Important geographical discoveries in the Wabisa countries--Cruelty of
the slave-trade--The Mazitu--Serious illness of Dr. Livingstone--Return
to the ship.
In our course westwards, we at first passed over a gently undulating
country, with a reddish clayey soil, which, from the heavy crops,
appeared to be very fertile. Many rivulets were crossed, some running
southwards into the Bua, and others northwards into the Loangwa, a river
which we formerly saw flowing into the Lake. Further on, the water was
chiefly found in pools and wells. Then still further, in the same
direction, some watercourses were said to flow into that same "Loangwa of
the Lake," and others into the Loangwa, which flows to the south-west,
and enters the Zambesi at Zumbo, and is here called the "Loangwa of the
Maravi." The trees were in general scraggy, and covered, exactly as they
are in the damp climate of the Coast, with lichens, resembling orchilla-
weed. The maize, which loves rather a damp soil, had been planted on
ridges to allow the superfluous moisture to run off. Everything
indicated a very humid climate, and the people warned us that, as the
rains were near, we were likely to be prevented from returning by the
country becoming flooded and impassable.
Villages, as usual encircled by euphorbia hedges, were numerous, and a
great deal of grain had been cultivated around them. Domestic fowls, in
plenty, and pigeons with dovecots like those in Egypt were seen. The
people call themselves Matumboka, but the only difference between them
and the rest of the Manganja is in the mode of tattooing the face. Their
language is the same. Their distinctive mark consists of four tattooed
lines diverging from the point between the eyebrows, which, in frowning,
the muscles form into a furrow. The other lines of tattooing, as in all
Manganja, run in long seams, which crossing each other at certain angles
form a great number of triangular spaces on the breast, back, arms, and
thighs. The cuticle is divided by a knife, and the edges of the incision
are drawn apart till the true skin appears. By a repetition of this
process, lines of raised cicatrices are formed, which are thought to give
beauty, no matter how much pain the fashion gives.
It would not be worth while to advert for a moment to the routine of
travelling, or the little difficulties that beset every one who attempts
to penetrate into a new country, were it not to show the great source of
the power here possessed by slave-traders. We needed help in carrying
our goods, while our men were ill, though still able to march. When we
had settled with others for hire, we were often told, that the dealers in
men had taken possession of some, and had taken them away altogether.
Other things led us to believe that the slave-traders carry matters with
a high hand; and no wonder, for the possession of gunpowder gives them
almost absolute power. The mode by which tribes armed with bows and
arrows carry on warfare, or defend themselves, is by ambuscade. They
never come out in open fight, but wait for the enemy ensconced behind
trees, or in the long grass of the country, and shoot at him unawares.
Consequently, if men come against them with firearms, when, as is usually
the case, the long grass is all burned off, the tribe attacked are as
helpless as a wooden ship, possessing only signal guns, would be before
an iron-clad steamer. The time of year selected for this kind of warfare
is nearly always that in which the grass is actually burnt off, or is so
dry as readily to take fire. The dry grass in Africa looks more like
ripe English wheat late in the autumn, than anything else we can compare
it to. Let us imagine an English village standing in a field of this
sort, bounded only by the horizon, and enemies setting fire to a line of
a mile or two, by running along with bunches of burning straw in their
hands, touching here and there the inflammable material,--the wind
blowing towards the doomed village--the inhabitants with only one or two
old muskets, but ten to one no powder,--the long line of flames, leaping
thirty feet into the air with dense masses of black smoke--and pieces of
charred grass falling down in showers. Would not the stoutest English
villager, armed only with the bow and arrow against the enemy's musket,
quail at the idea of breaking through that wall of fire? When at a
distance, we once saw a scene like this, and had the charred grass,
literally as thick as flakes of black snow, falling around us, there was
no difficulty in understanding the secret of the slave-trader's power.
On the 21st of September, we arrived at the village of the chief Muasi,
or Muazi; it is surrounded by a stockade, and embowered in very tall
euphorbia-trees; their height, thirty or forty feet, shows that it has
been inhabited for at least one generation. A visitation of disease or
death causes the headmen to change the site of their villages, and plant
new hedges; but, though Muazi has suffered from the attacks of the
Mazitu, he has evidently clung to his birthplace. The village is
situated about two miles south-west of a high hill called Kasungu, which
gives the name to a district extending to the Loangwa of the Maravi.
Several other detached granite hills have been shot up on the plain, and
many stockaded villages, all owing allegiance to Muazi, are scattered
over it.
On our arrival, the chief was sitting in the smooth shady place, called
Boalo, where all public business is transacted, with about two hundred
men and boys around him. We paid our guides with due ostentation.
Masiko, the tallest of our party, measured off the fathom of cloth agreed
upon, and made it appear as long as possible, by facing round to the
crowd, and cutting a few inches beyond what his outstretched arms could
reach, to show that there was no deception. This was by way of
advertisement. The people are mightily gratified at having a tall fellow
to measure the cloth for them. It pleases them even better than cutting
it by a tape-line--though very few men of six feet high can measure off
their own length with their outstretched arms. Here, where Arab traders
have been, the cubit called _mokono_, or elbow, begins to take the place
of the fathom in use further south. The measure is taken from the point
of the bent elbow to the end of the middle finger.
We found, on visiting Muazi on the following day, that he was as frank
and straightforward as could reasonably be expected. He did not wish us
to go to the N.N.W., because he carries on a considerable trade in ivory
there. We were anxious to get off the slave route, to people not visited
before by traders; but Muazi naturally feared, that if we went to what is
said to be a well-watered country, abounding in elephants, we might
relieve him of the ivory which he now obtains at a cheap rate, and sells
to the slave-traders as they pass Kasungu to the east; but at last he
consented, warning us that "great difficulty would be experienced in
obtaining food--a district had been depopulated by slave wars--and a
night or two must be spent in it; but he would give us good guides, who
would go three days with us, before turning, and then further progress
must depend on ourselves." Some of our men having been ill ever since we
mounted this highland plain, we remained two days with Muazi.
A herd of fine cattle showed that no tsetse existed in the district. They
had the Indian hump, and were very fat, and very tame. The boys rode on
both cows and bulls without fear, and the animals were so fat and lazy,
that the old ones only made a feeble attempt to kick their young
tormentors. Muazi never milks the cows; he complained that, but for the
Mazitu having formerly captured some, he should now have had very many.
They wander over the country at large, and certainly thrive.
After leaving Muazi's, we passed over a flat country sparsely covered
with the scraggy upland trees, but brightened with many fine flowers. The
grass was short, reaching no higher than the knee, and growing in tufts
with bare spaces between, though the trees were draped with many various
lichens, and showed a moist climate. A high and very sharp wind blew
over the flats; its piercing keenness was not caused by low temperature,
for the thermometer stood at 80 degrees.
We were now on the sources of the Loangwa of the Maravi, which enters the
Zambesi at Zumbo, and were struck by the great resemblance which the
boggy and sedgy streams here presented to the sources of the Leeba, an
affluent of the Zambesi formerly observed in Londa, and of the Kasai,
which some believe to be the principal branch of the Congo or Zaire.
We had taken pains to ascertain from the travelled Babisa and Arabs as
much as possible about the country in front, which, from the lessening
time we had at our disposal, we feared we could scarcely reach, and had
heard a good deal of a small lake called Bemba. As we proceeded west, we
passed over the sources not only of the Loangwa, but of another stream,
called Moitawa or Moitala, which was represented to be the main feeder of
Lake Bemba. This would be of little importance, but for the fact that
the considerable river Luapula, or Loapula is said to flow out of Bemba
to the westward, and then to spread out into another and much larger
lake, named Moero, or Moelo. Flowing still further in the same
direction, the Loapula forms Lake Mofue, or Mofu, and after this it is
said to pass the town of Cazembe, bend to the north, and enter Lake
Tanganyika. Whither the water went after it entered the last lake, no
one would venture an assertion. But that the course indicated is the
true watershed of that part of the country, we believe from the unvarying
opinion of native travellers. There could be no doubt that our
informants had been in the country beyond Cazembe's, for they knew and
described chiefs whom we afterwards met about thirty-five or forty miles
west of his town. The Lualaba is said to flow into the Loapula--and
when, for the sake of testing the accuracy of the travelled, it was
asserted that all the water of the region round the town of Cazembe
flowed into the Luambadzi, or Luambezi (Zambesi), they remarked with a
smile, "He says, that the Loapula flows into the Zambesi--did you ever
hear such nonsense?" or words to that effect. We were forced to admit,
that according to native accounts, our previous impression of the
Zambesi's draining the country about Cazembe's had been a mistake. Their
geographical opinions are now only stated, without any further comment
than that the itinerary given by the Arabs and others shows that the
Loapula is twice crossed on the way to Cazembe's; and we may add that we
have never found any difficulty from the alleged incapacity of the negro
to tell which way a river flows.
The boiling-point of water showed a descent, from the edge of the plateau
to our furthest point west, of 170 feet; but this can only be considered
as an approximation, and no dependence could have been placed on it, had
we not had the courses of the streams to confirm this rather rough mode
of ascertaining altitudes. The slope, as shown by the watershed, was to
the "Loangwa of the Maravi," and towards the Moitala, or south-west,
west, and north-west. After we leave the feeders of Lake Nyassa, the
water drains towards the centre of the continent. The course of the
Kasai, a river seen during Dr. Livingstone's journey to the West Coast,
and its feeders was to the north-east, or somewhat in the same direction.
Whether the water thus drained off finds its way out by the Congo, or by
the Nile, has not yet been ascertained. Some parts of the continent have
been said to resemble an inverted dinner-plate. This portion seems more
of the shape, if shape it has, of a wide-awake hat, with the crown a
little depressed. The altitude of the brim in some parts is
considerable; in others, as at Tette and the bottom of Murchison's
Cataracts, it is so small that it could be ascertained only by
eliminating the daily variations of the barometer, by simultaneous
observations on the Coast, and at points some two or three hundred miles
inland. So long as African rivers remain in what we may call the brim,
they present no obstructions; but no sooner do they emerge from the
higher lands than their utility is impaired by cataracts. The low lying
belt is very irregular. At times sloping up in the manner of the rim of
an inverted dinner-plate--while in other cases, a high ridge rises near
the sea, to be succeeded by a lower district inland before we reach the
central plateau. The breadth of the low lands is sometimes as much as
three hundred miles, and that breadth determines the limits of navigation
from the seaward.
We made three long marches beyond Muazi's in a north-westerly direction;
the people were civil enough, but refused to sell us any food. We were
travelling too fast, they said; in fact, they were startled, and before
they recovered their surprise, we were obliged to depart. We suspected
that Muazi had sent them orders to refuse us food, that we might thus be
prevented from going into the depopulated district; but this may have
been mere suspicion, the result of our own uncharitable feelings.
We spent one night at Machambwe's village, and another at Chimbuzi's. It
is seldom that we can find the headman on first entering a village. He
gets out of the way till he has heard all about the strangers, or he is
actually out in the fields looking after his farms. We once thought that
when the headman came in from a visit of inspection, with his spear, bow
and arrows, they had been all taken up for the occasion, and that he had
all the while been hidden in some hut slily watching till he heard that
the strangers might be trusted; but on listening to the details given by
these men of the appearances of the crops at different parts, and the
astonishing minuteness of the speakers' topography, we were persuaded
that in some cases we were wrong, and felt rather humiliated. Every
knoll, hill, mountain, and every peak on a range has a name; and so has
every watercourse, dell, and plain. In fact, every feature and portion
of the country is so minutely distinguished by appropriate names, that it
would take a lifetime to decipher their meaning. It is not the want, but
the superabundance of names that misleads travellers, and the terms used
are so multifarious that good scholars will at times scarcely know more
than the subject of conversation. Though it is a little apart from the
topic of the attention which the headmen pay to agriculture, yet it may
be here mentioned, while speaking of the fulness of the language, that we
have heard about a score of words to indicate different varieties of
gait--one walks leaning forward, or backward, swaying from side to side,
loungingly, or smartly, swaggeringly, swinging the arms, or only one arm,
head down or up, or otherwise; each of these modes of walking was
expressed by a particular verb; and more words were used to designate the
different varieties of fools than we ever tried to count.
Mr. Moffat has translated the whole Bible into the language of the
Bechuana, and has diligently studied this tongue for the last forty-four-
years; and, though knowing far more of the language than any of the
natives who have been reared on the Mission-station of Kuruman, he does
not pretend to have mastered it fully even yet. However copious it may
be in terms of which we do not feel the necessity, it is poor in others,
as in abstract terms, and words used to describe mental operations.
Our third day's march ended in the afternoon of the 27th September, 1863,
at the village of Chinanga on the banks of a branch of the Loangwa. A
large, rounded mass of granite, a thousand feet high, called _Nombe
rume_, stand on the plain a few miles off. It is quite remarkable,
because it has so little vegetation on it. Several other granitic hills
stand near it, ornamented with trees, like most heights of this country,
and a heap of blue mountains appears away in the north.
The effect of the piercing winds upon the men had never been got rid of.
Several had been unable to carry a load ever since we ascended to the
highlands; we had lost one, and another poor lad was so ill as to cause
us great anxiety. By waiting in this village, which was so old that it
was full of vermin, all became worse. Our European food was entirely
expended, and native meal, though finely ground, has so many sharp
angular particles in it, that it brought back dysentery, from which we
had suffered so much in May. We could scarcely obtain food for the men.
The headman of this village of Chinanga was off in a foray against some
people further north to supply slaves to the traders expected along the
slave route we had just left; and was said, after having expelled the
inhabitants, to be living in their stockade, and devouring their corn.
The conquered tribe had purchased what was called a peace by presenting
the conqueror with three women.
This state of matters afforded us but a poor prospect of finding more
provisions in that direction than we could with great difficulty and at
enormous prices obtain here. But neither want of food, dysentery, nor
slave wars would have prevented our working our way round the Lake in
some other direction, had we had time; but we had received orders from
the Foreign Office to take the "Pioneer" down to the sea in the previous
April. The salaries of all the men in her were positively "in any case
to cease by the 31st of December."
We were said to be only ten days' distant from Lake Bemba. We might
speculate on a late rise of the river. A month or six weeks would secure
a geographical feat, but the rains were near. We had been warned by
different people that the rains were close at hand, and that we should
then be bogged and unable to travel. The flood in the river might be an
early one, or so small in volume as to give but one chance of the
"Pioneer" descending to the ocean. The Makololo too were becoming
dispirited by sickness and want of food, and were naturally anxious to be
back to their fields in time for sowing. But in addition to all this and
more, it was felt that it would not be dealing honestly with the
Government, were we, for the sake of a little eclat, to risk the
detention of the "Pioneer" up the river during another year; so we
decided to return; and though we had afterwards the mortification to find
that we were detained two full months at the ship waiting for the flood
which we expected immediately after our arrival there, the chagrin was
lessened by a consciousness of having acted in a fair, honest,
above-board manner throughout.
On the night of the 29th of September a thief came to the sleeping-place
of our men and stole a leg of a goat. On complaining to the deputy
headman, he said that the thief had fled, but would be caught. He
suggested a fine, and offered a fowl and her eggs; but wishing that the
thief alone should be punished, it was advised that _he_ should be found
and fined. The Makololo thought it best to take the fowl as a means of
making the punishment certain. After settling this matter on the last
day of September, we commenced our return journey. We had just the same
time to go back to the ship, that we had spent in coming to this point,
and there is not much to interest one in marching over the same ground a
second time.
While on our journey north-west, a cheery old woman, who had once been
beautiful, but whose white hair now contrasted strongly with her dark
complexion, was working briskly in her garden as we passed. She seemed
to enjoy a hale, hearty old age. She saluted us with what elsewhere
would be called a good address; and, evidently conscious that she
deserved the epithet, "dark but comely," answered each of us with a frank
"Yes, my child." Another motherly-looking woman, sitting by a well,
began the conversation by "You are going to visit Muazi, and you have
come from afar, have you not?" But in general women never speak to
strangers unless spoken to, so anything said by them attracts attention.
Muazi once presented us with a basket of corn. On hinting that we had no
wife to grind our corn, his buxom spouse struck in with roguish glee, and
said, "I will grind it for you; and leave Muazi, to accompany and cook
for you in the land of the setting sun." As a rule the women are modest
and retiring in their demeanour, and, without being oppressed with toil,
show a great deal of industry. The crops need about eight months'
attention. Then when the harvest is home, much labour is required to
convert it into food as porridge, or beer. The corn is pounded in a
large wooden mortar, like the ancient Egyptian one, with a pestle six
feet long and about four inches thick. The pounding is performed by two
or even three women at one mortar. Each, before delivering a blow with
her pestle, gives an upward jerk of the body, so as to put strength into
the stroke, and they keep exact time, so that two pestles are never in
the mortar at the same moment. The measured thud, thud, thud, and the
women standing at their vigorous work, are associations inseparable from
a prosperous African village. By the operation of pounding, with the aid
of a little water, the hard outside scale or husk of the grain is
removed, and the corn is made fit for the millstone. The meal irritates
the stomach unless cleared from the husk; without considerable energy in
the operator, the husk sticks fast to the corn. Solomon thought that
still more vigour than is required to separate the hard husk or bran from
wheat would fail to separate "a fool from his folly." "Though thou
shouldst bray a fool in a mortar among wheat with a pestle, _yet_ will
not his foolishness depart from him." The rainbow, in some parts, is
called the "pestle of the Barimo," or gods. Boys and girls, by constant
practice with the pestle, are able to plant stakes in the ground by a
somewhat similar action, in erecting a hut, so deftly that they never
miss the first hole made.
Let any one try by repeatedly jobbing a pole with all his force to make a
deep hole in the ground, and he will understand how difficult it is
always to strike it into the same spot.
As we were sleeping one night outside a hut, but near enough to hear what
was going on within, an anxious mother began to grind her corn about two
o'clock in the morning. "Ma," inquired a little girl, "why grind in the
dark?" Mamma advised sleep, and administered material for a sweet dream
to her darling, by saying, "I grind meal to buy a cloth from the
strangers, which will make you look a little lady." An observer of these
primitive races is struck continually with such little trivial touches of
genuine human nature.
The mill consists of a block of granite, syenite, or even mica schist,
fifteen or eighteen inches square and five or six thick, with a piece of
quartz or other hard rock about the size of a half brick, one side of
which has a convex surface, and fits into a concave hollow in the larger
and stationary stone. The workwoman kneeling, grasps this upper
millstone with both hands, and works it backwards and forwards in the
hollow of the lower millstone, in the same way that a baker works his
dough, when pressing it and pushing from him. The weight of the person
is brought to bear on the movable stone, and while it is pressed and
pushed forwards and backwards, one hand supplies every now and then a
little grain to be thus at first bruised and then ground on the lower
stone, which is placed on the slope so that the meal when ground falls on
to a skin or mat spread for the purpose. This is perhaps the most
primitive form of mill, and anterior to that in oriental countries, where
two women grind at one mill, and may have been that used by Sarah of old
when she entertained the Angels.
On 2nd October we applied to Muazi for guides to take us straight down to
Chinsamba's at Mosapo, and thus cut off an angle, which we should
otherwise make, by going back to Kota-kota Bay. He replied that his
people knew the short way to Chinsamba's that we desired to go, but that
they all were afraid to venture there, on account of the Zulus, or
Mazitu. We therefore started back on our old route, and, after three
hours' march, found some Babisa in a village who promised to lead us to
Chinsamba.
We meet with these keen traders everywhere. They are easily known by a
line of horizontal cicatrices, each half an inch long, down the middle of
the forehead and chin. They often wear the hair collected in a mass on
the upper and back part of the head, while it is all shaven off the
forehead and temples. The Babisa and Waiau or Ajawa heads have more of
the round bullet-shape than those of the Manganja, indicating a marked
difference in character; the former people being great traders and
travellers, the latter being attached to home and agriculture. The
Manganja usually intrust their ivory to the Babisa to be sold at the
Coast, and complain that the returns made never come up to the high
prices which they hear so much about before it is sent. In fact, by the
time the Babisa return, the expenses of the journey, in which they often
spend a month or two at a place where food abounds, usually eat up all
the profits.
Our new companions were trading in tobacco, and had collected quantities
of the round balls, about the size of nine pounder shot, into which it is
formed. One of them owned a woman, whose child had been sold that
morning for tobacco. The mother followed him, weeping silently, for
hours along the way we went; she seemed to be well known, for at several
hamlets, the women spoke to her with evident sympathy; we could do
nothing to alleviate her sorrow--the child would be kept until some slave-
trader passed, and then sold for calico. The different cases of slave-
trading observed by us are mentioned, in order to give a fair idea of its
details.
We spent the first night, after leaving the slave route, at the village
of Nkoma, among a section of Manganja, called Machewa, or Macheba, whose
district extends to the Bua.
The next village at which we slept was also that of a Manganja smith. It
was a beautiful spot, shaded with tall euphorbia-trees. The people at
first fled, but after a short time returned, and ordered us off to a
stockade of Babisa, about a mile distant. We preferred to remain in the
smooth shady spot outside the hamlet, to being pent up in a treeless
stockade. Twenty or thirty men came dropping in, all fully armed with
bows and arrows, some of them were at least six feet four in height, yet
these giants were not ashamed to say, "We thought that you were Mazitu,
and, being afraid, ran away." Their orders to us were evidently inspired
by terror, and so must the refusal of the headman to receive a cloth, or
lend us a hut have been; but as we never had the opportunity of realizing
what feelings a successful invasion would produce, we did not know
whether to blame them or not. The headman, a tall old smith, with an
enormous, well-made knife of his own workmanship, came quietly round,
and, inspecting the shelter, which, from there being abundance of long
grass and bushes near, our men put up for us in half an hour, gradually
changed his tactics, and, in the evening, presented us with a huge pot of
porridge and a deliciously well-cooked fowl, and made an apology for
having been so rude to strangers, and a lamentation that he had been so
foolish as to refuse the fine cloth we had offered. Another cloth was of
course presented, and we had the pleasure of parting good friends next
day.
Our guide, who belonged to the stockade near to which we had slept,
declined to risk himself further than his home. While waiting to hire
another, Masiko attempted to purchase a goat, and had nearly concluded
the bargain, when the wife of the would-be seller came forward, and said
to her husband, "You appear as if you were unmarried; selling a goat
without consulting your wife; what an insult to a woman! What sort of
man are you?" Masiko urged the man, saying, "Let us conclude the
bargain, and never mind her;" but he being better instructed, replied,
"No, I have raised a host against myself already," and refused.
We now pushed on to the east, so as to get down to the shores of the
Lake, and into the parts where we were known. The country was beautiful,
well wooded, and undulating, but the villages were all deserted; and the
flight of the people seemed to have been quite recent, for the grain was
standing in the corn-safes untouched. The tobacco, though ripe, remained
uncut in the gardens, and the whole country was painfully quiet: the
oppressive stillness quite unbroken by the singing of birds, or the
shrill calls of women watching their corn.
On passing a beautiful village, called Bangwe, surrounded by shady trees,
and placed in a valley among mountains, we were admiring the beauty of
the situation, when some of the much dreaded Mazitu, with their shields,
ran out of the hamlet, from which we were a mile distant. They began to
scream to their companions to give us chase. Without quickening our pace
we walked on, and soon were in a wood, through which the footpath we were
following led. The first intimation we had of the approaching Mazitu was
given by the Johanna man, Zachariah, who always lagged behind, running
up, screaming as if for his life. The bundles were all put in one place
to be defended; and Masiko and Dr. Livingstone walked a few paces back to
meet the coming foe. Masiko knelt down anxious to fire, but was ordered
not to do so. For a second or two dusky forms appeared among the trees,
and the Mazitu were asked, in their own tongue, "What do you want?"
Masiko adding, "What do you say?" No answer was given, but the dark
shade in the forest vanished. They had evidently taken us for natives,
and the sight of a white man was sufficient to put them to flight. Had
we been nearer the Coast, where the people are accustomed to the slave-
trade, we should have found this affair a more difficult one to deal
with; but, as a rule, the people of the interior are much more mild in
character than those on the confines of civilization.
The above very small adventure was all the danger we were aware of in
this journey; but a report was spread from the Portuguese villages on the
Zambesi, similar to several rumours that had been raised before, that Dr.
Livingstone had been murdered by the Makololo; and very unfortunately the
report reached England before it could be contradicted.
One benefit arose from the Mazitu adventure. Zachariah, and others who
had too often to be reproved for lagging behind, now took their places in
the front rank; and we had no difficulty in making very long marches for
several days, for all believed that the Mazitu would follow our
footsteps, and attack us while we slept.
A party of Babisa tobacco-traders came from the N.W. to Molamba, while we
were there; and one of them asserted several times that the Loapula,
after emerging from Moelo, received the Lulua, and then flowed into Lake
Mofu, and thence into Tanganyika; and from the last-named Lake into the
sea. This is the native idea of the geography of the interior; and, to
test the general knowledge of our informant, we asked him about our
acquaintances in Londa; as Moene, Katema, Shinde or Shinte, who live
south-west of the rivers mentioned, and found that our friends there were
perfectly well-known to him and to others of these travelled natives. In
the evening two of the Babisa came in, and reported that the Mazitu had
followed us to the village called Chigaragara, at which we slept at the
bottom of the descent. The whole party of traders set off at once,
though the sun had set. We ourselves had given rise to the report, for
the women of Chigaragara, supposing us in the distance to be Mazitu,
fled, with all their household utensils on their heads, and had no
opportunity afterwards of finding out their mistake. We spent the night
where we were, and next morning, declining Nkomo's entreaty to go and
kill elephants, took our course along the shores of the Lake southwards.
We have only been at the Lake at one season of the year: then the wind
blows strongly from the east, and indeed this is its prevailing direction
hence to the Orange River; a north or a south wind is rare, and seldom
lasts more than three days. As the breeze now blew over a large body of
water, towards us, it was delightful; but when facing it on the table-
land it was so strong as materially to impede our progress, and added
considerably to the labour of travelling. Here it brought large
quantities of the plant (_Vallisneriae_), from which the natives extract
salt by burning, and which, if chewed, at once shows its saline
properties by the taste. Clouds of the kungo, or edible midges, floated
on the Lake, and many rested on the bushes on land.
The reeds along the shores of the Lake were still crowded with fugitives,
and a great loss of life must since have taken place; for, after the corn
they had brought with them was expended, famine would ensue. Even now we
passed many women and children digging up the roots, about the size of
peas, of an aromatic grass; and their wasted forms showed that this poor
hard fare was to allay, if possible, the pangs of hunger. The babies at
the breast crowed to us as we passed, their mothers kneeling and grubbing
for the roots; the poor little things still drawing nourishment from the
natural fountain were unconscious of that sinking of heart which their
parents must have felt in knowing that the supply for the little ones
must soon fail. No one would sell a bit of food to us: fishermen, even,
would not part with the produce of their nets, except in exchange for
some other kind of food. Numbers of newly-made graves showed that many
had already perished, and hundreds were so emaciated that they had the
appearance of human skeletons swathed in brown and wrinkled leather. In
passing mile after mile, marked with these sad proofs that "man's
inhumanity to man makes countless thousands mourn," one experiences an
overpowering sense of helplessness to alleviate human woe, and breathes a
silent prayer to the Almighty to hasten the good time coming when "man
and man the world o'er, shall brothers be for all that." One small
redeeming consideration in all this misery could not but be felt; these
ills were inflicted by heathen Mazitu, and not by, or for, those who say
to Him who is higher than the highest, "We believe that thou shalt come
to be our Judge."
We crossed the Mokole, rested at Chitanda, and then left the Lake, and
struck away N.W. to Chinsamba's. Our companions, who were so much
oppressed by the rarefied air of the plateau, still showed signs of
exhaustion, though now only 1300 feet above the sea, and did not recover
flesh and spirits till we again entered the Lower Shire Valley, which is
of so small an altitude, that, without simultaneous observations with the
barometer there and on the sea-coast, the difference would not be
appreciable.
On a large plain on which we spent one night, we had the company of
eighty tobacco traders on their way from Kasungu to Chinsamba's. The
Mazitu had attacked and killed two of them, near the spot where the Zulus
fled from us without answering our questions. The traders were now so
frightened that, instead of making a straight course with us, they set
off by night to follow the shores of the Lake to Tsenga, and then turn
west. It is the sight of shields, or guns that inspires terror. The
bowmen feel perfectly helpless when the enemy comes with even the small
protection the skin shield affords, or attacks them in the open field
with guns. They may shoot a few arrows, but they are such poor shots
that ten to one if they hit. The only thing that makes the arrow
formidable is the poison; for if the poisoned barb goes in nothing can
save the wounded. A bow is in use in the lower end of Lake Nyassa, but
is more common in the Maravi country, from six to eight inches broad,
which is intended to be used as a shield as well as a bow; but we never
saw one with the mark on it of an enemy's arrow. It certainly is no
match for the Zulu shield, which is between four and five feet long, of
an oval shape, and about two feet broad. So great is the terror this
shield inspires that we sometimes doubted whether the Mazitu here were
Zulus at all, and suspected that the people of the country took advantage
of that fear, and, assuming shields, pretended to belong to that nation.
On the 11th October we arrived at the stockade of Chinsamba in Mosapo,
and had reason to be very well satisfied with his kindness. A paraffin
candle was in his eyes the height of luxury, and the ability to make a
light instantaneously by a lucifer match, a marvel that struck him with
wonder. He brought all his relatives in different groups to see the
strange sights,--instantaneous fire-making, and a light, without the
annoyance of having fire and smoke in the middle of the floor. When they
wish to look for anything in the dark, a wisp of dried grass is lighted.
Chinsamba gave us a great deal of his company during our visits. As we
have often remarked in other cases, a chief has a great deal to attend to
in guiding the affairs of his people. He is consulted on all occasions,
and gives his advice in a stream of words, which show a very intimate
acquaintance with the topography of his district; he knows every rood
cultivated, every weir put in the river, every hunting-net, loom, gorge,
and every child of his tribe. Any addition made to the number of these
latter is notified to him; and he sends thanks and compliments to the
parents.
The presents which, following the custom of the country, we gave to every
headman, where we either spent a night or a longer period, varied from
four to eight yards of calico. We had some Manchester cloths made in
imitation of the native manufactured robes of the West Coast, each worth
five or six shillings. To the more important of the chiefs, for calico
we substituted one of these strong gaudy dresses, iron spoons, a knife,
needles, a tin dish, or pannikin, and found these presents to be valued
more than three times their value in cloth would have been. Eight or ten
shillings' worth gave abundant satisfaction to the greediest; but this is
to be understood as the prime cost of the articles, and a trader would
sometimes have estimated similar generosity as equal to from 30 to 50
pounds. In some cases the presents we gave exceeded the value of what
was received in return; in others the excess of generosity was on the
native side.
We never asked for leave to pass through the country; we simply told
where we were going, and asked for guides; if they were refused, or if
they demanded payment beforehand, we requested to be put into the
beginning of the path, and said that we were sorry we could not agree
about the guides, and usually they and we started together. Greater care
would be required on entering the Mazitu or Zulu country, for there the
Government extends over very large districts, while among the Manganja
each little district is independent of every other. The people here have
not adopted the exacting system of the Banyai, or of the people whose
country was traversed by Speke and Grant.
In our way back from Chinsamba's to Chembi's and from his village to
Nkwinda's, and thence to Katosa's, we only saw the people working in
their gardens, near to the stockades. These strongholds were
strengthened with branches of acacias, covered with strong hooked thorns;
and were all crowded with people. The air was now clearer than when we
went north, and we could see the hills of Kirk's Range five or six miles
to the west of our path. The sun struck very hot, and the men felt it
most in their feet. Every one who could get a bit of goatskin made it
into a pair of sandals.
While sitting at Nkwinda's, a man behind the court hedge-wall said, with
great apparent glee, that an Arab slaving party on the other side of the
confluence of the Shire and Lake were "giving readily two fathoms of
calico for a boy, and two and a half for a girl; never saw trade so
brisk, no haggling at all." This party was purchasing for the supply of
the ocean slave-trade. One of the evils of this traffic is that it
profits by every calamity that happens in a country. The slave-trader
naturally reaps advantage from every disorder, and though in the present
case some lives may have been saved that otherwise would have perished,
as a rule he intensifies hatreds, and aggravates wars between the tribes,
because the more they fight and vanquish each other the richer his
harvest becomes. Where slaving and cattle are unknown the people live in
peace. As we sat leaning against that hedge, and listened to the
harangue of the slave-trader's agent, it glanced across our mind that
this was a terrible world; the best in it unable, from conscious
imperfections, to say to the worst "Stand by! for I am holier than thou."
The slave-trader, imbued no doubt with certain kindly feelings, yet
pursuing a calling which makes him a fair specimen of a human fiend,
stands grouped with those by whom the slave-traders are employed, and
with all the workers of sin and misery in more highly-favoured lands, an
awful picture to the All-seing Eye.
We arrived at Katosa's village on the 15th October, and found about
thirty young men and boys in slave-sticks. They had been bought by other
agents of the Arab slavers, still on the east side of the Shire. They
were resting in the village, and their owners soon removed them. The
weight of the goree seemed very annoying when they tried to sleep. This
taming instrument is kept on, until the party has crossed several rivers
and all hope of escape has vanished from the captive's mind.
On explaining to Katosa the injury he was doing in selling his people as
slaves, he assured us that those whom we had seen belonged to the Arabs,
and added that he had far too few people already. He said he had been
living in peace at the lakelet Pamalombe; that the Ajawa, or Machinga,
under Kainka and Karamba, and a body of Babisa, under Maonga, had induced
him to ferry them over the Shire; that they had lived for a considerable
time at his expense, and at last stole his sheep, which induced him to
make his escape to the place where he now dwelt, and in this flight he
had lost many of his people. His account of the usual conduct of the
Ajawa quite agrees with what these people have narrated themselves, and
gives but a low idea of their moral tone. They have repeatedly broken
all the laws of hospitality by living for months on the bounty of the
Manganja, and then, by a sudden uprising, overcoming their hosts, and
killing or chasing them out of their inheritances. The secret of their
success is the possession of firearms. There were several of these Ajawa
here again, and on our arrival they proposed to Katosa that they should
leave; but he replied that they need not be afraid of us. They had red
beads strung so thickly on their hair that at a little distance they
appeared to have on red caps. It is curious that the taste for red hair
should be so general among the Africans here and further north; in the
south black mica, called _Sebilo_, and even soot are used to deepen the
colour of the hair; here many smear the head with red-ochre, others plait
the inner bark of a tree stained red into it; and a red powder called
_Mukuru_ is employed, which some say is obtained from the ground, and
others from the roots of a tree.
It having been doubted whether sugar-cane is indigenous to this country
or not, we employed Katosa to procure the two varieties commonly
cultivated, with the intention of conveying them to Johanna. One is
yellow, and the other, like what we observed in the Barotse Valley, is
variegated with dark red and yellow patches, or all red. We have seen it
"arrow," or blossom. Bamboos also run to seed, and the people are said
to use the seed as food. The sugar-cane has native names, which would
lead us to believe it to be indigenous. Here it is called _Zimbi_,
further south _Mesari_, and in the centre of the country _Meshuati_.
Anything introduced in recent times, as maize, superior cotton, or
cassava, has a name implying its foreign origin.
Katosa's village was embowered among gigantic trees of fine timber:
several caffiaceous bushes, with berries closely resembling those of the
common coffee, grew near, but no use had ever been made of them. There
are several cinchonaceous trees also in the country; and some of the wild
fruits are so good as to cause a feeling of regret that they have not
been improved by cultivation, or whatever else brought ours to their
present perfection. Katosa lamented that this locality was so inferior
to his former place at Pamalombe; there he had maize at the different
stages of growth throughout the year. To us, however, he seemed, by
digging holes, and taking advantage of the moisture beneath, to have
succeeded pretty well in raising crops at this the driest time. The
Makololo remarked that "here the maize had no season,"--meaning that the
whole year was proper for its growth and ripening. By irrigation a
succession of crops of grain might be raised anywhere within the south
intertropical region of Africa.
When we were with Motunda, on the 20th October, he told us frankly that
all the native provisions were hidden in Kirk's Range, and his village
being the last place where a supply of grain could be purchased before we
reached the ship, we waited till he had sent to his hidden stores. The
upland country, beyond the mountains now on our right, is called Deza,
and is inhabited by Maravi, who are only another tribe of Manganja. The
paramount chief is called Kabambe, and he, having never been visited by
war, lives in peace and plenty. Goats and sheep thrive; and Nyango, the
chieftainess further to the south, has herds of horned cattle. The
country being elevated is said to be cold, and there are large grassy
plains on it which are destitute of trees. The Maravi are reported to be
brave, and good marksmen with the bow; but, throughout all the country we
have traversed, guns are enabling the trading tribes to overcome the
agricultural and manufacturing classes.
On the ascent at the end of the valley just opposite Mount Mvai, we
looked back for a moment to impress the beauties of the grand vale on our
memory. The heat of the sun was now excessive, and Masiko, thinking that
it was overpowering, proposed to send forward to the ship and get a
hammock, in which to carry any one who might knock up. He was truly kind
and considerate. Dr. Livingstone having fallen asleep after a fatiguing
march, a hole in the roof of the hut he was in allowed the sun to beat on
his head, and caused a splitting headache and deafness: while he was
nearly insensible, he felt Masiko repeatedly lift him back to the bed off
which he had rolled, and cover him up.
On the 24th we were again in Banda, at the village of Chasundu, and could
now see clearly the hot valley in which the Shire flows, and the
mountains of the Manganja beyond to our south-east. Instead of following
the road by which we had come, we resolved to go south along the
Lesungwe, which rises at Zunje, a peak on the same ridge as Mvai, and a
part of Kirk's Range, which bounds the country of the Maravi on our west.
This is about the limit of the beat of the Portuguese native traders, and
it is but recently that, following our footsteps, they have come so far.
It is not likely that their enterprise will lead them further north, for
Chasundu informed us that the Babisa under-sell the agents from Tette. He
had tried to deal with the latter when they first came; but they offered
only ten fathoms of calico for a tusk, for which the Babisa gave him
twenty fathoms and a little powder. Ivory was brought to us for sale
again and again, and, as far as we could judge, the price expected would
be about one yard of calico per pound, or possibly more, for there is no
scale of prices known. The rule seems to be that buyer and seller shall
spend a good deal of time in trying to cheat each other before coming to
any conclusion over a bargain.
We found the Lesungwe a fine stream near its source, and about forty feet
wide and knee-deep, when joined by the Lekudzi, which comes down from the
Maravi country.
Guinea-fowl abounded, but no grain could be purchased, for the people had
cultivated only the holmes along the banks with maize and pumpkins. Time
enough had not elapsed since the slave-trader's invasion, and destruction
of their stores, for them to raise crops of grain on the adjacent lands.
To deal with them for a few heads of maize was the hungry bargaining with
the famished, so we hastened on southwards as fast as the excessive heat
would allow us. It was impossible to march in the middle of the day, the
heat was so intolerable; and we could not go on at night, because, if we
had chanced to meet any of the inhabitants, we should have been taken for
marauders.
We had now thunder every afternoon; but while occasional showers seemed
to fall at different parts, none fell on us. The air was deliciously
clear, and revealed all the landscape covered everywhere with forest, and
bounded by beautiful mountains. On the 31st October we reached the
Mukuru-Madse, after having travelled 660 geographical miles, or 760
English miles in a straight line. This was accomplished in fifty-five
travelling days, twelve miles per diem on an average. If the numerous
bendings and windings, and ups and downs of the paths could have been
measured too, the distance would have been found at least fifteen miles a
day.
The night we slept at the Mukuru-Madse it thundered heavily, but, as this
had been the case every afternoon, and no rain had followed, we erected
no shelter, but during this night a pouring rain came on. When very
tired a man feels determined to sleep in spite of everything, and the
sound of dropping water is said to be conducive to slumber, but that does
not refer to an African storm. If, when half asleep in spite of a heavy
shower on the back of the head, he unconsciously turns on his side, the
drops from the branches make such capital shots into his ear, that the
brain rings again.
We were off next morning, the 1st of November, as soon as the day dawned.
In walking about seven miles to the ship, our clothes were thoroughly
dried by the hot sun, and an attack of fever followed. We relate this
little incident to point out the almost certain consequence of getting
wet in this climate, and allowing the clothes to dry on the person. Even
if we walk in the mornings when the dew is on the grass, and only get our
feet and legs wet, a very uneasy feeling and partial fever with pains in
the limbs ensue, and continue till the march onwards bathes them in
perspiration. Had Bishop Mackenzie been aware of this, which, before
experience alone had taught us, entailed many a severe lesson, we know no
earthly reason why his valuable life might not have been spared. The
difference between getting the clothes soaked in England and in Africa is
this: in the cold climate the patient is compelled, or, at any rate,
warned, by discomfort to resort at once to a change of raiment; while in
Africa it is cooling and rather pleasant to allow the clothes to dry on
the person. A Missionary in proportion as he possesses an athletic
frame, hardened by manly exercises, in addition to his other
qualifications, will excel him who is not favoured with such bodily
endowments; but in a hot climate efficiency mainly depends on husbanding
the resources. He must never forget that, in the tropics, he is an
exotic plant.