, and the rich country beyond. Behind, on
the north and east, is the high mountain-range, along whose base we have
been travelling; the whole range is covered with trees, which appear even
on the prominent peaks, Chiarapela, Morindi, and Chiava; at this last the
chain bends away to the N.W., and we could see the distant mountains
where the chief, Semalembue, gained all our hearts in 1856.
On the 9th of July we tried to send Semalembue a present, but the people
here refused to incur the responsibility of carrying it. We, who have
the art of writing, cannot realize the danger one incurs of being accused
of purloining a portion of goods sent from one person to another, when
the carrier cannot prove that he delivered all committed to his charge.
Rumours of a foray having been made, either by Makololo or Batoka, as far
as the fork of the Kafue, were received here by our men with great
indignation, as it looked as if the marauders were shutting up the
country, which they had been trying so much to open. Below the junction
of the rivers, on a shallow sandbank, lay a large herd of hippopotami,
their bodies out of the water, like masses of black rock. Kambadzo's
island, called Nyangalule, a name which occurs again at the mouth of the
Zambesi, has many choice Motsikiri (_Trachelia_) trees on it; and four
very conspicuous stately palms growing out of a single stem. The Kafue
reminds us a little of the Shire, flowing between steep banks, with
fertile land on both sides. It is a smaller river, and has less current.
Here it seems to come from the west. The headman of the village, near
which we encamped, brought a present of meal, fowls, and sweet potatoes.
They have both the red and white varieties of this potato. We have, on
several occasions during this journey, felt the want of vegetables, in a
disagreeable craving which our diet of meat and native meal could not
satisfy. It became worse and worse till we got a meal of potatoes, which
allayed it at once. A great scarcity of vegetables prevails in these
parts of Africa. The natives collect several kinds of wild plants in the
woods, which they use no doubt for the purpose of driving off cravings
similar to those we experienced.
Owing to the strength of the wind, and the cranky state of the canoes, it
was late in the afternoon of the 11th before our party was ferried over
the Kafue. After crossing, we were in the Bawe country. Fishhooks here,
of native workmanship, were observed to have barbs like the European
hooks: elsewhere the point of the hook is merely bent in towards the
shank, to have the same effect in keeping on the fish as the barb. We
slept near a village a short distance above the ford. The people here
are of Batoka origin, the same as many of our men, and call themselves
Batonga (independents), or Balengi, and their language only differs
slightly from that of the Bakoa, who live between the two rivers Kafue
and Loangwa. The paramount chief of the district lives to the west of
this place, and is called Nchomokela--an hereditary title: the family
burying-place is on a small hill near this village. The women salute us
by clapping their hands and lullilooing as we enter and leave a village,
and the men, as they think, respectfully clap their hands on their hips.
Immense crops of mapira (_holcus sorghum_) are raised; one species of it
forms a natural bend on the seed-stalk, so that the massive ear hangs
down. The grain was heaped up on wooden stages, and so was a variety of
other products. The men are skilful hunters, and kill elephants and
buffaloes with long heavy spears. We halted a few minutes on the morning
of the 12th July, opposite the narrow island of Sikakoa, which has a
village on its lower end. We were here told that Moselekatse's chief
town is a month's distance from this place. They had heard, moreover,
that the English had come to Moselekatse, and told him it was wrong to
kill men; and he had replied that he was born to kill people, but would
drop the habit; and, since the English came, he had sent out his men, not
to kill as of yore, but to collect tribute of cloth and ivory. This
report referred to the arrival of the Rev. R. Moffat, of Kuruman, who, we
afterwards found, had established a mission. The statement is
interesting as showing that, though imperfectly expressed, the purport of
the missionaries' teaching had travelled, in a short time, over 300
miles, and we know not how far the knowledge of the English operations on
the coast spread inland.
When abreast of the high wooded island Kalabi we came in contact with one
of the game-laws of the country, which has come down from the most
ancient times. An old buffalo crossed the path a few yards in front of
us; our guide threw his small spear at its hip, and it was going off
scarcely hurt, when three rifle balls knocked it over. "It is mine,"
said the guide. He had wounded it first, and the established native game-
law is that the animal belongs to the man who first draws blood; the two
legs on one side, by the same law, belonged to us for killing it. This
beast was very old, blind of one eye, and scabby; the horns, mere stumps,
not a foot long, must have atrophied, when by age he lost the strength
distinctive of his sex; some eighteen or twenty inches of horn could not
well be worn down by mere rubbing against the trees. We saw many
buffaloes next day, standing quietly amidst a thick thorn-jungle, through
which we were passing. They often stood until we were within fifty or a
hundred yards of them.
On the 14th July we left the river at the mountain-range, which, lying
north-east and south-west across the river, forms the Kariba gorge. Near
the upper end of the Kariba rapids, the stream Sanyati enters from the
south, and is reported to have Moselekatse's principal cattle-posts at
its sources; our route went round the end of the mountains, and we
encamped beside the village of the generous chief Moloi, who brought us
three immense baskets of fine mapira meal, ten fowls, and two pots of
beer. On receiving a present in return, he rose, and, with a few dancing
gestures, said or sang, "Motota, Motota, Motota," which our men
translated into "thanks." He had visited Moselekatse a few months before
our arrival, and saw the English missionaries, living in their wagons.
"They told Moselekatse," said he, "they were of his family, or friends,
and would plough the land and live at their own expense;" and he had
replied, "The land is before you, and I shall come and see you plough."
This again was substantially what took place, when Mr. Moffat introduced
the missionaries to his old friend, and shows still further that the
notion of losing their country by admitting foreigners does not come as
the first idea to the native mind. One might imagine that, as mechanical
powers are unknown to the heathen, the almost magic operations of
machinery, the discoveries of modern science and art, or the presence of
the prodigious force which, for instance, is associated with the sight of
a man-of-war, would have the effect which miracles once had of arresting
the attention and inspiring awe. But, though we have heard the natives
exclaim in admiration at the sight of even small illustrations of what
science enables us to do--"Ye are gods, and not men"--the heart is
unaffected. In attempting their moral elevation, it is always more
conducive to the end desired, that the teacher should come unaccompanied
by any power to cause either jealousy or fear. The heathen, who have not
become aware of the greed and hate which too often characterize the
advancing tide of emigration, listen with most attention to the message
of Divine love when delivered by men who evidently possess the same human
sympathies with themselves. A chief is rather envied his good fortune in
first securing foreigners in his town. Jealousy of strangers belongs
more to the Arab than to the African character; and if the women are let
alone by the traveller, no danger need be apprehended from any save the
slave-trading tribes, and not often even from them.
We passed through a fertile country, covered with open forest,
accompanied by the friendly Bawe. They are very hospitable; many of them
were named, among themselves, "the Baenda pezi," or "Go-nakeds," their
only clothing being a coat of red ochre. Occasionally stopping at their
villages we were duly lullilooed, and regaled with sweet new-made beer,
which, being yet unfermented, was not intoxicating. It is in this state
called Liting or Makonde. Some of the men carry large shields of buffalo-
hide, and all are well supplied with heavy spears. The vicinity of the
villages is usually cleared and cultivated in large patches; but nowhere
can the country be said to be stocked with people. At every village
stands were erected, and piles of the native corn, still unthrashed,
placed upon them; some had been beaten out, put into oblong parcels made
of grass, and stacked in wooden frames.
We crossed several rivulets in our course, as the Mandora, the Lofia, the
Manzaia (with brackish water), the Rimbe, the Chibue, the Chezia, the
Chilola (containing fragments of coal), which did little more than mark
our progress. The island and rapid of Nakansalo, of which we had
formerly heard, were of no importance, the rapid being but half a mile
long, and only on one side of the island. The island Kaluzi marks one of
the numerous places where astronomical observations were made; Mozia, a
station where a volunteer poet left us; the island Mochenya, and Mpande
island, at the mouth of the Zungwe rivulet, where we left the Zambesi.
When favoured with the hospitality and company of the "Go-nakeds," we
tried to discover if nudity were the badge of a particular order among
the Bawe, but they could only refer to custom. Some among them had
always liked it for no reason in particular: shame seemed to lie dormant,
and the sense could not be aroused by our laughing and joking them on
their appearance. They evidently felt no less decent than we did with
our clothes on; but, whatever may be said in favour of nude statues, it
struck us that man, in a state of nature, is a most ungainly animal.
Could we see a number of the degraded of our own lower classes in like
guise, it is probable that, without the black colour which acts somehow
as a dress, they would look worse still.
In domestic contentions the Bawe are careful not to kill each other; but,
when one village goes to war with another, they are not so particular.
The victorious party are said to quarter one of the bodies of the enemies
they may have killed, and to perform certain ceremonies over the
fragments. The vanquished call upon their conquerors to give them a
portion also; and, when this request is complied with, they too perform
the same ceremonies, and lament over their dead comrade, after which the
late combatants may visit each other in peace. Sometimes the head of the
slain is taken and buried in an ant-hill, till all the flesh is gone; and
the lower jaw is then worn as a trophy by the slayer; but this we never
saw, and the foregoing information was obtained only through an
interpreter.
We left the Zambesi at the mouth of the Zungwe or Mozama or Dela rivulet,
up which we proceeded, first in a westerly and then in a north-westerly
direction. The Zungwe at this time had no water in its sandy channel for
the first eight or ten miles. Willows, however, grow on the banks, and
water soon began to appear in the hollows; and a few miles further up it
was a fine flowing stream deliciously cold. As in many other streams
from Chicova to near Sinamane shale and coal crop out in the bank; and
here the large roots of stigmaria or its allied plants were found. We
followed the course of the Zungwe to the foot of the Batoka highlands, up
whose steep and rugged sides of red and white quartz we climbed till we
attained an altitude of upwards of 3000 feet. Here, on the cool and
bracing heights, the exhilaration of mind and body was delightful, as we
looked back at the hollow beneath covered with a hot sultry glare, not
unpleasant now that we were in the mild radiance above. We had a noble
view of the great valley in which the Zambesi flows. The cultivated
portions are so small in comparison to the rest of the landscape that the
valley appears nearly all forest, with a few grassy glades. We spent the
night of the 28th July high above the level of the sea, by the rivulet
Tyotyo, near Tabacheu or Chirebuechina, names both signifying white
mountain; in the morning hoar frost covered the ground, and thin ice was
on the pools. Skirting the southern flank of Tabacheu, we soon passed
from the hills on to the portion of the vast table-land called Mataba,
and looking back saw all the way across the Zambesi valley to the lofty
ridge some thirty miles off, which, coming from the Mashona, a country in
the S.E., runs to the N.W. to join the ridge at the angle of which are
the Victoria Falls, and then bends far to the N.E. from the same point.
Only a few years since these extensive highlands were peopled by the
Batoka; numerous herds of cattle furnished abundance of milk, and the
rich soil amply repaid the labour of the husbandman; now large herds of
buffaloes, zebras, and antelopes fatten on the excellent pasture; and on
that land, which formerly supported multitudes, not a man is to been
seen. In travelling from Monday morning till late on Saturday afternoon,
all the way from Tabacheu to Moachemba, which is only twenty-one miles of
latitude from the Victoria Falls, and constantly passing the ruined sites
of utterly deserted Botoka villages, we did not fall in with a single
person. The Batoka were driven out of their noble country by the
invasions of Moselekatse and Sebetuane. Several tribes of Bechuana and
Basutu, fleeing from the Zulu or Matebele chief Moselekatse reached the
Zambesi above the Falls. Coming from a land without rivers, none of them
knew how to swim; and one tribe, called the Bamangwato, wishing to cross
the Zambesi, was ferried over, men and women separately, to different
islands, by one of the Batoka chiefs; the men were then left to starve
and the women appropriated by the ferryman and his people. Sekomi, the
present chief of the Bamangwato, then an infant in his mother's arms, was
enabled, through the kindness of a private Batoka, to escape. This act
seems to have made an indelible impression on Sekomi's heart, for though
otherwise callous, he still never fails to inquire after the welfare of
his benefactor.
Sebetuane, with his wonted ability, outwitted the treacherous Batoka, by
insisting in the politest manner on their chief remaining at his own side
until the people and cattle were all carried safe across; the chief was
then handsomely rewarded, both with cattle and brass rings off
Sebetuane's own wives. No sooner were the Makololo, then called Basuto,
safely over, than they were confronted by the whole Batoka nation; and to
this day the Makololo point with pride to the spot on the Lekone, near to
which they were encamped, where Sebetuane, with a mere handful of
warriors in comparison to the vast horde that surrounded him, stood
waiting the onslaught, the warriors in one small body, the women and
children guarding the cattle behind them. The Batoka, of course, melted
away before those who had been made veterans by years of continual
fighting, and Sebetuane always justified his subsequent conquests in that
country by alleging that the Batoka had come out to fight with a man
fleeing for his life, who had never done them any wrong. They seem never
to have been a warlike race; passing through their country, we once
observed a large stone cairn, and our guide favoured us with the
following account of it:--"Once upon a time, our forefathers were going
to fight another tribe, and here they halted and sat down. After a long
consultation, they came to the unanimous conclusion that, instead of
proceeding to fight and kill their neighbours, and perhaps be killed
themselves, it would be more like men to raise this heap of stones, as
their protest against the wrong the other tribe had done them, which,
having accomplished, they returned quietly home." Such men of peace
could not stand before the Makololo, nor, of course, the more warlike
Matebele, who coming afterwards, drove even their conquerors, the
Makololo, out of the country. Sebetuane, however, profiting by the
tactics which he had learned of the Batoka, inveigled a large body of
this new enemy on to another island, and after due starvation there
overcame the whole. A much greater army of "Moselekatse's own" followed
with canoes, but were now baffled by Sebetuane's placing all his people
and cattle on an island and so guarding it that none could approach.
Dispirited, famished, borne down by fever, they returned to the Falls,
and all except five were cut off.
But though the Batoka appear never to have had much inclination to fight
with men, they are decidedly brave hunters of buffaloes and elephants.
They go fearlessly close up to these formidable animals, and kill them
with large spears. The Banyai, who have long bullied all Portuguese
traders, were amazed at the daring and bravery of the Batoka in coming at
once to close quarters with the elephant; and Chisaka, a Portuguese
rebel, having formerly induced a body of this tribe to settle with him,
ravaged all the Portuguese villas around Tette. They bear the name of
Basimilongwe, and some of our men found relations among them. Sininyane
and Matenga also, two of our party, were once inveigled into a Portuguese
expedition against Mariano, by the assertion that the Doctor had arrived
and had sent for them to come down to Senna. On finding that they were
entrapped to fight, they left, after seeing an officer with a large
number of Tette slaves killed.
The Batoka had attained somewhat civilized ideas, in planting and
protecting various fruit and oil-seed yielding trees of the country. No
other tribe either plants or abstains from cutting down fruit trees, but
here we saw some which had been planted in regular rows, and the trunks
of which were quite two feet in diameter. The grand old Mosibe, a tree
yielding a bean with a thin red pellicle, said to be very fattening, had
probably seen two hundred summers. Dr. Kirk found that the Mosibe is
peculiar, in being allied to a species met with only in the West Indies.
The Motsikiri, sometimes called Mafuta, yields a hard fat, and an oil
which is exported from Inhambane. It is said that two ancient Batoka
travellers went down as far as the Loangwa, and finding the Macaa tree
(_jujube_ or _zisyphus_) in fruit, carried the seed all the way back to
the great Falls, in order to plant them. Two of these trees are still to
be seen there, the only specimens of the kind in that region.
The Batoka had made a near approach to the custom of more refined nations
and had permanent graveyards, either on the sides of hills, thus rendered
sacred, or under large old shady trees; they reverence the tombs of their
ancestors, and plant the largest elephants' tusks, as monuments at the
head of the grave, or entirely enclose it with the choicest ivory. Some
of the other tribes throw the dead body into the river to be devoured by
crocodiles, or, sewing it up in a mat, place it on the branch of a
baobab, or cast it in some lonely gloomy spot, surrounded by dense
tropical vegetation, where it affords a meal to the foul hyenas; but the
Batoka reverently bury their dead, and regard the spot henceforth as
sacred. The ordeal by the poison of the muave is resorted to by the
Batoka, as well as by the other tribes; but a cock is often made to stand
proxy for the supposed witch. Near the confluence of the Kafue the
Mambo, or chief, with some of his headmen, came to our sleeping-place
with a present; their foreheads were smeared with white flour, and an
unusual seriousness marked their demeanour. Shortly before our arrival
they had been accused of witchcraft; conscious of innocence, they
accepted the ordeal, and undertook to drink the poisoned muave. For this
purpose they made a journey to the sacred hill of Nchomokela, on which
repose the bodies of their ancestors; and, after a solemn appeal to the
unseen spirits to attest the innocence of their children, they swallowed
the muave, vomited, and were therefore declared not guilty. It is
evident that they believe that the soul has a continued existence; and
that the spirits of the departed know what those they have left behind
them are doing, and are pleased or not according as their deeds are good
or evil; this belief is universal. The owner of a large canoe refused to
sell it, because it belonged to the spirit of his father, who helped him
when he killed the hippopotamus. Another, when the bargain for his canoe
was nearly completed, seeing a large serpent on a branch of the tree
overhead, refused to complete the sale, alleging that this was the spirit
of his father come to protest against it.
Some of the Batoka chiefs must have been men of considerable enterprise;
the land of one, in the western part of this country, was protected by
the Zambesi on the S., and on the N. and E. lay an impassable reedy
marsh, filled with water all the year round, leaving only his western
border open to invasion: he conceived the idea of digging a broad and
deep canal nearly a mile in length, from the reedy marsh to the Zambesi,
and, having actually carried the scheme into execution, he formed a large
island, on which his cattle grazed in safety, and his corn ripened from
year to year secure from all marauders.
Another chief, who died a number of years ago, believed that he had
discovered a remedy for tsetse-bitten cattle; his son Moyara showed us a
plant, which was new to our botanist, and likewise told us how the
medicine was prepared; the bark of the root, and, what might please our
homoeopathic friends, a dozen of the tsetse are dried, and ground
together into a fine powder. This mixture is administered internally;
and the cattle are fumigated by burning under them the rest of the plant
collected. The treatment must be continued for weeks, whenever the
symptoms of poison appear. This medicine, he frankly admitted, would not
cure all the bitten cattle. "For," said he, "cattle, and men too, die in
spite of medicine; but should a herd by accident stray into a tsetse
district and be bitten, by this medicine of my father, Kampa-kampa, some
of them could be saved, while, without it, all would inevitably die." He
stipulated that we were not to show the medicine to other people, and if
ever we needed it in this region we must employ him; but if we were far
off we might make it ourselves; and when we saw it cure the cattle think
of him, and send him a present.
Our men made it known everywhere that we wished the tribes to live in
peace, and would use our influence to induce Sekeletu to prevent the
Batoka of Moshobotwane and the Makololo under-chiefs making forays into
their country: they had already suffered severely, and their
remonstrances with their countryman, Moshobotwane, evoked only the
answer, "The Makololo have given me a spear; why should I not use it?"
He, indeed, it was who, being remarkably swift of foot, first guided the
Makololo in their conquest of the country. In the character of
peacemakers, therefore, we experienced abundant hospitality; and, from
the Kafue to the Falls, none of our party was allowed to suffer hunger.
The natives sent to our sleeping-places generous presents of the finest
white meal, and fat capons to give it a relish, great pots of beer to
comfort our hearts, together with pumpkins, beans, and tobacco, so that
we "should sleep neither hungry nor thirsty."
In travelling from the Kafue to the Zungwe we frequently passed several
villages in the course of a day's march. In the evening came deputies
from the villages, at which we could not stay to sleep, with liberal
presents of food. It would have pained them to have allowed strangers to
pass without partaking of their hospitality; repeatedly were we hailed
from huts, and asked to wait a moment and drink a little of the beer,
which was brought with alacrity. Our march resembled a triumphant
procession. We entered and left every village amidst the cheers of its
inhabitants; the men clapping their hands, and the women lullilooing,
with the shrill call, "Let us sleep," or "Peace." Passing through a
hamlet one day, our guide called to the people, "Why do you not clap your
hands and salute when you see men who are wishing to bring peace to the
land?" When we halted for the night it was no uncommon thing for the
people to prepare our camp entirely of their own accord; some with hoes
quickly smoothed the ground for our beds, others brought dried grass and
spread it carefully over the spot; some with their small axes speedily
made a bush fence to shield us from the wind; and if, as occasionally
happened, the water was a little distance off, others hastened and
brought it with firewood to cook our food with. They are an industrious
people, and very fond of agriculture. For hours together we marched
through unbroken fields of mapira, or native corn, of a great width; but
one can give no idea of the extent of land under the hoe as compared with
any European country. The extent of surface is so great that the largest
fields under culture, when viewed on a wide landscape, dwindle to mere
spots. When taken in connection with the wants of the people, the
cultivation on the whole is most creditable to their industry. They
erect numerous granaries which give their villages the appearance of
being large; and, when the water of the Zambesi has subsided, they place
large quantities of grain, tied up in bundles of grass, and well
plastered over with clay, on low sand islands for protection from the
attacks of marauding mice and men. Owing to the ravages of the weevil,
the native corn can hardly be preserved until the following crop comes
in. However largely they may cultivate, and however abundant the
harvest, it must all be consumed in a year. This may account for their
making so much of it into beer. The beer these Batoka or Bawe brew is
not the sour and intoxicating boala or pombe found among some other
tribes, but sweet, and highly nutritive, with only a slight degree of
acidity, sufficient to render it a pleasant drink. The people were all
plump, and in good condition; and we never saw a single case of
intoxication among them, though all drank abundance of this liting, or
sweet beer. Both men and boys were eager to work for very small pay. Our
men could hire any number of them to carry their burdens for a few beads
a day. Our miserly and dirty ex-cook had an old pair of trousers that
some one had given to him; after he had long worn them himself, with one
of the sorely decayed legs he hired a man to carry his heavy load a whole
day; a second man carried it the next day for the other leg, and what
remained of the old garment, without the buttons, procured the labour of
another man for the third day.
Men of remarkable ability have risen up among the Africans from time to
time, as amongst other portions of the human family. Some have attracted
the attention, and excited the admiration of large districts by their
wisdom. Others, apparently by the powers of ventriloquism, or by
peculiar dexterity in throwing the spear, or shooting with the bow, have
been the wonder of their generation; but the total absence of literature
leads to the loss of all former experience, and the wisdom of the wise
has not been handed down. They have had their minstrels too, but mere
tradition preserves not their effusions. One of these, and apparently a
genuine poet, attached himself to our party for several days, and
whenever we halted, sang our praises to the villagers, in smooth and
harmonious numbers. It was a sort of blank verse, and each line
consisted of five syllables. The song was short when it first began, but
each day he picked up more information about us, and added to the poem
until our praises became an ode of respectable length. When distance
from home compelled his return he expressed his regret at leaving us, and
was, of course, paid for his useful and pleasant flatteries. Another,
though a less gifted son of song, belonged to the Batoka of our own
party. Every evening, while the others were cooking, talking, or
sleeping, he rehearsed his songs, containing a history of everything he
had seen in the land of the white men, and on the way back. In
composing, extempore, any new piece, he was never at a loss; for if the
right word did not come he halted not, but eked out the measure with a
peculiar musical sound meaning nothing at all. He accompanied his
recitations on the _sansa_, an instrument figured in the woodcut, the
nine iron keys of which are played with the thumbs, while the fingers
pass behind to hold it. The hollow end and ornaments face the breast of
the player. Persons of a musical turn, if too poor to buy a sansa, may
be seen playing vigorously on an instrument made with a number of thick
corn-stalks sewn together, as a sansa frame, and keys of split bamboo,
which, though making but little sound, seems to soothe the player
himself. When the instrument is played with a calabash as a sounding
board, it emits a greater volume of sound. Pieces of shells and tin are
added to make a jingling accompaniment, and the calabash is also
ornamented.
After we had passed up, a party of slaves, belonging to the two native
Portuguese who assassinated the chief, Mpangwe, and took possession of
his lands at Zumbo, followed on our footsteps, and representing
themselves to be our "children," bought great quantities of ivory from
the Bawe, for a few coarse beads a tusk. They also purchased ten large
new canoes to carry it, at the rate of six strings of red or white beads,
or two fathoms of grey calico, for each canoe, and, at the same cheap
rate, a number of good-looking girls.