Life amongst the Makololo--Return journey--Native hospitality--A canoe
voyage on the Zambesi.
While we were at Sesheke, an ox was killed by a crocodile; a man found
the carcass floating in the river, and appropriated the meat. When the
owner heard of this, he requested him to come before the chief, as he
meant to complain of him; rather than go, the delinquent settled the
matter by giving one of his own oxen in lieu of the lost one. A headman
from near Linyanti came with a complaint that all his people had run off,
owing to the "hunger." Sekeletu said, "You must not be left to grow lean
alone, some of them must come back to you." He had thus an order to
compel their return, if he chose to put it in force. Families frequently
leave their own headman and flee to another village, and sometimes a
whole village decamps by night, leaving the headman by himself. Sekeletu
rarely interfered with the liberty of the subject to choose his own
headman, and, as it is often the fault of the latter which causes the
people to depart, it is punishment enough for him to be left alone.
Flagrant disobedience to the chief's orders is punished with death. A
Moshubia man was ordered to cut some reeds for Sekeletu: he went off, and
hid himself for two days instead. For this he was doomed to die, and was
carried in a canoe to the middle of the river, choked, and tossed into
the stream. The spectators hooted the executioners, calling out to them
that they too would soon be carried out and strangled. Occasionally when
a man is sent to beat an offender, he tells him his object, returns, and
assures the chief he has nearly killed him. The transgressor then keeps
for a while out of sight, and the matter is forgotten. The river here
teems with monstrous crocodiles, and women are frequently, while drawing
water, carried off by these reptiles.
We met a venerable warrior, sole survivor, probably, of the Mantatee host
which threatened to invade the colony in 1824. He retained a vivid
recollection of their encounter with the Griquas: "As we looked at the
men and horses, puffs of smoke arose, and some of us dropped down dead!"
"Never saw anything like it in my life, a man's brains lying in one place
and his body in another!" They could not understand what was killing
them; a ball struck a man's shield at an angle; knocked his arm out of
joint at the shoulder; and leaving a mark, or burn, as he said, on the
shield, killed another man close by. We saw the man with his shoulder
still dislocated. Sebetuane was present at the fight, and had an exalted
opinion of the power of white people ever afterwards.
The ancient costume of the Makololo consisted of the skin of a lamb, kid,
jackal, ocelot, or other small animal, worn round and below the loins:
and in cold weather a kaross, or skin mantle, was thrown over the
shoulders. The kaross is now laid aside, and the young men of fashion
wear a monkey-jacket and a skin round the hips; but no trousers,
waistcoat, or shirt. The river and lake tribes are in general very
cleanly, bathing several times a day. The Makololo women use water
rather sparingly, rubbing themselves with melted butter instead: this
keeps off parasites, but gives their clothes a rancid odour. One stage
of civilization often leads of necessity to another--the possession of
clothes creates a demand for soap; give a man a needle, and he is soon
back to you for thread.
This being a time of mourning, on account of the illness of the chief,
the men were negligent of their persons, they did not cut their hair, or
have merry dances, or carry spear and shield when they walked abroad. The
wife of Pitsane was busy making a large hut, while we were in the town:
she informed us that the men left house-building entirely to the women
and servants. A round tower of stakes and reeds, nine or ten feet high,
is raised and plastered; a floor is next made of soft tufa, or ant-hill
material and cowdung. This plaster prevents the poisonous insects,
called tumpans, whose bite causes fever in some, and painful sores in
all, from harbouring in the cracks or soil. The roof, which is much
larger in diameter than the tower, is made on the ground, and then, many
persons assisting, lifted up and placed on the tower, and thatched. A
plastered reed fence is next built up to meet the outer part of the roof,
which still projects a little over this fence, and a space of three feet
remains between it and the tower. We slept in this space, instead of in
the tower, as the inner door of the hut we occupied was uncomfortably
small, being only nineteen inches high, and twenty-two inches wide at the
floor. A foot from the bottom it measured seventeen inches in breadth,
and close to the top only twelve inches, so it was a difficult matter to
get through it. The tower has no light or ventilation, except through
this small door. The reason a lady assigned for having the doors so very
small was to keep out the mice!
The children have merry times, especially in the cool of the evening. One
of their games consists of a little girl being carried on the shoulders
of two others. She sits with outstretched arms, as they walk about with
her, and all the rest clap their hands, and stopping before each hut sing
pretty airs, some beating time on their little kilts of cowskin, others
making a curious humming sound between the songs. Excepting this and the
skipping-rope, the play of the girls consists in imitation of the serious
work of their mothers, building little huts, making small pots, and
cooking, pounding corn in miniature mortars, or hoeing tiny gardens. The
boys play with spears of reeds pointed with wood, and small shields, or
bows and arrows; or amuse themselves in making little cattle-pens, or in
moulding cattle in clay; they show great ingenuity in the imitation of
various-shaped horns. Some too are said to use slings, but as soon as
they can watch the goats, or calves, they are sent to the field. We saw
many boys riding on the calves they had in charge, but this is an
innovation since the arrival of the English with their horses. Tselane,
one of the ladies, on observing Dr. Livingstone noting observations on
the wet and dry bulb thermometers, thought that he too was engaged in
play; for on receiving no reply to her question, which was rather
difficult to answer, as the native tongue has no scientific terms, she
said with roguish glee, "Poor thing, playing like a little child!"
Like other Africans, the Makololo have great faith in the power of
medicine; they believe that there is an especial medicine for every ill
that flesh is heir to. Mamire is anxious to have children; he has six
wives, and only one boy, and he begs earnestly for "child medicine." The
mother of Sekeletu came from the Barotse Valley to see her son. Thinks
she has lost flesh since Dr. Livingstone was here before, and asks for
"the medicine of fatness." The Makololo consider plumpness an essential
part of beauty in women, but the extreme stoutness, mentioned by Captain
Speke, in the north, would be considered hideous here, for the men have
been overheard speaking of a lady whom we call "inclined to
_embonpoint_," as "fat unto ugliness."
Two packages from the Kuruman, containing letters and newspapers, reached
Linyanti previous to our arrival, and Sekeletu, not knowing when we were
coming, left them there; but now at once sent a messenger for them. This
man returned on the seventh day, having travelled 240 geographical miles.
One of the packages was too heavy for him, and he left it behind. As the
Doctor wished to get some more medicine and papers out of the wagon left
at Linyanti in 1853, he decided upon going thither himself. The chief
gave him his own horse, now about twelve years old, and some men. He
found everything in his wagon as safe as when he left it seven years
before. The headmen, Mosale and Pekonyane, received him cordially, and
lamented that they had so little to offer him. Oh! had he only arrived
the year previous, when there was abundance of milk and corn and beer.
Very early the next morning the old town-crier, Ma-Pulenyane, of his own
accord made a public proclamation, which, in the perfect stillness of the
town long before dawn, was striking: "I have dreamed! I have dreamed! I
have dreamed! Thou Mosale and thou Pekonyane, my lords, be not faint-
hearted, nor let your hearts be sore, but believe all the words of Monare
(the Doctor) for his heart is white as milk towards the Makololo. I
dreamed that he was coming, and that the tribe would live, if you prayed
to God and give heed to the word of Monare." Ma-Pulenyane showed Dr.
Livingstone the burying-place where poor Helmore and seven others were
laid, distinguishing those whom he had put to rest, and those for whom
Mafale had performed that last office. Nothing whatever marked the spot,
and with the native idea of _hiding_ the dead, it was said, "it will soon
be all overgrown with bushes, for no one will cultivate there." None but
Ma-Pulenyane approached the place, the others stood at a respectful
distance; they invariably avoid everything connected with the dead, and
no such thing as taking portions of human bodies to make charms of, as is
the custom further north, has ever been known among the Makololo.
Sekeletu's health improved greatly during our visit, the melancholy
foreboding left his spirits, and he became cheerful, but resolutely
refused to leave his den, and appear in public till he was perfectly
cured, and had regained what he considered his good looks. He also
feared lest some of those who had bewitched him originally might still be
among the people, and neutralize our remedies. {4}
As we expected another steamer to be at Kongone in November, it was
impossible for us to remain in Sesheke more than one month. Before our
departure, the chief and his principal men expressed in a formal manner
their great desire to have English people settled on the Batoka
highlands. At one time he proposed to go as far as Phori, in order to
select a place of residence; but as he afterwards saw reasons for
remaining where he was, till his cure was completed, he gave orders to
those sent with us, in the event of our getting, on our return, past the
rapids near Tette, not to bring us to Sesheke, but to send forward a
messenger, and he with the whole tribe would come to us. Dr. Kirk being
of the same age, Sekeletu was particularly anxious that he should come
and live with him. He said that he would cut off a section of the
country for the special use of the English; and on being told that in all
probability their descendants would cause disturbance in his country, he
replied, "These would be only domestic feuds, and of no importance." The
great extent of uncultivated land on the cool and now unpeopled highlands
has but to be seen to convince the spectator how much room there is, and
to spare, for a vastly greater population than ever, in our day, can be
congregated there.
On the last occasion of our holding Divine service at Sesheke, the men
were invited to converse on the subject on which they had been addressed.
So many of them had died since we were here before, that not much
probability existed of our all meeting again, and this had naturally led
to the subject of a future state. They replied that they did not wish to
offend the speaker, but they could not believe that all the dead would
rise again: "Can those who have been killed in the field and devoured by
the vultures; or those who have been eaten by the hyenas or lions; or
those who have been tossed into the river, and eaten by more than one
crocodile,--can they all be raised again to life?" They were told that
men could take a leaden bullet, change it into a salt (acetate of lead),
which could be dissolved as completely in water as our bodies in the
stomachs of animals, and then reconvert it into lead; or that the bullet
could be transformed into the red and white paint of our wagons, and
again be reconverted into the original lead; and that if men exactly like
themselves could do so much, how much more could He do who has made the
eye to see, and the ear to hear! We added, however, that we believed in
a resurrection, not because we understood how it would be brought about,
but because our Heavenly Father assured us of it in His Book. The
reference to the truth of the Book and its Author seems always to have
more influence on the native mind than the cleverness of the
illustration. The knowledge of the people is scanty, but their reasoning
is generally clear as far as their information goes.
We left Sesheke on the 17th September, 1860, convoyed by Pitsane and
Leshore with their men. Pitsane was ordered by Sekeletu to make a hedge
round the garden at the Falls, to protect the seeds we had brought; and
also to collect some of the tobacco tribute below the Falls. Leshore,
besides acting as a sort of guard of honour to us, was sent on a
diplomatic mission to Sinamane. No tribute was exacted by Sekeletu from
Sinamane; but, as he had sent in his adhesion, he was expected to act as
a guard in case of the Matebele wishing to cross and attack the Makololo.
As we intended to purchase canoes of Sinamane in which to descend the
river, Leshore was to commend us to whatever help this Batoka chief could
render. It must be confessed that Leshore's men, who were all of the
black subject tribes, really needed to be viewed by us in the most
charitable light; for Leshore, on entering any village, called out to the
inhabitants, "Look out for your property, and see that my thieves don't
steal it."
Two young Makololo with their Batoka servants accompanied us to see if
Kebrabasa could be surmounted, and to bring a supply of medicine for
Sekeletu's leprosy; and half a dozen able canoe-men, under Mobito, who
had previously gone with Dr. Livingstone to Loanda, were sent to help us
in our river navigation. Some men on foot drove six oxen which Sekeletu
had given us as provisions for the journey. It was, as before remarked,
a time of scarcity; and, considering the dearth of food, our treatment
had been liberal.
By day the canoe-men are accustomed to keep close under the river's bank
from fear of the hippopotami; by night, however, they keep in the middle
of the stream, as then those animals are usually close to the bank on
their way to their grazing grounds. Our progress was considerably
impeded by the high winds, which at this season of the year begin about
eight in the morning, and blow strongly up the river all day. The canoes
were poor leaky affairs, and so low in parts of the gunwale, that the
paddlers were afraid to follow the channel when it crossed the river,
lest the waves might swamp us. A rough sea is dreaded by all these
inland canoe-men; but though timid, they are by no means unskilful at
their work. The ocean rather astonished them afterwards; and also the
admirable way that the Nyassa men managed their canoes on a rough lake,
and even amongst the breakers, where no small boat could possibly live.
On the night of the 17th we slept on the left bank of the Majeele, after
having had all the men ferried across. An ox was slaughtered, and not an
ounce of it was left next morning. Our two young Makololo companions,
Maloka and Ramakukane, having never travelled before, naturally clung to
some of the luxuries they had been accustomed to at home. When they lay
down to sleep, their servants were called to spread their blankets over
their august persons, not forgetting their feet. This seems to be the
duty of the Makololo wife to her husband, and strangers sometimes receive
the honour. One of our party, having wandered, slept at the village of
Nambowe. When he laid down, to his surprise two of Nambowe's wives came
at once, and carefully and kindly spread his kaross over him.
A beautiful silvery fish with reddish fins, called Ngwesi, is very
abundant in the river; large ones weigh fifteen or twenty pounds each.
Its teeth are exposed, and so arranged that, when they meet, the edges
cut a hook like nippers. The Ngwesi seems to be a very ravenous fish. It
often gulps down the Konokono, a fish armed with serrated bones more than
an inch in length in the pectoral and dorsal fins, which, fitting into a
notch at the roots, can be put by the fish on full cock or straight
out,--they cannot be folded down, without its will, and even break in
resisting. The name "Konokono," elbow-elbow, is given it from a
resemblance its extended fins are supposed to bear to a man's elbows
stuck out from his body. It often performs the little trick of cocking
its fins in the stomach of the Ngwesi, and, the elbows piercing its
enemy's sides, he is frequently found floating dead. The fin bones seem
to have an acrid secretion on them, for the wound they make is
excessively painful. The Konokono barks distinctly when landed with the
hook. Our canoe-men invariably picked up every dead fish they saw on the
surface of the water, however far gone. An unfragrant odour was no
objection; the fish was boiled and eaten, and the water drunk as soup. It
is a curious fact that many of the Africans keep fish as we do woodcocks,
until they are extremely offensive, before they consider them fit to eat.
Our paddlers informed us on our way down that iguanas lay their eggs in
July and August, and crocodiles in September. The eggs remain a month or
two under the sand where they are laid, and the young come out when the
rains have fairly commenced. The canoe-men were quite positive that
crocodiles frequently stun men by striking them with their tails, and
then squat on them till they are drowned. We once caught a young
crocodile, which certainly did use its tail to inflict sharp blows, and
led us to conclude that the native opinion is correct. They believed
also that, if a person shuts the beast's eyes, it lets go its hold.
Crocodiles have been known to unite and kill a large one of their own
species and eat it. Some fishermen throw the bones of the fish into the
river but in most of the fishing villages there are heaps of them in
various places. The villagers can walk over them without getting them
into their feet; but the Makololo, from having softer soles, are unable
to do so. The explanation offered was, that the fishermen have a
medicine against fish-bones, but that they will not reveal it to the
Makololo.
We spent a night on Mparira island, which is four miles long and about
one mile broad. Mokompa, the headman, was away hunting elephants. His
wife sent for him on our arrival, and he returned next morning before we
left. Taking advantage of the long-continued drought, he had set fire to
the reeds between the Chobe and Zambesi, in such a manner as to drive the
game out at one corner, where his men laid in wait with their spears. He
had killed five elephants and three buffaloes, wounding several others
which escaped.
On our land party coming up, we were told that the oxen were bitten by
the tsetse: they could see a great difference in their looks. One was
already eaten, and they now wished to slaughter another. A third fell
into a buffalo-pit next day, so our stock was soon reduced.
The Batoka chief, Moshobotwane, again treated us with his usual
hospitality, giving us an ox, some meal, and milk. We took another view
of the grand Mosi-oa-tunya, and planted a quantity of seeds in the garden
on the island; but, as no one will renew the hedge, the hippopotami will,
doubtless, soon destroy what we planted. Mashotlane assisted us. So
much power was allowed to this under-chief, that he appeared as if he had
cast off the authority of Sekeletu altogether. He did not show much
courtesy to his messengers; instead of giving them food, as is customary,
he took the meat out of a pot in their presence, and handed it to his own
followers. This may have been because Sekeletu's men bore an order to
him to remove to Linyanti. He had not only insulted Baldwin, but had
also driven away the Griqua traders; but this may all end in nothing.
Some of the natives here, and at Sesheke, know a few of the low tricks of
more civilized traders. A pot of milk was brought to us one evening,
which was more indebted to the Zambesi than to any cow. Baskets of fine-
looking white meal, elsewhere, had occasionally the lower half filled
with bran. Eggs are always a perilous investment. The native idea of a
good egg differs as widely from our own as is possible on such a trifling
subject. An egg is eaten here with apparent relish, though an embryo
chick be inside.
We left Mosi-oa-tunya on the 27th, and slept close to the village of
Bakwini. It is built on a ridge of loose red soil, which produces great
crops of mapira and ground-nuts; many magnificent mosibe-trees stand near
the village. Machimisi, the headman of the village, possesses a herd of
cattle and a large heart; he kept us company for a couple of days to
guide us on our way.
We had heard a good deal of a stronghold some miles below the Falls,
called Kalunda. Our return path was much nearer the Zambesi than that of
our ascent,--in fact, as near as the rough country would allow,--but we
left it twice before we reached Sinamane's, in order to see Kalunda and a
Fall called Moomba, or Moamba. The Makololo had once dispossessed the
Batoka of Kalunda, but we could not see the fissure, or whatever it is,
that rendered it a place of security, as it was on the southern bank. The
crack of the Great Falls was here continued: the rocks are the same as
further up, but perhaps less weather-worn--and now partially stratified
in great thick masses. The country through which we were travelling was
covered with a cindery-looking volcanic tufa, and might be called
"Katakaumena."
The description we received of the Moamba Falls seemed to promise
something grand. They were said to send up "smoke" in the wet season,
like Mosi-oa-tunya; but when we looked down into the cleft, in which the
dark-green narrow river still rolls, we saw, about 800 or 1000 feet below
us, what, after Mosi-oa-tunya, seemed two insignificant cataracts. It
was evident that Pitsane, observing our delight at the Victoria Falls,
wished to increase our pleasure by a second wonder. One Mosi-oa-tunya,
however, is quite enough for a continent.
We had now an opportunity of seeing more of the Batoka, than we had on
the highland route to our north. They did not wait till the evening
before offering food to the strangers. The aged wife of the headman of a
hamlet, where we rested at midday, at once kindled a fire, and put on the
cooking-pot to make porridge. Both men and women are to be distinguished
by greater roundness of feature than the other natives, and the custom of
knocking out the upper front teeth gives at once a distinctive character
to the face. Their colour attests the greater altitude of the country in
which many of them formerly lived. Some, however, are as dark as the
Bashubia and Barotse of the great valley to their west, in which stands
Sesheke, formerly the capital of the Balui, or Bashubia.
The assertion may seem strange, yet it is none the less true, that in all
the tribes we have visited we never saw a really black person. Different
shades of brown prevail, and often with a bright bronze tint, which no
painter, except Mr. Angus, seems able to catch. Those who inhabit
elevated, dry situations, and who are not obliged to work much in the
sun, are frequently of a light warm brown, "dark but comely." Darkness
of colour is probably partly caused by the sun, and partly by something
in the climate or soil which we do not yet know. We see something of the
same sort in trout and other fish which take their colour from the ponds
or streams in which they live. The members of our party were much less
embrowned by free exposure to the sun for years than Dr. Livingstone and
his family were by passing once from Kuruman to Cape Town, a journey
which occupied only a couple of months.
We encamped on the Kalomo, on the 1st of October, and found the weather
very much warmer than when we crossed this stream in August. At 3 p.m.
the thermometer, four feet from the ground, was 101 degrees in the shade;
the wet bulb only 61 degrees: a difference of 40 degrees. Yet,
notwithstanding this extreme dryness of the atmosphere, without a drop of
rain having fallen for months, and scarcely any dew, many of the shrubs
and trees were putting forth fresh leaves of various hues, while others
made a profuse display of lovely blossoms.
Two old and very savage buffaloes were shot for our companions on the 3rd
October. Our Volunteers may feel an interest in knowing that balls
sometimes have but little effect: one buffalo fell, on receiving a
Jacob's shell; it was hit again twice, and lost a large amount of blood;
and yet it sprang up, and charged a native, who, by great agility, had
just time to climb a tree, before the maddened beast struck it, battering-
ram fashion, hard enough almost to have split both head and tree. It
paused a few seconds--drew back several paces--glared up at the man--and
then dashed at the tree again and again, as if determined to shake him
out of it. It took two more Jacob's shells, and five other large solid
rifle-balls to finish the beast at last. These old surly buffaloes had
been wandering about in a sort of miserable fellowship; their skins were
diseased and scabby, as if leprous, and their horns atrophied or worn
down to stumps--the first was killed outright, by one Jacob's shell, the
second died hard. There is so much difference in the tenacity of life in
wounded animals of the same species, that the inquiry is suggested where
the seat of life can be?--We have seen a buffalo live long enough, after
a large bullet had passed right through the heart, to allow firm adherent
clots to be formed in the two holes.
One day's journey above Sinamane's, a mass of mountain called Gorongue,
or Golongwe, is said to cross the river, and the rent through which the
river passes is, by native report, quite fearful to behold. The country
round it is so rocky, that our companions dreaded the fatigue, and were
not much to blame, if, as is probably the case, the way be worse than
that over which we travelled. As we trudged along over the black slag-
like rocks, the almost leafless trees affording no shade, the heat was
quite as great as Europeans could bear. It was 102 degrees in the shade,
and a thermometer placed under the tongue or armpit showed that our blood
was 99.5 degrees, or 1.5 degrees hotter than that of the natives, which
stood at 98 degrees. Our shoes, however, enable us to pass over the hot
burning soil better than they can. Many of those who wear sandals have
corns on the sides of the feet, and on the heels, where the straps pass.
We have seen instances, too, where neither sandals nor shoes were worn,
of corns on the soles of the feet. It is, moreover, not at all uncommon
to see toes cocked up, as if pressed out of their proper places; at home,
we should have unhesitatingly ascribed this to the vicious fashions
perversely followed by our shoemakers.
On the 5th, after crossing some hills, we rested at the village of
Simariango. The bellows of the blacksmith here were somewhat different
from the common goatskin bags, and more like those seen in Madagascar.
They consisted of two wooden vessels, like a lady's bandbox of small
dimensions, the upper ends of which were covered with leather, and looked
something like the heads of drums, except that the leather bagged in the
centre. They were fitted with long nozzles, through which the air was
driven by working the loose covering of the tops up and down by means of
a small piece of wood attached to their centres. The blacksmith said
that tin was obtained from a people in the north, called Marendi, and
that he had made it into bracelets; we had never heard before of tin
being found in the country.
Our course then lay down the bed of a rivulet, called Mapatizia, in which
there was much calc spar, with calcareous schist, and then the Tette grey
sandstone, which usually overlies coal. On the 6th we arrived at the
islet Chilombe, belonging to Sinamane, where the Zambesi runs broad and
smooth again, and were well received by Sinamane himself. Never was
Sunday more welcome to the weary than this, the last we were to spend
with our convoy.
We now saw many good-looking young men and women. The dresses of the
ladies are identical with those of Nubian women in Upper Egypt. To a
belt on the waist a great number of strings are attached to hang all
round the person. These fringes are about six or eight inches long. The
matrons wear in addition a skin cut like the tails of the coatee formerly
worn by our dragoons. The younger girls wear the waist-belt exhibited in
the woodcut, ornamented with shells, and have the fringes only in front.
Marauding parties of Batoka, calling themselves Makololo, have for some
time had a wholesome dread of Sinamane's "long spears." Before going to
Tette our Batoka friend, Masakasa, was one of a party that came to steal
some of the young women; but Sinamane, to their utter astonishment,
attacked them so furiously that the survivors barely escaped with their
lives. Masakasa had to flee so fast that he threw away his shield, his
spear, and his clothes, and returned home a wiser and a sadder man.
Sinamane's people cultivate large quantities of tobacco, which they
manufacture into balls for the Makololo market. Twenty balls, weighing
about three-quarters of a pound each, are sold for a hoe. The tobacco is
planted on low moist spots on the banks of the Zambesi; and was in flower
at the time we were there, in October. Sinamane's people appear to have
abundance of food, and are all in good condition. He could sell us only
two of his canoes; but lent us three more to carry us as far as Moemba's,
where he thought others might be purchased. They were manned by his own
canoe-men, who were to bring them back. The river is about 250 yards
wide, and flows serenely between high banks towards the North-east. Below
Sinamane's the banks are often worn down fifty feet, and composed of
shingle and gravel of igneous rocks, sometimes set in a ferruginous
matrix. The bottom is all gravel and shingle, how formed we cannot
imagine, unless in pot-holes in the deep fissure above. The bottom above
the Falls, save a few rocks close by them, is generally sandy or of soft
tufa. Every damp spot is covered with maize, pumpkins, water-melons,
tobacco, and hemp. There is a pretty numerous Batoka population on both
sides of the river. As we sailed slowly down, the people saluted us from
the banks, by clapping their hands. A headman even hailed us, and
brought a generous present of corn and pumpkins.
Moemba owns a rich island, called Mosanga, a mile in length, on which his
village stands. He has the reputation of being a brave warrior, and is
certainly a great talker; but he gave us strangers something better than
a stream of words. We received a handsome present of corn, and the
fattest goat we had ever seen; it resembled mutton. His people were as
liberal as their chief. They brought two large baskets of corn, and a
lot of tobacco, as a sort of general contribution to the travellers. One
of Sinamane's canoe-men, after trying to get his pay, deserted here, and
went back before the stipulated time, with the story, that the Englishman
had stolen the canoes. Shortly after sunrise next morning, Sinamane came
into the village with fifty of his "long spears," evidently determined to
retake his property by force; he saw at a glance that his man had
deceived him. Moemba rallied him for coming on a wildgoose chase. "Here
are your canoes left with me, your men have all been paid, and the
Englishmen are now asking me to sell my canoes." Sinamane said little to
us; only observing that he had been deceived by his follower. A single
remark of his chief's caused the foolish fellow to leave suddenly,
evidently much frightened and crestfallen. Sinamane had been very kind
to us, and, as he was looking on when we gave our present to Moemba, we
made him also an additional offering of some beads, and parted good
friends. Moemba, having heard that we had called the people of Sinamane
together to tell them about our Saviour's mission to man, and to pray
with them, associated the idea of Sunday with the meeting, and, before
anything of the sort was proposed, came and asked that he and his people
might be "sundayed" as well as his neighbours; and be given a little seed
wheat, and fruit-tree seeds; with which request of course we very
willingly complied. The idea of praying direct to the Supreme Being,
though not quite new to all, seems to strike their minds so forcibly that
it will not be forgotten. Sinamane said that he prayed to God, Morungo,
and made drink-offerings to him. Though he had heard of us, he had never
seen white men before.
Beautiful crowned cranes, named from their note "ma-wang," were seen
daily, and were beginning to pair. Large flocks of spur-winged geese, or
machikwe, were common. This goose is said to lay her eggs in March. We
saw also pairs of Egyptian geese, as well as a few of the knob-nosed, or,
as they are called in India, combed geese. When the Egyptian geese, as
at the present time, have young, the goslings keep so steadily in the
wake of their mother, that they look as if they were a part of her tail;
and both parents, when on land, simulate lameness quite as well as our
plovers, to draw off pursuers. The ostrich also adopts the lapwing
fashion, but no quadrupeds do: they show fight to defend their young
instead. In some places the steep banks were dotted with the holes which
lead into the nests of bee-eaters. These birds came out in hundreds as
we passed. When the red-breasted species settle on the trees, they give
them the appearance of being covered with red foliage.
On the morning of the 12th October we passed through a wild, hilly
country, with fine wooded scenery on both sides, but thinly inhabited.
The largest trees were usually thorny acacias, of great size and
beautiful forms. As we sailed by several villages without touching, the
people became alarmed, and ran along the banks, spears in hand. We
employed one to go forward and tell Mpande of our coming. This allayed
their fears, and we went ashore, and took breakfast near the large island
with two villages on it, opposite the mouth of the Zungwe, where we had
left the Zambesi on our way up. Mpande was sorry that he had no canoes
of his own to sell, but he would lend us two. He gave us cooked pumpkins
and a water-melon. His servant had lateral curvature of the spine. We
have often seen cases of humpback, but this was the only case of this
kind of curvature we had met with. Mpande accompanied us himself in his
own vessel, till we had an opportunity of purchasing a fine large canoe
elsewhere. We paid what was considered a large price for it: twelve
strings of blue cut glass neck beads, an equal number of large blue ones
of the size of marbles, and two yards of grey calico. Had the beads been
coarser, they would have been more valued, because such were in fashion.
Before concluding the bargain the owner said "his bowels yearned for his
canoe, and we must give a little more to stop their yearning." This was
irresistible. The trading party of Sequasha, which we now met, had
purchased ten large new canoes for six strings of cheap coarse white
beads each, or their equivalent, four yards of calico, and had bought for
the merest trifle ivory enough to load them all. They were driving a
trade in slaves also, which was something new in this part of Africa, and
likely soon to change the character of the inhabitants. These men had
been living in clover, and were uncommonly fat and plump. When sent to
trade, slaves wisely never stint themselves of beer or anything else,
which their master's goods can buy.
The temperature of the Zambesi had increased 10 degrees since August,
being now 80 degrees. The air was as high as 96 degrees after sunset;
and, the vicinity of the water being the coolest part, we usually made
our beds close by the river's brink, though there in danger of
crocodiles. Africa differs from India in the air always becoming cool
and refreshing long before the sun returns, and there can be no doubt
that we can in this country bear exposure to the sun, which would be
fatal in India. It is probably owing to the greater dryness of the
African atmosphere that sunstroke is so rarely met with. In twenty-two
years Dr. Livingstone never met or heard of a single case, though the
protective head-dresses of India are rarely seen.
When the water is nearly at its lowest, we occasionally meet with small
rapids which are probably not in existence during the rest of the year.
Having slept opposite the rivulet Bume, which comes from the south, we
passed the island of Nakansalo, and went down the rapids of the same name
on the 17th, and came on the morning of the 19th to the more serious ones
of Nakabele, at the entrance to Kariba. The Makololo guided the canoes
admirably through the opening in the dyke. When we entered the gorge we
came on upwards of thirty hippopotami: a bank near the entrance stretches
two-thirds across the narrowed river, and in the still place behind it
they were swimming about. Several were in the channel, and our canoe-men
were afraid to venture down among them, because, as they affirm, there is
commonly an ill-natured one in a herd, which takes a malignant pleasure
in upsetting canoes. Two or three boys on the rocks opposite amused
themselves by throwing stones at the frightened animals, and hit several
on the head. It would have been no difficult matter to have shot the
whole herd. We fired a few shots to drive them off; the balls often
glance off the skull, and no more harm is done than when a schoolboy gets
a bloody nose; we killed one, which floated away down the rapid current,
followed by a number of men on the bank. A native called to us from the
left bank, and said that a man on his side knew how to pray to the Kariba
gods, and advised us to hire him to pray for our safety, while we were
going down the rapids, or we should certainly all be drowned. No one
ever risked his life in Kariba without first paying the river-doctor, or
priest, for his prayers. Our men asked if there was a cataract in front,
but he declined giving any information; they were not on his side of the
river; if they would come over, then he might be able to tell them. We
crossed, but he went off to the village. We then landed and walked over
the hills to have a look at Karaba before trusting our canoes in it. The
current was strong, and there was broken water in some places, but the
channel was nearly straight, and had no cataract, so we determined to
risk it. Our men visited the village while we were gone, and were
treated to beer and tobacco. The priest who knows how to pray to the god
that rules the rapids followed us with several of his friends, and they
were rather surprised to see us pass down in safety, without the aid of
his intercession. The natives who followed the dead hippopotamus caught
it a couple of miles below, and, having made it fast to a rock, were
sitting waiting for us on the bank beside the dead animal. As there was
a considerable current there, and the rocky banks were unfit for our
beds, we took the hippopotamus in tow, telling the villagers to follow,
and we would give them most of the meat. The crocodiles tugged so hard
at the carcass, that we were soon obliged to cast it adrift, to float
down in the current, to avoid upsetting the canoe. We had to go on so
far before finding a suitable spot to spend the night in, that the
natives concluded we did not intend to share the meat with them, and
returned to the village. We slept two nights at the place where the
hippopotamus was cut up. The crocodiles had a busy time of it in the
dark, tearing away at what was left in the river, and thrashing the water
furiously with their powerful tails. The hills on both sides of Kariba
are much like those of Kebrabasa, the strata tilted and twisted in every
direction, with no level ground.
Although the hills confine the Zambesi within a narrow channel for a
number of miles, there are no rapids beyond those near the entrance. The
river is smooth and apparently very deep. Only one single human being
was seen in the gorge, the country being too rough for culture. Some
rocks in the water, near the outlet of Kariba, at a distance look like a
fort; and such large masses dislocated, bent, and even twisted to a
remarkable degree, at once attest some tremendous upheaving and
convulsive action of nature, which probably caused Kebrabasa, Kariba, and
the Victoria Falls to assume their present forms; it took place after the
formation of the coal, that mineral having then been tilted up. We have
probably nothing equal to it in the present quiet operations of nature.
On emerging we pitched our camp by a small stream, the Pendele, a few
miles below the gorge. The Palabi mountain stands on the western side of
the lower end of the Kariba strait; the range to which it belongs crosses
the river, and runs to the south-east. Chikumbula, a hospitable old
headman, under Nchomokela, the paramount chief of a large district, whom
we did not see, brought us next morning a great basket of meal, and four
fowls, with some beer, and a cake of salt, "to make it taste good."
Chikumbula said that the elephants plagued them, by eating up the cotton-
plants; but his people seem to be well off.
A few days before we came, they caught three buffaloes in pitfalls in one
night, and, unable to eat them all, left one to rot. During the night
the wind changed and blew from the dead buffalo to our sleeping-place;
and a hungry lion, not at all dainty in his food, stirred up the putrid
mass, and growled and gloated over his feast, to the disturbance of our
slumbers. Game of all kinds is in most extraordinary abundance,
especially from this point to below the Kafue, and so it is on
Moselekatso's side, where there are no inhabitants. The drought drives
all the game to the river to drink. An hour's walk on the right bank,
morning or evening, reveals a country swarming with wild animals: vast
herds of pallahs, many waterbucks, koodoos, buffaloes, wild pigs, elands,
zebras, and monkeys appear; francolins, guinea-fowls, and myriads of
turtledoves attract the eye in the covers, with the fresh spoor of
elephants and rhinoceroses, which had been at the river during the night.
Every few miles we came upon a school of hippopotami, asleep on some
shallow sandbank; their bodies, nearly all out of the water, appeared
like masses of black rock in the river. When these animals are hunted
much, they become proportionably wary, but here no hunter ever troubles
them, and they repose in security, always however taking the precaution
of sleeping just above the deep channel, into which they can plunge when
alarmed. When a shot is fired into a sleeping herd, all start up on
their feet, and stare with peculiar stolid looks of hippopotamic
surprise, and wait for another shot before dashing into deep water. A
few miles below Chikumbula's we saw a white hippopotamus in a herd. Our
men had never seen one like it before. It was of a pinkish white,
exactly like the colour of the Albino. It seemed to be the father of a
number of others, for there were many marked with large light patches.
The so-called _white_ elephant is just such a pinkish Albino as this
hippopotamus. A few miles above Kariba we observed that, in two small
hamlets, many of the inhabitants had a similar affection of the skin. The
same influence appeared to have affected man and beast. A dark coloured
hippopotamus stood alone, as if expelled from the herd, and bit the
water, shaking his head from side to side in a most frantic manner. When
the female has twins, she is said to kill one of them.
We touched at the beautiful tree-covered island of Kalabi, opposite where
Tuba-mokoro lectured the lion in our way up. The ancestors of the people
who now inhabit this island possessed cattle. The tsetse has taken
possession of the country since "the beeves were lifted." No one knows
where these insects breed; at a certain season all disappear, and as
suddenly come back, no one knows whence. The natives are such close
observers of nature, that their ignorance in this case surprised us. A
solitary hippopotamus had selected the little bay in which we landed, and
where the women drew water, for his dwelling-place. Pretty little
lizards, with light blue and red tails, run among the rocks, catching
flies and other insects. These harmless--though to new-comers
repulsive--creatures sometimes perform good service to man, by eating
great numbers of the destructive white ants.
At noon on the 24th October, we found Sequasha in a village below the
Kafue, with the main body of his people. He said that 210 elephants had
been killed during his trip; many of his men being excellent hunters. The
numbers of animals we saw renders this possible. He reported that, after
reaching the Kafue, he went northwards into the country of the Zulus,
whose ancestors formerly migrated from the south and set up a sort of
Republican form of government. Sequasha is the greatest Portuguese
traveller we ever became acquainted with, and he boasts that he is able
to speak a dozen different dialects; yet, unfortunately, he can give but
a very meagre account of the countries and people he has seen, and his
statements are not very much to be relied on. But considering the
influence among which he has been reared, and the want of the means of
education at Tette, it is a wonder that he possesses the good traits that
he sometimes exhibits. Among his wares were several cheap American
clocks; a useless investment rather, for a part of Africa where no one
cares for the artificial measurement of time. These clocks got him into
trouble among the Banyai: he set them all agoing in the presence of a
chief, who became frightened at the strange sounds they made, and looked
upon them as so many witchcraft agencies at work to bring all manner of
evils upon himself and his people. Sequasha, it was decided, had been
guilty of a milando, or crime, and he had to pay a heavy fine of cloth
and beads for his exhibition. He alluded to our having heard that he had
killed Mpangwe, and he denied having actually done so; but in his absence
his name had got mixed up in the affair, in consequence of his slaves,
while drinking beer one night with Namakusuru, the man who succeeded
Mpangwe, saying that they would kill the chief for him. His partner had
not thought of this when we saw him on the way up, for he tried to excuse
the murder, by saying that now they had put the right man into the
chieftainship.
After three hours' sail, on the morning of the 29th, the river was
narrowed again by the mountains of Mburuma, called Karivua, into one
channel, and another rapid dimly appeared. It was formed by two currents
guided by rocks to the centre. In going down it, the men sent by
Sekeletu behaved very nobly. The canoes entered without previous survey,
and the huge jobbling waves of mid-current began at once to fill them.
With great presence of mind, and without a moment's hesitation, two men
lightened each by jumping overboard; they then ordered a Botoka man to do
the same, as "the white men must be saved." "I cannot swim," said the
Batoka. "Jump out, then, and hold on to the canoe;" which he instantly
did. Swimming alongside, they guided the swamping canoes down the swift
current to the foot of the rapid, and then ran them ashore to bale them
out. A boat could have passed down safely, but our canoes were not a
foot above the water at the gunwales.
Thanks to the bravery of these poor fellows, nothing was lost, although
everything was well soaked. This rapid is nearly opposite the west end
of the Mburuma mountains or Karivua. Another soon begins below it. They
are said to be all smoothed over when the river rises. The canoes had to
be unloaded at this the worst rapid, and the goods carried about a
hundred yards. By taking the time in which a piece of stick floated past
100 feet, we found the current to be running six knots, by far the
greatest velocity noted in the river. As the men were bringing the last
canoe down close to the shore, the stern swung round into the current,
and all except one man let go, rather than be dragged off. He clung to
the bow, and was swept out into the middle of the stream. Having held on
when he ought to have let go, he next put his life in jeopardy by letting
go when he ought to have held on; and was in a few seconds swallowed up
by a fearful whirlpool. His comrades launched out a canoe below, and
caught him as he rose the third time to the surface, and saved him,
though much exhausted and very cold.
The scenery of this pass reminded us of Kebrabasa, although it is much
inferior. A band of the same black shining glaze runs along the rocks
about two feet from the water's edge. There was not a blade of grass on
some of the hills, it being the end of the usual dry season succeeding a
previous severe drought; yet the hill-sides were dotted over with
beautiful green trees. A few antelopes were seen on the rugged slopes,
where some people too appeared lying down, taking a cup of beer. The
Karivua narrows are about thirty miles in length. They end at the
mountain Roganora. Two rocks, twelve or fifteen feet above the water at
the time we were there, may in flood be covered and dangerous. Our chief
danger was the wind, a very slight ripple being sufficient to swamp
canoes.