The waterbuck--Disaster in Kebrabasa rapids--The "Ma Robert"
founders--Arrival of the "Pioneer" and Bishop Mackenzie's
party--Portuguese slave-trade--Interference and liberation.
We arrived at Zumbo, at the mouth of the Loangwa, on the 1st of November.
The water being scarcely up to the knee, our land party waded this river
with ease. A buffalo was shot on an island opposite Pangola's, the ball
lodging in the spleen. It was found to have been wounded in the same
organ previously, for an iron bullet was imbedded in it, and the wound
entirely healed. A great deal of the plant _Pistia stratiotes_ was seen
floating in the river. Many people inhabit the right bank about this
part, yet the game is very abundant.
As we were taking our breakfast on the morning of the 2nd, the Mambo
Kazai, of whom we knew nothing, and his men came with their muskets and
large powder-horns to levy a fine, and obtain payment for the wood we
used in cooking. But on our replying to his demand that we were English,
"Oh! are you?" he said; "I thought you were Bazungu (Portuguese). They
are the people I take payments from:" and he apologized for his mistake.
Bazungu, or Azungu, is a term applied to all foreigners of a light
colour, and to Arabs; even to trading slaves if clothed; it probably
means foreigners, or visitors,--from _zunga_, to visit or wander,--and
the Portuguese were the only foreigners these men had ever seen. As we
had no desire to pass for people of that nation--quite the contrary--we
usually made a broad line of demarcation by saying that we were English,
and the English neither bought, sold, nor held black people as slaves,
but wished to put a stop to the slave-trade altogether.
We called upon our friend, Mpende, in passing. He provided a hut for us,
with new mats spread on the floor. Having told him that we were hurrying
on because the rains were near, "Are they near?" eagerly inquired an old
counsellor, "and are we to have plenty of rain this year?" We could only
say that it was about the usual time for the rains to commence; and that
there were the usual indications in great abundance of clouds floating
westwards, but that we knew nothing more than they did themselves.
The hippopotami are more wary here than higher up, as the natives hunt
them with guns. Having shot one on a shallow sandbank, our men undertook
to bring it over to the left bank, in order to cut it up with greater
ease. It was a fine fat one, and all rejoiced in the hope of eating the
fat for butter, with our hard dry cakes of native meal. Our cook was
sent over to cut a choice piece for dinner, but returned with the
astonishing intelligence that the carcass was gone. They had been
hoodwinked, and were very much ashamed of themselves. A number of Banyai
came to assist in rolling it ashore, and asserted that it was all shallow
water. They rolled it over and over towards the land, and, finding the
rope we had made fast to it, as they said, an encumbrance, it was
unloosed. All were shouting and talking as loud as they could bawl, when
suddenly our expected feast plumped into a deep hole, as the Banyai
intended it should do. When sinking, all the Makololo jumped in after
it. One caught frantically at the tail; another grasped a foot; a third
seized the hip; "but, by Sebituane, it would go down in spite of all that
we could do." Instead of a fat hippopotamus we had only a lean fowl for
dinner, and were glad enough to get even that. The hippopotamus,
however, floated during the night, and was found about a mile below. The
Banyai then assembled on the bank, and disputed our right to the beast:
"It might have been shot by somebody else." Our men took a little of it
and then left it, rather than come into collision with them.
A fine waterbuck was shot in the Kakolole narrows, at Mount Manyerere; it
dropped beside the creek where it was feeding; an enormous crocodile,
that had been watching it at the moment, seized and dragged it into the
water, which was not very deep. The mortally wounded animal made a
desperate plunge, and hauling the crocodile several yards tore itself out
of the hideous jaws. To escape the hunter, the waterbuck jumped into the
river, and was swimming across, when another crocodile gave chase, but a
ball soon sent it to the bottom. The waterbuck swam a little longer, the
fine head dropped, the body turned over, and one of the canoes dragged it
ashore. Below Kakolole, and still at the base of Manyerere mountain,
several coal-seams, not noticed on our ascent, were now seen to crop out
on the right bank of the Zambesi.
Chitora, of Chicova, treated us with his former hospitality. Our men
were all much pleased with his kindness, and certainly did not look upon
it as a proof of weakness. They meant to return his friendliness when
they came this way on a marauding expedition to eat the sheep of the
Banyai, for insulting them in the affair of the hippopotamus; they would
then send word to Chitora not to run away, for they, being his friends,
would do such a good-hearted man no harm.
We entered Kebrabasa rapids, at the east end of Chicova, in the canoes,
and went down a number of miles, until the river narrowed into a groove
of fifty or sixty yards wide, of which we have already spoken in
describing the flood-bed and channel of low water. The navigation then
became difficult and dangerous. A fifteen feet fall of the water in our
absence had developed many cataracts. Two of our canoes passed safely
down a narrow channel, which, bifurcating, had an ugly whirlpool at the
rocky partition between the two branches, the deep hole in the whirls at
times opening and then shutting. The Doctor's canoe came next, and
seemed to be drifting broadside into the open vortex, in spite of the
utmost exertions of the paddlers. The rest were expecting to have to
pull to the rescue; the men saying, "Look where these people are
going!--look, look!"--when a loud crash burst on our ears. Dr. Kirk's
canoe was dashed on a projection of the perpendicular rocks, by a sudden
and mysterious boiling up of the river, which occurs at irregular
intervals. Dr. Kirk was seen resisting the sucking-down action of the
water, which must have been fifteen fathoms deep, and raising himself by
his arms on to the ledge, while his steersman, holding on to the same
rocks, saved the canoe; but nearly all its contents were swept away down
the stream. Dr. Livingstone's canoe, meanwhile, which had distracted the
men's attention, was saved by the cavity in the whirlpool filling up as
the frightful eddy was reached. A few of the things in Dr. Kirk's canoe
were left; but all that was valuable, including a chronometer, a
barometer, and, to our great sorrow, his notes of the journey and
botanical drawings of the fruit-trees of the interior, perished.
We now left the river, and proceeded on foot, sorry that we had not done
so the day before. The men were thoroughly frightened, they had never
seen such perilous navigation. They would carry all the loads, rather
than risk Kebrabasa any longer; but the fatigue of a day's march over the
hot rocks and burning sand changed their tune before night; and then they
regretted having left the canoes; they thought they should have dragged
them past the dangerous places, and then launched them again. One of the
two donkeys died from exhaustion near the Luia. Though the men eat
zebras and quaggas, blood relations of the donkey, they were shocked at
the idea of eating the ass; "it would be like eating man himself, because
the donkey lives with man, and is his bosom companion." We met two large
trading parties of Tette slaves on their way to Zumbo, leading, to be
sold for ivory, a number of Manganja women, with ropes round their necks,
and all made fast to one long rope.
Panzo, the headman of the village east of Kebrabasa, received us with
great kindness. After the usual salutation he went up the hill, and, in
a loud voice, called across the valley to the women of several hamlets to
cook supper for us. About eight in the evening he returned, followed by
a procession of women, bringing the food. There were eight dishes of
nsima, or porridge, six of different sorts of very good wild vegetables,
with dishes of beans and fowls; all deliciously well cooked, and
scrupulously clean. The wooden dishes were nearly as white as the meal
itself: food also was brought for our men. Ripe mangoes, which usually
indicate the vicinity of the Portuguese, were found on the 21st November;
and we reached Tette early on the 23rd, having been absent a little over
six months.
The two English sailors, left in charge of the steamer, were well, had
behaved well, and had enjoyed excellent health all the time we were away.
Their farm had been a failure. We left a few sheep, to be slaughtered
when they wished for fresh meat, and two dozen fowls. Purchasing more,
they soon had double the number of the latter, and anticipated a good
supply of eggs; but they also bought two monkeys, and _they_ ate all the
eggs. A hippopotamus came up one night, and laid waste their vegetable
garden; the sheep broke into their cotton patch, when it was in flower,
and ate it all, except the stems; then the crocodiles carried off the
sheep, and the natives stole the fowls. Nor were they more successful as
gun-smiths: a Portuguese trader, having an exalted opinion of the
ingenuity of English sailors, showed them a double-barrelled rifle, and
inquired if they could put on the _browning_, which had rusted off. "I
think I knows how," said one, whose father was a blacksmith, "it's very
easy; you have only to put the barrels in the fire." A great fire of
wood was made on shore, and the unlucky barrels put over it, to secure
the handsome rifle colour. To Jack's utter amazement the barrels came
asunder. To get out of the scrape, his companion and he stuck the pieces
together with resin, and sent it to the owner, with the message, "It was
all they could do for it, and they would not charge him anything for the
job!" They had also invented an original mode of settling a bargain;
having ascertained the market price of provisions, they paid that, but no
more. If the traders refused to leave the ship till the price was
increased, a chameleon, of which the natives have a mortal dread, was
brought out of the cabin; and the moment the natives saw the creature,
they at once sprang overboard. The chameleon settled every dispute in a
twinkling.
But besides their good-humoured intercourse, they showed humanity worthy
of English sailors. A terrible scream roused them up one night, and they
pushed off in a boat to the rescue. A crocodile had caught a woman, and
was dragging her across a shallow sandbank. Just as they came up to her,
she gave a fearful shriek: the horrid reptile had snapped off her leg at
the knee. They took her on board, bandaged the limb as well as they
could, and, not thinking of any better way of showing their sympathy,
gave her a glass of rum, and carried her to a hut in the village. Next
morning they found the bandages torn off, and the unfortunate creature
left to die. "I believe," remarked Rowe, one of the sailors, "her master
was angry with us for saving her life, seeing as how she had lost her
leg."
The Zambesi being unusually low, we remained at Tette till it rose a
little, and then left on the 3rd of December for the Kongone. It was
hard work to keep the vessel afloat; indeed, we never expected her to
remain above water. New leaks broke out every day; the engine pump gave
way; the bridge broke down; three compartments filled at night; except
the cabin and front compartment all was flooded; and in a few days we
were assured by Rowe that "she can't be worse than she is, sir." He and
Hutchins had spent much of their time, while we were away, in patching
her bottom, puddling it with clay, and shoring it, and it was chiefly to
please them that we again attempted to make use of her. We had long been
fully convinced that the steel plates were thoroughly unsuitable. On the
morning of the 21st the uncomfortable "Asthmatic" grounded on a sandbank
and filled. She could neither be emptied nor got off. The river rose
during the night, and all that was visible of the worn-out craft next day
was about six feet of her two masts. Most of the property we had on
board was saved; and we spent the Christmas of 1860 encamped on the
island of Chimba. Canoes were sent for from Senna; and we reached it on
the 27th, to be again hospitably entertained by our friend, Senhor
Ferrao.
We reached the Kongone on the 4th of January, 1861. A flagstaff and a
Custom-house had been erected during our absence; a hut, also, for a
black lance-corporal and three privates. By the kind permission of the
lance-corporal, who came to see us as soon as he had got into his
trousers and shirt, we took up our quarters in the Custom-house, which,
like the other buildings, is a small square floorless hut of mangrove
stakes overlaid with reeds. The soldiers complained of hunger, they had
nothing to eat but a little mapira, and were making palm wine to deaden
their cravings. While waiting for a ship, we had leisure to read the
newspapers and periodicals we found in the mail which was waiting our
arrival at Tette. Several were a year and a half old.
Our provisions began to run short; and towards the end of the month there
was nothing left but a little bad biscuit and a few ounces of sugar.
Coffee and tea were expended, but scarcely missed, as our sailors
discovered a pretty good substitute in roasted mapira. Fresh meat was
obtained in abundance from our antelope preserves on the large island
made by a creek between the Kongone and East Luabo.
In this focus of decaying vegetation, nothing is so much to be dreaded as
inactivity. We had, therefore, to find what exercise and amusement we
could, when hunting was not required, in peering about in the fetid
swamps; to have gone mooning about, in listless idleness, would have
ensured fever in its worst form, and probably with fatal results.
A curious little blenny-fish swarms in the numerous creeks which
intersect the mangrove topes. When alarmed, it hurries across the
surface of the water in a series of leaps. It may be considered
amphibious, as it lives as much out of the water as in it, and its most
busy time is during low water. Then it appears on the sand or mud, near
the little pools left by the retiring tide; it raises itself on its
pectoral fins into something of a standing attitude, and with its large
projecting eyes keeps a sharp look-out for the light-coloured fly, on
which it feeds. Should the fly alight at too great a distance for even a
second leap, the blenny moves slowly towards it like a cat to its prey,
or like a jumping spider; and, as soon as it gets within two or three
inches of the insect, by a sudden spring contrives to pop its underset
mouth directly over the unlucky victim. He is, moreover, a pugnacious
little fellow; and rather prolonged fights may be observed between him
and his brethren. One, in fleeing from an apparent danger, jumped into a
pool a foot square, which the other evidently regarded as his by right of
prior discovery; in a twinkling the owner, with eyes flashing fury, and
with dorsal fin bristling up in rage, dashed at the intruding foe. The
fight waxed furious, no tempest in a teapot ever equalled the storm of
that miniature sea. The warriors were now in the water, and anon out of
it, for the battle raged on sea and shore. They struck hard, they bit
each other; until, becoming exhausted, they seized each other by the jaws
like two bull-dogs, then paused for breath, and at it again as fiercely
as before, until the combat ended by the precipitate retreat of the
invader.
The muddy ground under the mangrove-trees is covered with soldier-crabs,
which quickly slink into their holes on any symptom of danger. When the
ebbing tide retires, myriads of minute crabs emerge from their
underground quarters, and begin to work like so many busy bees. Soon
many miles of the smooth sand become rough with the results of their
labour. They are toiling for their daily bread: a round bit of moist
sand appears at the little labourer's mouth, and is quickly brushed off
by one of the claws; a second bit follows the first; and another, and
still another come as fast as they can be laid aside. As these pellets
accumulate, the crab moves sideways, and the work continues. The first
impression one receives is, that the little creature has swallowed a
great deal of sand, and is getting rid of it as speedily as possible: a
habit he indulges in of darting into his hole at intervals, as if for
fresh supplies, tends to strengthen this idea; but the size of the heaps
formed in a few seconds shows that this cannot be the case, and leads to
the impression that, although not readily seen, at the distance at which
he chooses to keep the observer, yet that possibly he raises the sand to
his mouth, where whatever animalcule it may contain is sifted out of it,
and the remainder rejected in the manner described. At times the larger
species of crabs perform a sort of concert; and from each subterranean
abode strange sounds arise, as if, in imitation of the songsters of the
groves, for very joy they sang!
We found some natives pounding the woody stems of a poisonous climbing-
plant (_Dirca palustris_) called Busungu, or poison, which grows
abundantly in the swamps. When a good quantity was bruised, it was tied
up in bundles. The stream above and below was obstructed with bushes,
and with a sort of rinsing motion the poison was diffused through the
water. Many fish were soon affected, swain in shore, and died, others
were only stupefied. The plant has pink, pea-shaped blossoms, and
smooth, pointed, glossy leaves, and the brown bark is covered with minute
white points. The knowledge of it might prove of use to a shipwrecked
party by enabling them to catch the fish.
The poison is said to be deleterious to man if the water is drunk; but
not when the fish is cooked. The Busungu is repulsive to some insects,
and is smeared round the shoots of the palm-trees to prevent the ants
from getting into the palm wine while it is dropping from the tops of the
palm-trees into the little pots suspended to collect it.
We were in the habit of walking from our beds into the salt water at
sunrise, for a bath, till a large crocodile appeared at the
bathing-place, and from that time forth we took our dip in the sea, away
from the harbour, about midday. This is said to be unwholesome, but we
did not find it so. It is certainly better not to bathe in the mornings,
when the air is colder than the water--for then, on returning to the
cooler air, one is apt to get a chill and fever. In the mouth of the
river, many saw-fish are found. Rowe saw one while bathing--caught it by
the tail, and shoved it, "snout on," ashore. The saw is from a foot to
eighteen inches long. We never heard of any one being wounded by this
fish; nor, though it goes hundreds of miles up the river in fresh water,
could we learn that it was eaten by the people. The hippopotami
delighted to spend the day among the breakers, and seemed to enjoy the
fun as much as we did.
Severe gales occurred during our stay on the Coast, and many small sea-
birds (_Prion Banksii_, Smith) perished: the beach was strewn with their
dead bodies, and some were found hundreds of yards inland; many were so
emaciated as to dry up without putrefying. We were plagued with myriads
of mosquitoes, and had some touches of fever; the men we brought from
malarious regions of the interior suffered almost as much from it here as
we did ourselves. This gives strength to the idea that the civilized
withstand the evil influences of strange climates better than the
uncivilized. When negroes return to their own country from healthy
lands, they suffer as severely as foreigners ever do.
On the 31st of January, 1861, our new ship, the "Pioneer," arrived from
England, and anchored outside the bar; but the weather was stormy, and
she did not venture in till the 4th of February.
Two of H.M. cruisers came at the same time, bringing Bishop Mackenzie,
and the Oxford and Cambridge Mission to the tribes of the Shire and Lake
Nyassa. The Mission consisted of six Englishmen, and five coloured men
from the Cape. It was a puzzle to know what to do with so many men. The
estimable Bishop, anxious to commence his work without delay, wished the
"Pioneer" to carry the Mission up the Shire, as far as Chibisa's, and
there leave them. But there were grave objections to this. The
"Pioneer" was under orders to explore the Rovuma, as the Portuguese
Government had refused to open the Zambesi to the ships of other nations,
and their officials were very effectually pursuing a system, which, by
abstracting the labour, was rendering the country of no value either to
foreigners or to themselves. She was already two months behind her time,
and the rainy season was half over. Then, if the party were taken to
Chibisa's, the Mission would he left without a medical attendant, in an
unhealthy region, at the beginning of the most sickly season of the year,
and without means of reaching the healthy highlands, or of returning to
the sea. We dreaded that, in the absence of medical aid and all
knowledge of the treatment of fever, there might be a repetition of the
sorrowful fate which befell the similar non-medical Mission at Linyanti.
On the 25th of February the "Pioneer" anchored in the mouth of the
Rovuma, which, unlike most African rivers, has a magnificent bay and no
bar. We wooded, and then waited for the Bishop till the 9th of March,
when he came in the "Lyra." On the 11th we proceeded up the river, and
saw that it had fallen four or five feet during our detention. The
scenery on the lower part of the Rovuma is superior to that on the
Zambesi, for we can see the highlands from the sea. Eight miles from the
mouth the mangroves are left behind, and a beautiful range of well-wooded
hills on each bank begins. On these ridges the tree resembling African
blackwood, of finer grain than ebony, grows abundantly, and attains a
large size. Few people were seen, and those were of Arab breed, and did
not appear to be very well off. The current of the Rovuma was now as
strong as that of the Zambesi, but the volume of water is very much less.
Several of the crossings had barely water enough for our ship, drawing
five feet, to pass. When we were thirty miles up the river, the water
fell suddenly seven inches in twenty-four hours. As the March flood is
the last of the season, and it appeared to be expended, it was thought
prudent to avoid the chance of a year's detention, by getting the ship
back to the sea without delay. Had the Expedition been alone, we would
have pushed up in boats, or afoot, and done what we could towards the
exploration of the river and upper end of the lake; but, though the
Mission was a private one, and entirely distinct from our own, a public
one, the objects of both being similar, we felt anxious to aid our
countrymen in their noble enterprise; and, rather than follow our own
inclination, decided to return to the Shire, see the Mission party
settled safely, and afterwards explore Lake Nyassa and the Rovuma, from
the Lake downwards. Fever broke out on board the "Pioneer," at the mouth
of the Rovuma, as we thought from our having anchored close to a creek
coming out of the mangroves; and it remained in her until we completely
isolated the engine-room from the rest of the ship. The coal-dust
rotting sent out strong effluvia, and kept up the disease for more than a
twelvemonth.
Soon after we started the fever put the "Pioneer" almost entirely into
the hands of the original Zambesi Expedition, and not long afterwards the
leader had to navigate the ocean as well as the river. The habit of
finding the geographical positions on land renders it an easy task to
steer a steamer with only three or four sails at sea; where, if one does
not run ashore, no one follows to find out an error, and where a current
affords a ready excuse for every blunder.
Touching at Mohilla, one of the Comoro Islands, on our return, we found a
mixed race of Arabs, Africans, and their conquerors, the natives of
Madagascar. Being Mahometans, they have mosques and schools, in which we
were pleased to see girls as well as boys taught to read the Koran. The
teacher said he was paid by the job, and received ten dollars for
teaching each child to read. The clever ones learn in six months; but
the dull ones take a couple of years. We next went over to Johanna for
our friends; and, after a sojourn of a few days at the beautiful Comoro
Islands, we sailed for the Kongone mouth of the Zambesi with Bishop
Mackenzie and his party. We reached the coast in seven days, and passed
up the Zambesi to the Shire.
The "Pioneer," constructed under the skilful supervision of Admiral Sir
Baldwin Walker and the late Admiral Washington, warm-hearted and highly
esteemed friends of the Expedition, was a very superior vessel, and well
suited for our work in every respect, except in her draught of water.
Five feet were found to be too much for the navigation of the upper part
of the Shire. Designed to draw three feet only, the weight necessary to
impart extra strength, and fit her for the ocean, brought her down two
feet more, and caused us a great deal of hard and vexatious work, in
laying out anchors, and toiling at the capstan to get her off sandbanks.
We should not have minded this much, but for the heavy loss of time which
might have been more profitably, and infinitely more pleasantly, spent in
intercourse with the people, exploring new regions, and otherwise
carrying out the objects of the Expedition. Once we were a fortnight on
a bank of soft yielding sand, having only two or three inches less water
than the ship drew; this delay was occasioned by the anchors coming home,
and the current swinging the ship broadside on the bank, which,
immediately on our touching, always formed behind us. We did not like to
leave the ship short of Chibisa's, lest the crew should suffer from the
malaria of the lowland around; and it would have been difficult to have
got the Mission goods carried up. We were daily visited by crowds of
natives, who brought us abundance of provisions far beyond our ability to
consume. In hauling the "Pioneer" over the shallow places, the Bishop,
with Horace Waller and Mr. Scudamore, were ever ready and anxious to lend
a hand, and worked as hard as any on board. Had our fine little ship
drawn but three feet, she could have run up and down the river at any
time of the year with the greatest ease, but as it was, having once
passed up over a few shallow banks, it was impossible to take her down
again until the river rose in December. She could go up over a bank, but
not come down over it, as a heap of sand always formed instantly astern,
while the current washed it away from under her bows.
On at last reaching Chibisa's, we heard that there was war in the
Manganja country, and the slave-trade was going on briskly. A deputation
from a chief near Mount Zomba had just passed on its way to Chibisa, who
was in a distant village, to implore him to come himself, or send
medicine, to drive off the Waiao, Waiau, or Ajawa, whose marauding
parties were desolating the land. A large gang of recently enslaved
Manganja crossed the river, on their way to Tette, a few days before we
got the ship up. Chibisa's deputy was civil, and readily gave us
permission to hire as many men to carry the Bishop's goods up to the
hills as were willing to go. With a sufficient number, therefore, we
started for the highlands on the 15th of July, to show the Bishop the
country, which, from its altitude and coolness, was most suitable for a
station. Our first day's march was a long and fatiguing one. The few
hamlets we passed were poor, and had no food for our men, and we were
obliged to go on till 4 p.m., when we entered the small village of
Chipindu. The inhabitants complained of hunger, and said they had no
food to sell, and no hut for us to sleep in; but, if we would only go on
a little further, we should come to a village where they had plenty to
eat; but we had travelled far enough, and determined to remain where we
were. Before sunset as much food was brought as we cared to purchase,
and, as it threatened to rain, huts were provided for the whole party.
Next forenoon we halted at the village of our old friend Mbame, to obtain
new carriers, because Chibisa's men, never before having been hired, and
not having yet learned to trust us, did not choose to go further. After
resting a little, Mbame told us that a slave party on its way to Tette
would presently pass through his village. "Shall we interfere?" we
inquired of each other. We remembered that all our valuable private
baggage was in Tette, which, if we freed the slaves, might, together with
some Government property, be destroyed in retaliation; but this system of
slave-hunters dogging us where previously they durst not venture, and, on
pretence of being "our children," setting one tribe against another, to
furnish themselves with slaves, would so inevitably thwart all the
efforts, for which we had the sanction of the Portuguese Government, that
we resolved to run all risks, and put a stop, if possible, to the slave-
trade, which had now followed on the footsteps of our discoveries. A few
minutes after Mbame had spoken to us, the slave party, a long line of
manacled men, women, and children, came wending their way round the hill
and into the valley, on the side of which the village stood. The black
drivers, armed with muskets, and bedecked with various articles of
finery, marched jauntily in the front, middle, and rear of the line; some
of them blowing exultant notes out of long tin horns. They seemed to
feel that they were doing a very noble thing, and might proudly march
with an air of triumph. But the instant the fellows caught a glimpse of
the English, they darted off like mad into the forest; so fast, indeed,
that we caught but a glimpse of their red caps and the soles of their
feet. The chief of the party alone remained; and he, from being in
front, had his hand tightly grasped by a Makololo! He proved to be a
well-known slave of the late Commandant at Tette, and for some time our
own attendant while there. On asking him how he obtained these captives,
he replied he had bought them; but on our inquiring of the people
themselves, all, save four, said they had been captured in war. While
this inquiry was going on, he bolted too. The captives knelt down, and,
in their way of expressing thanks, clapped their hands with great energy.
They were thus left entirely on our hands, and knives were soon busy at
work cutting the women and children loose. It was more difficult to cut
the men adrift, as each had his neck in the fork of a stout stick, six or
seven feet long, and was kept in by an iron rod which was riveted at both
ends across the throat. With a saw, luckily in the Bishop's baggage, one
by one the men were sawn out into freedom. The women, on being told to
take the meal they were carrying and cook breakfast for themselves and
the children, seemed to consider the news too good to be true; but after
a little coaxing went at it with alacrity, and made a capital fire by
which to boil their pots with the slave sticks and bonds, their old
acquaintances through many a sad night and weary day. Many were mere
children about five years of age and under. One little boy, with the
simplicity of childhood, said to our men, "The others tied and starved
us, you cut the ropes and tell us to eat; what sort of people are
you?--Where did you come from?" Two of the women had been shot the day
before for attempting to untie the thongs. This, the rest were told, was
to prevent them from attempting to escape. One woman had her infant's
brains knocked out, because she could not carry her load and it. And a
man was dispatched with an axe, because he had broken down with fatigue.
Self-interest would have set a watch over the whole rather than commit
murder; but in this traffic we invariably find self-interest overcome by
contempt of human life and by bloodthirstiness.
The Bishop was not present at this scene, having gone to bathe in a
little stream below the village; but on his return he warmly approved of
what had been done; he at first had doubts, but now felt that, had he
been present, he would have joined us in the good work. Logic is out of
place when the question with a true-hearted man is, whether his brother
man is to be saved or not. Eighty-four, chiefly women and children, were
liberated; and on being told that they were now free, and might go where
they pleased, or remain with us, they all chose to stay; and the Bishop
wisely attached them to his Mission, to be educated as members of a
Christian family. In this way a great difficulty in the commencement of
a Mission was overcome. Years are usually required before confidence is
so far instilled into the natives' mind as to induce them, young or old,
to submit to the guidance of strangers professing to be actuated by
motives the reverse of worldly wisdom, and inculcating customs strange
and unknown to them and their fathers.
We proceeded next morning to Soche's with our liberated party, the men
cheerfully carrying the Bishop's goods. As we had begun, it was of no
use to do things by halves, so eight others were freed in a hamlet on our
path; but a party of traders, with nearly a hundred slaves, fled from
Soche's on hearing of our proceedings. Dr. Kirk and four Makololo
followed them with great energy, but they made clear off to Tette. Six
more captives were liberated at Mongazi's, and two slave-traders detained
for the night, to prevent them from carrying information to a large party
still in front. Of their own accord they volunteered the information
that the Governor's servants had charge of the next party; but we did not
choose to be led by them, though they offered to guide us to his
Excellency's own agents. Two of the Bishop's black men from the Cape,
having once been slaves, were now zealous emancipators, and volunteered
to guard the prisoners during the night. So anxious were our heroes to
keep them safe, that instead of relieving each other, by keeping watch
and watch, both kept watch together, till towards four o'clock in the
morning, when sleep stole gently over them both; and the wakeful
prisoners, seizing the opportunity, escaped: one of the guards,
perceiving the loss, rushed out of the hut, shouting, "They are gone, the
prisoners are off, and they have taken my rifle with them, and the women
too! Fire! everybody fire!" The rifle and the women, however, were all
safe enough, the slave-traders being only too glad to escape alone. Fifty
more slaves were freed next day in another village; and, the whole party
being stark-naked, cloth enough was left to clothe them, better probably
than they had ever been clothed before. The head of this gang, whom we
knew as the agent of one of the principal merchants of Tette, said that
they had the license of the Governor for all they did. This we were
fully aware of without his stating it. It is quite impossible for any
enterprise to be undertaken there without the Governor's knowledge and
connivance.
The portion of the highlands which the Bishop wished to look at before
deciding on a settlement belonged to Chiwawa, or Chibaba, the most manly
and generous Manganja chief we had met with on our previous journey. On
reaching Nsambo's, near Mount Chiradzuru, we heard that Chibaba was dead,
and that Chigunda was chief instead. Chigunda, apparently of his own
accord, though possibly he may have learnt that the Bishop intended to
settle somewhere in the country, asked him to come and live with him at
Magomero, adding that there was room enough for both. This hearty and
spontaneous invitation had considerable influence on the Bishop's mind,
and seemed to decide the question. A place nearer the Shire would have
been chosen had he expected his supplies to come up that river; but the
Portuguese, claiming the river Shire, though never occupying even its
mouth, had closed it, as well as the Zambesi.
Our hopes were turned to the Rovuma, as a free highway into Lake Nyassa
and the vast interior. A steamer was already ordered for the Lake, and
the Bishop, seeing the advantageous nature of the highlands which stretch
an immense way to the north, was more anxious to be near the Lake and the
Rovuma, than the Shire. When he decided to settle at Magomero, it was
thought desirable, to prevent the country from being depopulated, to
visit the Ajawa chief, and to try and persuade him to give up his slaving
and kidnapping courses, and turn the energies of his people to peaceful
pursuits.
On the morning of the 22nd we were informed that the Ajawa were near, and
were burning a village a few miles off. Leaving the rescued slaves, we
moved off to seek an interview with these scourges of the country. On
our way we met crowds of Manganja fleeing from the war in front. These
poor fugitives from the slave hunt had, as usual, to leave all the food
they possessed, except the little they could carry on their heads. We
passed field after field of Indian corn or beans, standing ripe for
harvesting, but the owners were away. The villages were all deserted:
one where we breakfasted two years before, and saw a number of men
peacefully weaving cloth, and, among ourselves, called it the "Paisley of
the hills," was burnt; the stores of corn were poured out in cartloads,
and scattered all over the plain, and all along the paths, neither
conquerors nor conquered having been able to convey it away. About two
o'clock we saw the smoke of burning villages, and heard triumphant
shouts, mingled with the wail of the Manganja women, lamenting over their
slain. The Bishop then engaged us in fervent prayer; and, on rising from
our knees, we saw a long line of Ajawa warriors, with their captives,
coming round the hill-side. The first of the returning conquerors were
entering their own village below, and we heard women welcoming them back
with "lillilooings." The Ajawa headman left the path on seeing us, and
stood on an anthill to obtain a complete view of our party. We called
out that we had come to have an interview with them, but some of the
Manganja who followed us shouted "Our Chibisa is come:" Chibisa being
well known as a great conjurer and general. The Ajawa ran off yelling
and screaming, "Nkondo! Nkondo!" (War! War!) We heard the words of the
Manganja, but they did not strike us at the moment as neutralizing all
our assertions of peace. The captives threw down their loads on the
path, and fled to the hills: and a large body of armed men came running
up from the village, and in a few seconds they were all around us, though
mostly concealed by the projecting rocks and long grass. In vain we
protested that we had not come to fight, but to talk with them. They
would not listen, having, as we remembered afterwards, good reason, in
the cry of "Our Chibisa." Flushed with recent victory over three
villages, and confident of an easy triumph over a mere handful of men,
they began to shoot their poisoned arrows, sending them with great force
upwards of a hundred yards, and wounding one of our followers through the
arm. Our retiring slowly up the ascent from the village only made them
more eager to prevent our escape; and, in the belief that this retreat
was evidence of fear, they closed upon us in bloodthirsty fury. Some
came within fifty yards, dancing hideously; others having quite
surrounded us, and availing themselves of the rocks and long grass hard
by, were intent on cutting us off, while others made off with their women
and a large body of slaves. Four were armed with muskets, and we were
obliged in self-defence to return their fire and drive them off. When
they saw the range of rifles, they very soon desisted, and ran away; but
some shouted to us from the hills the consoling intimation, that they
would follow, and kill us where we slept. Only two of the captives
escaped to us, but probably most of those made prisoners that day fled
elsewhere in the confusion. We returned to the village which we had left
in the morning, after a hungry, fatiguing, and most unpleasant day.
Though we could not blame ourselves for the course we had followed, we
felt sorry for what had happened. It was the first time we had ever been
attacked by the natives or come into collision with them; though we had
always taken it for granted that we might be called upon to act in self-
defence, we were on this occasion less prepared than usual, no game
having been expected here. The men had only a single round of cartridge
each; their leader had no revolver, and the rifle he usually fired with
was left at the ship to save it from the damp of the season. Had we
known better the effect of slavery and murder on the temper of these
bloodthirsty marauders, we should have tried messages and presents before
going near them.
The old chief, Chinsunse, came on a visit to us next day, and pressed the
Bishop to come and live with him. "Chigunda," he said, "is but a child,
and the Bishop ought to live with the father rather than with the child."
But the old man's object was so evidently to have the Mission as a shield
against the Ajawa, that his invitation was declined. While begging us to
drive away the marauders, that he might live in peace, he adopted the
stratagem of causing a number of his men to rush into the village, in
breathless haste, with the news that the Ajawa were close upon us. And
having been reminded that we never fought, unless attacked, as we were
the day before, and that we had come among them for the purpose of
promoting peace, and of teaching them to worship the Supreme, to give up
selling His children, and to cultivate other objects for barter than each
other, he replied, in a huff, "Then I am dead already."
The Bishop, feeling, as most Englishmen would, at the prospect of the
people now in his charge being swept off into slavery by hordes of men-
stealers, proposed to go at once to the rescue of the captive Manganja,
and drive the marauding Ajawa out of the country. All were warmly in
favour of this, save Dr. Livingstone, who opposed it on the ground that
it would be better for the Bishop to wait, and see the effect of the
check the slave-hunters had just experienced. The Ajawa were evidently
goaded on by Portuguese agents from Tette, and there was no bond of union
among the Manganja on which to work. It was possible that the Ajawa
might be persuaded to something better, though, from having long been in
the habit of slaving for the Quillimane market, it was not very probable.
But the Manganja could easily be overcome piecemeal by any enemy; old
feuds made them glad to see calamities befall their next neighbours. We
counselled them to unite against the common enemies of their country, and
added distinctly that we English would on no account enter into their
quarrels. On the Bishop inquiring whether, in the event of the Manganja
again asking aid against the Ajawa, it would be his duty to accede to
their request,--"No," replied Dr. Livingstone, "you will be oppressed by
their importunities, but do not interfere in native quarrels." This
advice the good man honourably mentions in his journal. We have been
rather minute in relating what occurred during the few days of our
connection with the Mission of the English Universities, on the hills,
because, the recorded advice having been discarded, blame was thrown on
Dr. Livingstone's shoulders, as if the missionaries had no individual
responsibility for their subsequent conduct. This, unquestionably, good
Bishop Mackenzie had too much manliness to have allowed. The connection
of the members of the Zambesi Expedition, with the acts of the Bishop's
Mission, now ceased, for we returned to the ship and prepared for our
journey to Lake Nyassa. We cheerfully, if necessary, will bear all
responsibility up to this point; and if the Bishop afterwards made
mistakes in certain collisions with the slavers, he had the votes of all
his party with him, and those who best knew the peculiar circumstances,
and the loving disposition of this good-hearted man, will blame him
least. In this position, and in these circumstances, we left our friends
at the Mission Station.
As a temporary measure the Bishop decided to place his Mission Station on
a small promontory formed by the windings of the little, clear stream of
Magomero, which was so cold that the limbs were quite benumbed by washing
in it in the July mornings. The site chosen was a pleasant spot to the
eye, and completely surrounded by stately, shady trees. It was expected
to serve for a residence, till the Bishop had acquired an accurate
knowledge of the adjacent country, and of the political relations of the
people, and could select a healthy and commanding situation, as a
permanent centre of Christian civilization. Everything promised fairly.
The weather was delightful, resembling the pleasantest part of an English
summer; provisions poured in very cheap and in great abundance. The
Bishop, with characteristic ardour, commenced learning the language, Mr.
Waller began building, and Mr. Scudamore improvised a sort of infant
school for the children, than which there is no better means for
acquiring an unwritten tongue.
On the 6th of August, 1861, a few days after returning from Magomero,
Drs. Livingstone and Kirk, and Charles Livingstone started for Nyassa
with a light four-oared gig, a white sailor, and a score of attendants.
We hired people along the path to carry the boat past the forty miles of
the Murchison Cataracts for a cubit of cotton cloth a day. This being
deemed great wages, more than twice the men required eagerly offered
their services. The chief difficulty was in limiting their numbers.
Crowds followed us; and, had we not taken down in the morning the names
of the porters engaged, in the evening claims would have been made by
those who only helped during the last ten minutes of the journey. The
men of one village carried the boat to the next, and all we had to do was
to tell the headman that we wanted fresh men in the morning. He saw us
pay the first party, and had his men ready at the time appointed, so
there was no delay in waiting for carriers. They often make a loud noise
when carrying heavy loads, but talking and bawling does not put them out
of breath. The country was rough and with little soil on it, but covered
with grass and open forest. A few small trees were cut down to clear a
path for our shouting assistants, who were good enough to consider the
boat as a certificate of peaceful intentions at least to them. Several
small streams were passed, the largest of which were the Mukuru-Madse and
Lesungwe. The inhabitants on both banks were now civil and obliging. Our
possession of a boat, and consequent power of crossing independently of
the canoes, helped to develop their good manners, which were not apparent
on our previous visit.
There is often a surprising contrast between neighbouring villages. One
is well off and thriving, having good huts, plenty of food, and native
cloth; and its people are frank, trusty, generous, and eager to sell
provisions; while in the next the inhabitants may be ill-housed,
disobliging, suspicious, ill-fed, and scantily clad, and with nothing for
sale, though the land around is as fertile as that of their wealthier
neighbours. We followed the river for the most part to avail ourselves
of the still reaches for sailing; but a comparatively smooth country lies
further inland, over which a good road could be made. Some of the five
main cataracts are very grand, the river falling 1200 feet in the 40
miles. After passing the last of the cataracts, we launched our boat for
good on the broad and deep waters of the Upper Shire, and were virtually
on the lake, for the gentle current shows but little difference of level.
The bed is broad and deep, but the course is rather tortuous at first,
and makes a long bend to the east till it comes within five or six miles
of the base of Mount Zomba. The natives regarded the Upper Shire as a
prolongation of Lake Nyassa; for where what we called the river
approaches Lake Shirwa, a little north of the mountains, they said that
the hippopotami, "which are great night travellers," pass from _one lake
into the other_. There the land is flat, and only a short land journey
would be necessary. Seldom does the current here exceed a knot an hour,
while that of the Lower Shire is from two to two-and-a-half knots. Our
land party of Makololo accompanied us along the right bank, and passed
thousands of Manganja fugitives living in temporary huts on that side,
who had recently been driven from their villages on the opposite hills by
the Ajawa.
The soil was dry and hard, and covered with mopane-trees; but some of the
Manganja were busy hoeing the ground and planting the little corn they
had brought with them. The effects of hunger were already visible on
those whose food had been seized or burned by the Ajawa and Portuguese
slave-traders. The spokesman or prime minister of one of the chiefs,
named Kalonjere, was a humpbacked dwarf, a fluent speaker, who tried hard
to make us go over and drive off the Ajawa; but he could not deny that by
selling people Kalonjere had invited these slave-hunters to the country.
This is the second humpbacked dwarf we have found occupying the like
important post, the other was the prime minister of a Batonga chief on
the Zambesi.
As we sailed along, we disturbed many white-breasted cormorants; we had
seen the same species fishing between the cataracts. Here, with many
other wild-fowls, they find subsistence on the smooth water by night, and
sit sleepily on trees and in the reeds by day. Many hippopotami were
seen in the river, and one of them stretched its wide jaws, as if to
swallow the whole stern of the boat, close to Dr. Kirk's back; the animal
was so near that, in opening its mouth, it lashed a quantity of water on
to the stern-sheets, but did no damage. To avoid large marauding parties
of Ajawa, on the left bank of the Shire, we continued on the right, or
western side, with our land party, along the shore of the small lake
Pamalombe. This lakelet is ten or twelve miles in length, and five or
six broad. It is nearly surrounded by a broad belt of papyrus, so dense
that we could scarcely find an opening to the shore. The plants, ten or
twelve feet high, grew so closely together that air was excluded, and so
much sulphuretted hydrogen gas evolved that by one night's exposure the
bottom of the boat was blackened. Myriads of mosquitoes showed, as
probably they always do, the presence of malaria.
We hastened from this sickly spot, trying to take the attentions of the
mosquitoes as hints to seek more pleasant quarters on the healthy shores
of Lake Nyassa; and when we sailed into it, on the 2nd September, we felt
refreshed by the greater coolness of the air off this large body of
water. The depth was the first point of interest. This is indicated by
the colour of the water, which, on a belt along the shore, varying from a
quarter to half a mile in breadth, is light green, and this is met by the
deep blue or indigo tint of the Indian Ocean, which is the colour of the
great body of Nyassa. We found the Upper Shire from nine to fifteen feet
in depth; but skirting the western side of the lake about a mile from the
shore the water deepened from nine to fifteen fathoms; then, as we
rounded the grand mountainous promontory, which we named Cape Maclear,
after our excellent friend the Astronomer Royal at the Cape of Good Hope,
we could get no bottom with our lead-line of thirty-five fathoms. We
pulled along the western shore, which was a succession of bays, and found
that where the bottom was sandy near the beach, and to a mile out, the
depth varied from six to fourteen fathoms. In a rocky bay about latitude
11 degrees 40 minutes we had soundings at 100 fathoms, though outside the
same bay we found none with a fishing-line of 116 fathoms; but this cast
was unsatisfactory, as the line broke in coming up. According to our
present knowledge, a ship could anchor only near the shore.
Looking back to the southern end of Lake Nyassa, the arm from which the
Shire flows was found to be about thirty miles long and from ten to
twelve broad. Rounding Cape Maclear, and looking to the south-west, we
have another arm, which stretches some eighteen miles southward, and is
from six to twelve miles in breadth. These arms give the southern end a
forked appearance, and with the help of a little imagination it may be
likened to the "boot-shape" of Italy. The narrowest part is about the
ankle, eighteen or twenty miles. From this it widens to the north, and
in the upper third or fourth it is fifty or sixty miles broad. The
length is over 200 miles. The direction in which it lies is as near as
possible due north and south. Nothing of the great bend to the west,
shown in all the previous maps, could be detected by either compass or
chronometer, and the watch we used was an excellent one. The season of
the year was very unfavourable. The "smokes" filled the air with an
impenetrable haze, and the equinoctial gales made it impossible for us to
cross to the eastern side. When we caught a glimpse of the sun rising
from behind the mountains to the east, we made sketches and bearings of
them at different latitudes, which enabled us to secure approximate
measurements of the width. These agreed with the times taken by the
natives at the different crossing-places--as Tsenga and Molamba. About
the beginning of the upper third the lake is crossed by taking advantage
of the island Chizumara, which name in the native tongue means the
"ending;" further north they go round the end instead, though that takes
several days.
The lake appeared to be surrounded by mountains, but it was afterwards
found that these beautiful tree-covered heights were, on the west, only
the edges of high table-lands. Like all narrow seas encircled by
highlands, it is visited by sudden and tremendous storms. We were on it
in September and October, perhaps the stormiest season of the year, and
were repeatedly detained by gales. At times, while sailing pleasantly
over the blue water with a gentle breeze, suddenly and without any
warning was heard the sound of a coming storm, roaring on with crowds of
angry waves in its wake. We were caught one morning with the sea
breaking all around us, and, unable either to advance or recede, anchored
a mile from shore, in seven fathoms. The furious surf on the beach would
have shivered our boat to atoms, had we tried to land. The waves most
dreaded came rolling on in threes, with their crests, driven into spray,
streaming behind them. A short lull followed each triple charge. Had
one of these seas struck our boat, nothing could have saved us; for they
came on with resistless force; seaward, in shore, and on either side of
us, they broke in foam, but we escaped. For six weary hours we faced
those terrible trios. A low, dark, detached, oddly shaped cloud came
slowly from the mountains, and hung for hours directly over our heads. A
flock of night-jars (_Cometornis vexillarius_), which on no other
occasion come out by day, soared above us in the gale, like birds of evil
omen. Our black crew became sea-sick and unable to sit up or keep the
boat's head to the sea. The natives and our land party stood on the high
cliffs looking at us and exclaiming, as the waves seemed to swallow up
the boat, "They are lost! they are all dead!" When at last the gale
moderated and we got safely ashore, they saluted us warmly, as after a
long absence. From this time we trusted implicitly to the opinions of
our seaman, John Neil, who, having been a fisherman on the coast of
Ireland, understood boating on a stormy coast, and by his advice we often
sat cowering on the land for days together waiting for the surf to go
down. He had never seen such waves before. We had to beach the boat
every night to save her from being swamped at anchor; and, did we not
believe the gales to be peculiar to one season of the year, would call
Nyassa the "Lake of Storms."
Distinct white marks on the rocks showed that, for some time during the
rainy season, the water of the lake is three feet above the point to
which it falls towards the close of the dry period of the year. The
rains begin here in November, and the permanent rise of the Shire does
not take place till January. The western side of Lake Nyassa, with the
exception of the great harbour to the west of Cape Maclear, is, as has
been said before, a succession of small bays of nearly similar form, each
having an open sandy beach and pebbly shore, and being separated from its
neighbour by a rocky headland, with detached rocks extending some
distance out to sea. The great south-western bay referred to would form
a magnificent harbour, the only really good one we saw to the west.
The land immediately adjacent to the lake is low and fertile, though in
some places marshy and tenanted by large flocks of ducks, geese, herons,
crowned cranes, and other birds. In the southern parts we have sometimes
ten or a dozen miles of rich plains, bordered by what seem high ranges of
well-wooded hills, running nearly parallel with the lake. Northwards the
mountains become loftier and present some magnificent views, range
towering beyond range, until the dim, lofty outlines projected against
the sky bound the prospect. Still further north the plain becomes more
narrow, until, near where we turned, it disappears altogether, and the
mountains rise abruptly out of the lake, forming the north-east boundary
of what was described to us as an extensive table-land; well suited for
pasturage and agriculture, and now only partially occupied by a tribe of
Zulus, who came from the south some years ago. These people own large
herds of cattle, and are constantly increasing in numbers by annexing
other tribes.