THIRD HALF. JULY, 1879-DEC., 1879.
Mlanje district having proved too unsettled for Mission Work, our
thoughts turned to Zomba, where there was greater quietness. The Rev.
Horace Waller said that he had ever looked upon this great mountain as a
‘Land of Promise’. Its height gave us good reason for expecting that a
healthy site could be found in its neighbourhood. We started for Zomba
on _July 30_. It was 8·45 before we had all the carriers in motion. I
went off in front, while Mr. Buchanan brought up the rear. We carried
with us provisions for a month, and tools to build a house if we should
find a good settlement with friendly natives. As we crossed the shoulder
of Ndilande, our march was quite an ovation, the natives running from
every village to salute us. Two hours from Blantyre brought us to a
wooded plain, uninhabited but well watered, in which we proceeded for two
hours more, till we reached a village on the side of Cherasulo at one
o’clock. After resting for two hours we resumed our journey, which now
lay through a valley at the foot of Cherasulo—a most fertile spot, with
sparkling brooks and gigantic trees.
At this point one of our carriers fell behind, and could not be found. He
managed his little trick so skilfully that I did not understand it till
long after. When we started we intended to pass Mkanda’s, but on further
inquiry we resolved to go by Kumpama’s. On our change of route becoming
known, this poor carrier who had been a slave of Kumpama’s, contrived to
‘miss the way,’ although beside his old home. He then ‘wandered a long
time is search of us’ and at last returned to Blantyre. I mention this to
shew the reserve of the natives. All knew the facts as well as I do now,
but no one hinted at them and we were left to suppose, if we liked, that
the carrier had run off and stolen his load.
That night we pitched our tent in the village of a ‘brother’ of
Mityoche’s, who treated us with great kindness. Since the expedition to
Mlanje had caused so much anxiety we took the opportunity at this place
of writing back to Blantyre, and two of the villagers were very willing
to act as postmen.
On _July 31_ we resumed at 7 o’clock hardly expecting to see a single
habitation till we were near Zomba. But there are a few hamlets a little
way off the path. One large village we reached at 9, and there we rested
before entering the desert. We partook of breakfast while our carriers
regaled themselves with native beer. As the ‘English’ are held in high
estimation as Physicians, a poor man covered with a kind of leprosy was
brought to us here. At 11·20 we came to the Namasi, the largest stream
we had yet crossed. The road is uniformly level. It seems as if nature
had meant it for a railway. On the sides, here and there, are rocky
heights rising about 150 feet above the plain. 1·50 P.M. brought us to
the Ntondwe, another large stream. After 3 the descent was gradual,
almost imperceptible, till we reached, at the foot of Zomba, a fine
stream called the Likangala, by the side of which at 5·30 we pitched our
tent under the shadow of the great mountain. At this spot there are some
villages on sites as beautiful as could be conceived. The inhabitants are
numerous and intelligent. They have had much intercourse with the coast,
which they can reach in about seven days. Their chief is Chemlumbe. All
the people were exceedingly kind and each headman recommended us to stay
beside himself. The Cherasulo people could not see why we preferred
Zomba, and Chemlumbe’s subjects were sure that we would settle with him.
_Aug. 1._—We started for Chemlumbe’s own residence. He wished us to rest
three days before doing anything. This is an example of some of the lazy
customs of the country. But there are certain principles in human nature
quite as strong as habit: through the offer of two shirts we procured a
guide, and by twelve o’clock we stood on the top of Zomba. Once there, we
went round the whole of the side towards Blantyre, and the whole of the
side towards Chirwa. To our disappointment we found that, at the nearest
point, the lake was at a great distance from the base of Zomba. One hill
called Chikala is nearer the lake only our guide said that it was the
chosen abode of war and tsetse. By the time we were ready to descend the
mountain, it was dark. Our guide had left us in the afternoon because we
were going too far in the direction of a hostile chief called Malemya.
We were not sure whether to sleep on the hill or to press onwards in the
moonlight. Ultimately we resolved to press on. Our men were so tired that
they preferred to stay behind and we went on alone, though very faint,
having eaten nothing since morning. Before we had gone fifteen minutes
Buchanan, who was leading, declared that it would be a difficult descent,
and in about fifteen minutes more we were in a perfect ‘fix’. At one
point it seemed to be quite impossible to go down, while it was nearly
equally difficult to go back. We kept struggling for about two hours.
Once we thought of lying down till the moon came round; at another time
we proceeded to take off our clothing to serve as a rope by which we
might project ourselves to a certain tree. We cannot be too thankful that
this last plan was abandoned, as we should have reached the tree only to
be precipitated down hundreds of feet of perpendicular rock. The want
of food, and the exertions of the day, had made us exceedingly weak; we
could hardly speak. But we did not lose our trust in God; and it gave us
comfort to think that we were not forgotten by praying people at home. In
a short time we found a less dangerous path, and reached a stream about
midnight. A few draughts of its delicious water made up for want of food;
and in a short time we tried to wade down the channel, as having thus the
easiest passage to the foot of the mountain. In the stream our progress
was no longer obstructed by bush, but we encountered large slippery
stones. One or two falls among these convinced us that the mountain must
be our abode all night. We found a level stone for a bed, and a few logs,
which made a fire. One of us was to sleep, the other to watch and scare
the wild beasts. I was constituted watchman, as Buchanan who was better
acquainted with Chemlumbe was to bring round the carriers next day.
_Aug. 2._—In the morning we were as fresh as could be expected, and urged
on by hunger, we resumed our journey as soon as we could see. We now
discovered that we had reason to be thankful for not having attempted
to descend farther in the night. Towards the foot of the mountain we
found timber, bamboos, and other requisites for building, growing more
plentifully than at Blantyre. Having started at six we reached a native
village—Kalimbuka’s—about eight, and our knowledge of the language at
once recommended us to the people. We allayed the pangs of hunger by
devouring a few raw eggs, which we bought for a handkerchief. Though
some of these had been taken from under a hen as usual, we found as many
fresh as served our purpose. Then we made a meal of sweet potatoes which
were roasted among the ashes. After we had time to examine ourselves
we found our clothes had been cut by our falls among the stones the
previous night. An aneroid barometer which we laid down in the chiefs
verandah, soon collected a great crowd. The chief had tried to catch
the hands below the glass! and was so much surprised at his failure
that he called his people. They were all still more surprised when I
produced my watch. They thought the larger hand might be a “picture”
but they saw the seconds hand actually moving, yet despite all their
efforts, they could not catch it. Every man in the village had to try
the experiment for himself before he was convinced. A brave old veteran
who had slain his hundreds, came forward perfectly certain that he
could take hold of the “little stick”. He pushed aside the rest of the
people with an air of contempt—they were good for nothing if they could
not hold that stick. They made way for the mighty man who placed his
forefinger opposite his large thumb and pounced upon the watch glass
with the greatest confidence. He repeated the attack again and again,
but the seconds hand still kept moving on as before. Gradually a puzzled
look crept over his face, and the crowd raised a loud laugh, while the
warrior tried to cover his defeat, by saying, “Can you catch hold of it,
father?” By the time that the men had all tried to catch the “stick,”
the female population paused amidst the labours of their busier life,
and came forward in a body to see the phenomenon that had so puzzled
their husbands. They showed equal astonishment. The watch opened with
the usual spring. And being anxious to get an illustration of the “post
hoc, propter hoc” fallacy, I invited one man to blow upon the back of
it, when to his astonishment, the lid opened at once! After this all the
villagers crowded round for the purpose of blowing on the watch, and
they clapped their hands and huzzaed, when the lid always opened! Before
the exhibition had finished, every villager had to put the watch to his
ear to hear what it said. Then he told his friends that it said, “Telu!
telu! telu!” The natives often gave an interpretation of sounds which
was different from ours. According to them a cat does not say “mew,” but
“nyao”.
In the course of the day, our goods were brought round from Chemlumbe’s,
who seemed offended because we had not settled at his village which was
unfortunately unsuitable. Chemlumbe is related to Mityoche, and had we
settled with him, the latter might have always allowed our carriers to
pass in peace. We asked Kalimbuka whether we could get leave to choose
a spot in his neighbourhood, and he was delighted with the idea. But
wishing to observe every little point of native manners, we requested him
to take us first to Malemya, the chief of the whole district.
_Sunday, August 3._—We held two services in the native language, which
were well attended. When we repeated the Lord’s prayer, our new friends
specially noted its last petition, “Deliver us from evil”.[5]
_Monday, August 4._—With Kalimbuka’s son as guide we set out for
Malemya’s. In this journey we found more traces of foreign influence than
are seen at Blantyre. We met with one man that could speak Swahili, and
with another that had been the slave of some Portuguese planter. When
we expressed a doubt as to whether a Portuguese slave would run so far
inland, Bismark said, “There can be no doubt about the matter, if you
look at his side, you may see the mark!” and so it was. When the man
raised his arm, we found that he had a brand on the side.
On reaching Malemya’s, we asked an interview with the chief. After
some delay, an old man who was evidently a great snuff-taker, made his
appearance, and announced himself as Malemya. We shewed him all the
tokens of respect due to a king, and stated our errand. He was quite
favourable and condescended to give us a general idea of his kingdom and
its relations. He bitterly complained of his neighbour Kawinga, who tried
to capture all his subjects. After everything had been discussed, he said
he would take a few minutes to consider how he would deal with us, and
retired. During his absence, Bismark and some of our men were asked to a
private interview. In a little, Bismark returned laughing and said, “That
man you saw is not the chief at all! The chief is a young man. You will
see him if you come round to the back of the house.” On this explanation
being given, all the natives laughed, feeling that the white men had been
cheated! Though some even of our own retinue must have known that Malemya
was a young man, they gave us no hint of this, but seemed to enjoy the
little game: they afterwards remarked that Machinga chiefs always acted
in this manner with strangers. Malemya himself was very cordial. When
we tried to explain that we wanted a little bit of ground as well as a
house, he did not understand how we could have a house without getting
all the land about it! In his view, the one gift implied the other. We
were careful to explain that we should not interfere in the usual native
wars. He wished us to stay and rest with him, but we declined, promising
to call again.
Next day we set ourselves to choose a spot for a house, and to begin
operations. In choosing the site we had many conditions to fulfil. (1)
There must be people about us. On seeing this spot from the top of the
mountain, we were delighted with the cluster of little villages. Here we
were on the borders between Chemlumbe and Malemya, having a ready access
to both kingdoms, and the subjects of these hostile chiefs laid aside
their petty jealousies and worked side by side with us. (2) There must be
a supply of good water. On the banks of the Mlungusi we had as favourable
a position in this respect as could be desired. (3) It must be a healthy
spot. The elevation of the site at Zomba secured this, our station being
on the southern side of the hill, about 400 feet higher than Blantyre,
and quite accessible to every wind except the north, which would be a
hot wind. Here, too, the mountain juts out, giving us even more than our
fair share of fresh air. (4) It must be a secure spot. This site seemed
specially suited for preserving us from such trouble from thieves as we
had at Blantyre. The whole district round as far as Malemya’s is well
watered and populous. The people, too, are quite as knowing as those
at Blantyre, most of the men having been at Quilimane. They were able
to give me much help with the language. At Blantyre I had been long
searching for a Yao word equivalent to our “hundred” but without success.
At Zomba I got it at once, but it is seldom used—the natives rarely
counting so high.
_Tuesday, August 5_, found us at our new settlement. After clearing a
little spot we raised a grass hut. In this we had just room for our
beds and a table. The bedsteads which we had brought with us were not
strong and sometimes fell down and knocked our heads through our wall!
A table was made by driving four posts into the floor, and fixing a
bamboo boarding above them. For chairs, we had old boxes. Our cooking
was done under a big tree. We had no windows, but the walls of our house
were convenient, as we could at once make holes to look through when a
disturbance arose. The native workers slept in similar grass tents around
us. One night they accidentally set fire to a dwelling, the flames spread
and destroyed several others, soon the whole bush was in a blaze; but our
hut escaped. It did service for three weeks, until the larger house was
finished, when Mr. Buchanan abandoned it in favour of some fowls that he
had bought.
We were glad that we could address the people in their own tongue, and
they listened with much attention. Of course they did not yet know to
come to us, and we had to go to them. One Sunday I held a great many
services, moving about from village to village and preaching in them
all. When I returned in the evening, a congregation soon assembled. By
this time I was quite tired, and when addressing them I adopted a sitting
posture; but so earnest was their manner in listening, that it soon
brought me to my feet. I often asked Bismark to address the natives, and
his words produced a profound impression. He delivered some addresses
of such an earnest, practical character, that they would not have been
amiss in the English language, and in a home pulpit. Zomba on the whole
gave promise of doing well as a Mission station, and secular work was
also carried on with great vigour. Besides building a house, Mr. Buchanan
had to hoe the ground for crops and to make a road to the new Station.
The natives in the neighbourhood were exceedingly anxious to obtain
employment. Those about Blantyre had all benefited by working at the
Mission, and by this time they were more civilized in dress. Compared
with our people, the inhabitants of Zomba looked very naked. In their
district there was no cloth except some Blantyre calico which they had
purchased from other natives, and a little that had been bought from the
slave-drivers a few months before. Every Monday, workers were enrolled
for a fortnight. More applied than could be engaged, but as several came
from great distances, Mr. Buchanan always took on as many as he could.
One afternoon I started to pay a second visit to Malemya. He and his
people were in the midst of a beer-drinking, which had lasted a few days
already, but which he assured me was only beginning. He gave me a hut in
a village at some distance from the scene of the beer drinking. Though he
was quite drunk when I arrived, he soon recovered and came down beside
me. We spoke of the great numbers of people that could be reached from
Chirwa, and he promised me a guide to its shores. He said the Lake used
to be full of water, but that it was becoming drier every year—“What
could be the reason?” Problems of this kind often occupy native chiefs,
who are always glad to hear the opinions of a stranger. On going along
its shores next day, I saw that the Lake at one time had been broader,
and that over a great part of the land still covered, the water was only
a few feet in depth. That night I slept in a village near the Lake. The
headman urged me to occupy his own dwelling and accordingly proceeded to
clear out his poultry. Bismark warned me against entering the hut as it
was full of “what was called fleas”. But since the people were so kind
as to give up their home for me, I thought it best not to be fastidious.
On the whole I was comfortable; once I awoke and was quite overawed at
hearing the gnawing of the rats. It seemed as if hundreds of mouths were
munching at once. I lighted a match, and then there was a great scamper,
which disturbed the few fowls that still roosted above me. I could see
that the roof where my host kept his maize was alive with rats. For a
while they paused in their carnival, but slowly and surely the dread
sound returned. I buried my head under the blankets and wished for the
Pied Piper of Hamelin! In this village there was great plenty, and in its
neighbourhood we saw large herds of game. As the village was situated
beside a stream, the people were all experts at spearing fish.
The time had now come when it was necessary for me to return to Blantyre.
There Dr. Laws was waiting with his bride, and we had the prospect of
celebrating the first European marriage ever witnessed in this land.
Before I left Zomba the supply of calico was low, and Mr. Buchanan had
to face his workmen one morning with an empty exchequer. Some grumbled,
and said they were to be “cheated”. But the Blantyre men came forward
in a body to explain “that the English did not cheat”. I often found
that I could be of considerable service when a dispute arose among the
negro workmen about wages. As I did not interfere with secular affairs,
I was appealed to by the natives as being a neutral party, and I could
keep them amused till calmer counsels prevailed. When I set out on my
return journey at the end of August, Mr. Buchanan was left to work at
Zomba alone. On reaching Blantyre we were much pleased at the arrival of
copies of our new books in the native language, which soon gave a fresh
impulse to all our school teaching. It was no uncommon thing this half
year to see lads in every corner with books in their hands. Formerly we
were quite satisfied when they attended to their lessons during school
hours, but now there was a revolution, and many began to study with
real enthusiasm. The only drawback was that here a book would be read
threadbare long before other translations could be printed.
In _travelling_ one sees and learns much more than when closely confined
to school-work. The days occupied in founding the new station at Zomba
were the first I had as yet spent out of Blantyre. As we passed through
the country we were often in danger of walking into native traps. Some of
these are constructed so as to hang the party that enters, others bring
down a log or a heavy stone upon his head. Pitfalls of about five feet
deep are dug, and carefully covered over. These are dangerous, and white
men often fall into them. But the natives are good observers, and when
one knows what they say, he always gets warning in time. In the same way
when marching after sunset, they warn each other very faithfully of any
stone on the path or any hole in it. Should there be a stone each man
says “stone” (liganga) as he comes to it, and the word passes along the
whole file with solemn regularity. The red ants are a great trial to the
unwary traveller. If he walk for a few minutes upon them, he will feel
severe bites all over his body, and will soon be compelled to take off
every stitch of clothing. When marching as we did in single file, we are
apt to incur peculiar dangers. Most natives carry a bunch of poisoned
arrows over the shoulder, and if there be a sudden halt a European needs
to be careful that he does not run against the armoury of the man that
marches before him. As we passed Cherasulo, which was a great slaving
district, we occasionally saw some poor woman standing in a slave-stick.
Our carriers showed a desire to go and release such people; and since
every European that travelled in this country figured to some extent as a
liberator of the slave, they expected us to encourage them, but we felt
that it would be most inexpedient to interfere.
At this period we had the Rev. Horace Waller congratulating us on the
peaceful state of the country, as compared with his own experience. But
a very painful incident now occurred which I shall describe mainly by
extracts from letters of this date. On _Tuesday, 16th September_, when
I was in school, a note came from Mr. Buchanan, stating that the goods
sent to him had been taken away after a brisk battle with the carriers,
in which guns and arrows were freely used and some wounds inflicted. The
Livingstonia Mission were then removing a great quantity of stores which
had been waiting for them at Blantyre, and it was said that a number of
Mityoche’s men had for days been waiting on the Livingstonia road to
secure this booty. But they were a little too late; all the goods passed
safely, and the robbers had to return. On their way home, however, they
met a party of ours going to Zomba, and the result was a successful
attack upon them.
When Mr. Buchanan’s note came to the station, Fenwick and I prepared to
go at once and have an interview with Mityoche. My great difficulty was
to get away from School for the purpose, but Mr. Moir of the African
Lakes Company who was then recovering from fever undertook to teach for
me. The people of Zomba had earnestly entreated me to go back to see
them soon, and I would thus have an opportunity of paying them a visit.
Taking duplicates of what had been lost, we started at five o’clock in
the afternoon, about an hour after the news arrived. We intended to camp
at Cherasulo, but it was found that our tent had been left behind, and
as the sun is so very hot just now during the day, we pressed on all
night fearing, as we did, that Mr. Buchanan who had been without cloth
for some time, would have difficulty in making a settlement with his
workers. About one o’clock in the morning we reached Kumpama’s, and might
have stayed there, but a guide volunteered to take us to Mityoche’s at
once. As we should thus be able to reach Zomba in the course of the
day, we accepted the offer, and after resting a while we resumed our
journey. It was interesting to pass the villages at night. The guide was
a great smoker and at every place he roused half-a-dozen men to light
his pipe. The natives rise at night with great ease as compared with
people that have to put on clothes. It was nearly daylight when we came
to Mityoche’s. We sent the guide to tell that we wanted an interview.
All at once the fellows seemed to know our errand, and they would not be
cordial. We never failed so entirely in getting natives to be friendly.
When we asked to see the chief they demanded whether we wanted war, and
when we told them that we were men of peace, they replied that we might
have an interview with the chief if we sent him a present. A present of
calico was accordingly sent to show that our intentions were friendly.
The reply came that it was too little—the chief wanted more. But by this
time his fighting men came rushing in with loaded guns, and assumed
threatening attitudes towards our party. Although it was the standard
present and the natives with us were determined to stand by it, we sent
another to prevent any cause of offence. Still we were told it was too
little and another increase followed with the same result. By this time
we began to fear that a thorough “brush” was inevitable, and we wished
to get out of the village if possible. The other party brandished their
guns, and swung them about in a sort of wild war dance. Our own villagers
advised them to caution, and cried out, ‘The English are your friends and
they could eat you all if they liked’. Some considerations of this kind
weighed with them, and the chief told us that we might go. We were much
relieved even by this concession.
The guide was loud in condemning Mityoche’s conduct, and set off to lead
us to Zomba. We left the village, but we had not got two hundred yards
away, when we saw a party rushing after us. Some of our last men were
seized and stripped, and in a moment we had iron bullets whistling about
our ears. Self defence was inevitable, and we fired. We did not act for
one moment on the offensive. I had only a small fowling-piece loaded with
shot. I discharged both barrels in the air, and reloaded for the purpose
of showing how quickly our loading could be done, and then remembering
the criticisms on good Bishop Mackenzie we retreated. Fortunately no
one was killed or wounded. We thought we were marching on Zomba, but we
found that our natives, who were afraid to go farther, were merely taking
us across to the Blantyre road. We were much afraid for Buchanan. He
might be safe so long as he staid at the station, but what if he should
come on, as he indicated in his letter, and enter Mityoche’s village
without knowing what sort of a man he had to deal with! We were full of
anxiety as we hurried back to Blantyre, which we reached at six P.M. on
Wednesday, after twenty-four hours of continuous marching.
On the following day, messengers came from Kapeni, regarding men of
his that had been with us, and who were believed to have been taken
prisoners. Some of Kumlomba’s villagers were supposed to be captured
also. We heard, too, that Mityoche’s men had become afraid, and deserted
his village. They had all fled, it was said, to the top of a hill. Next
day, Mr. Walker set out to effect a union with Mr. Buchanan, to see
after prisoners, and do all he could to smooth matters. He had little
doubt he would be successful in getting things peacefully arranged; the
natives, he said, would come and say chonde! chonde! (please, please). I
mentioned to him that in the event of any difficulty it would be better
to go on to Zomba directly. He took with him the two best interpreters
that were at Blantyre, and said he would be able to get on with their
aid. I urged that if there were any further difficulties he should first
see Mr. Buchanan and Bismark. This party, however, got into a fight. When
they came back, I was told that Mityoche’s people had met them; Kumlomba,
the Blantyre headman, got a severe wound below the knee, and one of
Mityoche’s men was killed, while another was believed to be wounded in
the leg. Poor Kumlomba had to be carried back, and was taken to a hut
out in the fields, in anticipation of death. When a bullet breaks a
piece of bone, the case is by the natives considered hopeless. But under
English treatment Kumlomba gradually recovered. Mityoche after this last
adventure, lived for a long time on a hill—as the natives always do in
times of trouble. When Kumlomba heard, in two months after, that Mityoche
had returned and “was eating porridge” at his own village, he thought
it was a great scandal! He would have eagerly gone to attack him. The
natives take a strange pleasure in war—which reminds one of the ancient
days when the women chanted in the cities, “Saul has slain his thousands,
and David his ten thousands.”
So far this adventure with Mityoche had proved very unfortunate. Hitherto
the Missionaries had got on well with the native, much by reason of
their very boldness. When something was done that seemed to proclaim war
against the Missionaries, they had gone straight to the aggressor as if
nothing had happened. Still, unless he was assisted by slave dealers,
Mityoche was not likely to make war upon the Mission. He had not so
strong a force at his command as any of the headmen of the three largest
Blantyre villages. Kapeni and all the leading men around us were most
eager to go and make war against him, so were certain of the Magololo.
(The Directors of the Mission when they heard of the matter recommended
that these men should be asked to punish him.) But unfortunately the
African chiefs would have looked at the step not so much as a method of
administering justice, as an excuse for killing Mityoche and capturing
his wives. There would have been no use of crushing the man, and for
a long time we tried to send messages to him. All these efforts were
fruitless. The great difficulty was that he lived so far away: had he
been within a day’s journey I should have visited him on my Saturday
holiday with every hope of removing the misunderstanding.
At the end of September, I wrote to the Directors, “Now we could go and
use greater force than Mityoche’s, but nothing can be farther from our
inclination. We trust that all you can do to release us from political
work will be done. The Committee must make up their mind to get some one
to do the Police of the country. The only safe alternative is to recall
the Mission.” At this time there was no one to manage the “colony”. The
Directors advised that the natives living at Blantyre should select
one of the laymen to carry out some kind of government. Mr. Walker
perhaps would have been the successful candidate, and might have been
willing to take the duty, but I learned from other home letters that
he and the other artisans were required to work under Mr. Henderson,
who had returned to Blantyre a few days before, and who was expected to
“act as a Christian Magistrate”. But Mr. Henderson himself declined to
take the responsibility of the office. As for myself, I was precluded
as a clergyman of the Church of Scotland, from any thing like civil
or colonial work, and the Directors themselves recognised that the
magistrate must be a layman. At this time I urged that the political work
should be held quite independent of the spiritual. If civil government
was to be well conducted it would require a man’s constant attention. In
connection with this subject, I wrote, “For myself, I am anxious only
for immunity in carrying out the evangelical work, though I by no means
overlook the importance of peace and civilisation. It is hard that a
great many quiet and docile natives should be deprived of this teaching
owing to the presence of a few roughs. We do not think that matters will
ever be satisfactory, while Missionaries are expected to be their own
protectors. Missionaries are ever being called off their proper work for
subjects of the most delicate kind, and for which they have no special
aptitude.”
The Directors had long contemplated the formation of a trading company
in connection with the Mission, and it was hoped that this company would
manage all civil affairs.
The policy of the Scotch Missions on the slave trade, was expressly given
as the reason for this conduct of Mityoche’s. A great many refugees had
come from his district, and according to native views, the reception
of such refugees was a good cause for war. Having been opposed to this
policy all through, I wrote home at this time, “All the Missions to this
region have run their heads against the question of slavery, and out
of it has sprung a world of troubles. We might have done our duty as
missionaries, and let slavery alone entirely. We do not find that the
great Church of the Middle Ages ran against the question, and it had as
many opportunities as we have now. To say the least of it, our taking the
matter up hitherto, has been premature; we have not such a knowledge of
the language and the feelings of the natives as to justify us in dashing
at once into a difficult question like this.”
The remainder of October was quiet. In the course of the month, Mr.
Henderson visited Zomba. We had asked Mr. Buchanan to consider the
expediency of abandoning this station, but he felt quite safe. We also
suggested that he should try a stockade but he wrote, “I do not think
we should try a stockade.[6] The particular kind of wood is not at all
plentiful, and the expense would be more serious than the chance of an
attack.” Upon the mountain side he had very little trouble, but the whole
plain between him and Chirwa was scoured in the interests of the slave
trade.
Soon we had more trouble at Blantyre as the following extracts will show:—
“A little after midnight on November 5, we were told that an attack had
been made on Malopa’s village and that prisoners had been carried off.
This was a new hamlet about twenty minutes’ walk from Blantyre. Malopa
had escaped to bring the intelligence. The attacking party had retreated
by the back of the Nyambadwe, and there was little hope of capturing
them. Mr. Henderson and an artisan hastened to the spot. One house was in
flames and beside another they found the mangled corpse of Nampala, and
his little child standing by it. Nampala’s wife and his elder child had
been captured and carried off. Another woman with two children had been
lodging, for the night, in this unfortunate place. One of her children
had been taken, but she rescued the other, although one of the ruffians
had cut its face severely by a stroke of his gun. It appears the attack
took place in this way. A disturbance was made in the village, and one
house set on fire. Nampala was the first to awake, and when he went out
to see what was the matter, two men standing on opposite sides of his
door poured the contents of their guns into his body. Everyone that
afterwards appeared on the scene was carried off, and the attacking party
retreated in great haste. Next day which was my Saturday holiday, Malopa,
Chendombo, and myself, traced the footprints for miles. The natives
have an almost miraculous power of doing this. They concluded that the
attacking party had come from a distance.
“That night we told Kapeni that one of his people was among the captives.
As to who were the offenders he had no suspicion whatever, but he assured
us that in a few days we should have full information. Nampala’s brother
came to the funeral, accompanied by several friends. The most friendless
object was the little child who being unacquainted with its uncle, and
its other relatives, could only cling to Malopa. We offered to take it
and bring it up like an English infant, but the uncle naturally wished to
keep it.
“This sad incident is an illustration of one of the effects of the Slave
Trade, being quite a normal instance of kidnapping as it goes on around
us. It is the first that has taken place at Blantyre since I came here.
It takes us to the heart of the sufferings of the people. Surely if in
any place on this earth the cry of the oppressed goes up to heaven, it is
in Africa.”
Here was another unfortunate problem. We had learned from the Mityoche
case that it was dangerous to go to negotiate with a chief that had
anything upon his conscience, and no native messengers would go alone.
This attack had been premeditated, and moreover some of our natives had
been forewarned. For several nights before, one of our large villages
had kept awake all night. Long afterwards I went to visit a pupil who
lived about six miles off. While I was in his father’s village, a man
entered it carrying a large basket of fowls. He seemed much astonished to
find me, but I began to talk with him, and after he became acquainted,
he asked me several times whether he might come to Blantyre to sell his
fowls, and he seemed anxious to get a very definite answer. I told him
that I should be very glad to have his company all the way back. Then he
gave over his fowls to two men that were with him, whom he took aside
and instructed to proceed, and he told me that he and his daughter would
wait till the white man was ready to go with them. After a little we
started for Blantyre. The day was exceedingly hot and there was not a
breath of wind. All the trees and bushes were as still as if they had
been pictures. My companion was a very fat man, and at one point we
agreed that we must sit down to rest. After we had rested a while, I
glanced at my watch to know the time. A native has such an eye for the
objective world that a European cannot move a single muscle without
attracting his attention. Perceiving that the man wanted me to explain
myself, I took out the watch and told him what I used it for, and then I
handed it to his little daughter telling her to catch the seconds hand.
While she was amusing herself by trying to do this, her father asked
to see the time-piece, and tried the same experiment. The man at once
became greatly agitated! His fright was unmistakeable—his limbs actually
trembled. He “wanted to go on—we might rest at a village farther along!”
So we proceeded and came up with one of the men that had gone before us
with the fowls. A little farther on two negroes with guns came rapidly
out of the jungle and appeared on the path before us. In a short time
they disappeared as rapidly. Soon after, I happened to look behind me and
found another stranger following noiselessly with a gun. I thought that
the whole appearance and conduct of these men were rather suspicious. No
Missionary in this land goes unarmed, and I had a small revolver by my
side. But on a narrow path in the middle of a dense jungle a person might
easily be assassinated by an unseen hand. I saluted all these mysterious
strangers, and kept up a spirited conversation with my companion. When at
last we came to the end of Kapeni’s territory, he said he would not go
any farther himself, but that his little girl and his slave would go on
to Blantyre and sell the fowls. When near the station I told them where
the storekeeper lived, and then said good-bye. In less than half-an-hour
I found that these two individuals had plunged the whole settlement into
a dreadful state of excitement. Both of them had been captured by the
Blantyre villagers. The man, it was said, had taken part in the recent
slave raid, while the little girl was the daughter of a small chief
who was our most deadly enemy, and had planned the whole attack. I had
some difficulty before I could persuade the villagers to release the
unfortunate captives. I insisted that the little girl at least was quite
innocent, and I was very glad to find that she was unharmed; but the
man’s head, unfortunately, required sticking plaster. As the party had
come to the Station under my escort, they naturally appealed to me for
protection, while I was fairly responsible to the Mission people for
bringing in such friends! The Blantyre natives were always enthusiastic
in the defence of the settlement. On one occasion a great number of them,
on hearing that a woman had been kidnapped, ran a distance of ten miles
in order to intercept the kidnappers.
At this period the whole country was greatly unsettled for a long time,
as the following extracts from my journal will show.
_13th Nov._—“Chologwe came to seek protection from Chiputula. He is one
of the men that left their home to accompany Dr. Livingstone in his
researches here. The majority of these adventurers have established
themselves in the country as chiefs. But Chologwe lived with his
‘brother’ Chiputula, who now threatens to kill him. Chiputula sometimes
gets brandy, and on these occasions this usually fierce man becomes a
perfect tiger. In the beginning of the week we had six other citizens of
Chiputula asking an asylum; but knowing the danger of meddling with the
Magololo chiefs, we advised them to go home. As poor Chologwe had come
so far from his native land, and that in company with a white man, we
thought he might stay till Chiputula enquired about him. Refugees from
the Yao come to avoid being sold; refugees from the Magololo to avoid
being killed.
“_16th._—A letter came from Zomba showing that everything was peaceful
there. So far as we can keep Blantyre and Zomba distinct, they will be
valuable experiments of two widely different methods of mission work.
Blantyre has received refugees, Zomba admits none.
“_19th._—A man came in from Mkanda’s neighbourhood with his wife and two
daughters. He stated that his headman had threatened to kill him because
he would not let his daughters be sold. The man had originally belonged
to the foot of Sochi, and many of our people came to confirm his story.
Being a freeman, he was allowed to stay.
“_20th._—The Livingstonia Mission has had great difficulty in bringing up
a boiler for the steamer. Dr. Laws has sent down many men to accomplish
the work.
“_21st._—The air is full of wars and rumours of war. Many of our
villagers keep watch on their own account all night. Yesterday, carriers
that were sent from Blantyre with food for the Livingstonia workmen,
returned as they came to a scene of bloodshed. Chelomoni, who had come up
the road, was the first to enlighten us on the subject. He said Mkanda
wanted to attack the carriers belonging to Blantyre. Ten men went armed
with guns. They saw a party carrying maize, and immediately fired on
them. One man received a bullet in the forehead; another fell with a
severe wound. If Mkanda did want to attack the Blantyre people he had
played himself a clever trick. The attacked party were, surely enough,
carrying maize, as well as our people, but they had come from Mkanda’s
own district, and were going to sell their maize for salt at the Lower
Chiri.
“It is probable that Mkanda wanted to strike a blow at Blantyre by this
raid. The leader was a headman of his that has had some provocation.
About a week ago he is reported to have lost five slaves in this way:—The
traffic has been so brisk that they had not slave-sticks ready for their
victims; so this headman made the slaves fast by tying. Some of the
slaves, however, had strong teeth; and when one is liberated he is not
always forgetful of his companions. The result was that they escaped and
started for Blantyre. But they were not a match for the pursuers that
tracked their steps. They were all overtaken and slain, when but half-way.
“The Arab slave-traders are clever men and show much tact in managing the
chiefs. They are carrying on their work between our two mission stations.
Their popularity is due to the fact that they deal in rum and powder
which the natives cannot get elsewhere.
“_23rd._—Slave refugees have come in. Those traders have the whole
country in a perfect uproar.
“_29th._—I had a walk with ‘John’ to Ndilande. At every village we have
the pleasure now of meeting some of our scholars spending the Saturday
holiday at home. They are among the first to greet us. There is six times
as much cultivation here as there was the first time I saw the district.
“_8th December._—At Zomba there are four thousand people who wish to be
received under ‘English’ protection. Several of these are at present
kidnapped to make up the Arab caravans. We all feel as if we should like
to go and put these Arabs in stocks. We should be told, however, and
truly,[7] that it was no business of ours to interfere. We wish that some
civil power would take the matter up.”
About the end of the year Mr. Buchanan wrote:—
“Much annoyance has been caused in the district by a company of Arabs,
who have come to Kawinga, on Mount Chikala. Kawinga having been supplied
by them with powder, sent his men, armed with flint-locks, into Malemya’s
territory to capture and carry off all the people they could lay hands
on. At one village, about twenty women and children were carried off
during the night; at another village four people; and in a number of
cases single individuals have been taken away. In the midst of it all,
not a few have lost their lives. Fortunately things have quieted down,
but the natives themselves say that Kawinga is only preparing for another
raid.”
During a visit of slave dealers we often were afraid of being attacked.
We put on night watch-men but, as they frequently fell asleep, their
presence did not entirely remove our anxiety. For a long time I used to
get up about two o’clock in the morning in order to look for enemies. On
such occasions I tried to observe whether there were signs of a new camp
fire. During the darkness of the night, one sees, along the hillsides,
a multitude of fires that are not visible by day. Most of these arise
from trunks of large trees which may keep burning for weeks. Parties on
leaving a camp fire do not extinguish it, and travellers coming after
them gladly make use of the old fire. The natives taught us to look
carefully at all these fires! We had times of great trial. Being obliged
to live in a miserably small hut with little or no furniture, we did not
enjoy robust health, while the food that we could procure was not of the
most tempting character. But we saw what an enormous field for labour
lay around us, and we were seldom home-sick. Instead of writing home
about difficulties, we rather tried to derive amusement from our peculiar
circumstances. Dr. Macklin used to tell us playfully that he had never
written but one grumbling letter, and the steamer sank with its weight!
Now, although the trials of a Missionary’s life might be heavy enough
to sink a steamer any day, we could not afford to do such damage to the
mail service! Usually we were without letters for about two months, and
when a mail did come there was much excitement. We had no inclination,
and indeed no time, to read the daily papers minutely. The events had
happened so long ago, that we regarded them as fragments of ancient
history. But after perusing our letters we found a good mental tonic
in the pages of _Punch_: while scores of our dark pupils came up after
school and studied the _Illustrated London News_ and the _Graphic_.