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Title: How I Found Livingstone - Travels, adventures, and discoveres in Central Africa, including an account of four months' residence with Dr. Livingstone, by Henry M. Stanley
Author: Stanley, Henry M. (Henry Morton), 1841-1904
Language: English
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Copyright Status: Not copyrighted in the United States. If you live elsewhere check the laws of your country before downloading this ebook. See comments about copyright issues at end of book.

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HOW I FOUND LIVINGSTONE

Travels, Adventures and Discoveries in Central Africa including four
months residence with Dr. Livingstone

By Sir Henry M. Stanley, G.C.B.

Abridged



CHAPTER I.-- INTRODUCTORY. MY INSTRUCTIONS TO FIND AND RELIEVE
LIVINGSTONE.


On the sixteenth day of October, in the year of our Lord one thousand
eight hundred and sixty-nine, I was in Madrid, fresh from the carnage
at Valencia. At 10 A.M. Jacopo, at No.-- Calle de la Cruz, handed me a
telegram: It read, "Come to Paris on important business." The telegram
was from Mr. James Gordon Bennett, jun., the young manager of the 'New
York Herald.'

Down came my pictures from the walls of my apartments on the second
floor; into my trunks went my books and souvenirs, my clothes were
hastily collected, some half washed, some from the clothes-line half
dry, and after a couple of hours of hasty hard work my portmanteaus were
strapped up and labelled "Paris."

At 3 P.M. I was on my way, and being obliged to stop at Bayonne a
few hours, did not arrive at Paris until the following night. I went
straight to the 'Grand Hotel,' and knocked at the door of Mr. Bennett's
room.

"Come in," I heard a voice say. Entering, I found Mr. Bennett in bed.
"Who are you?" he asked.

"My name is Stanley," I answered.

"Ah, yes! sit down; I have important business on hand for you."

After throwing over his shoulders his robe-de-chambre Mr. Bennett asked,
"Where do you think Livingstone is?"

"I really do not know, sir."

"Do you think he is alive?"

"He may be, and he may not be," I answered.

"Well, I think he is alive, and that he can be found, and I am going to
send you to find him."

"What!" said I, "do you really think I can find Dr Livingstone? Do you
mean me to go to Central Africa?"

"Yes; I mean that you shall go, and find him wherever you may hear that
he is, and to get what news you can of him, and perhaps"--delivering
himself thoughtfully and deliberately--"the old man may be in
want:--take enough with you to help him should he require it. Of
course you will act according to your own plans, and do what you think
best--BUT FIND LIVINGSTONE!"

Said I, wondering at the cool order of sending one to Central Africa to
search for a man whom I, in common with almost all other men, believed
to be dead, "Have you considered seriously the great expense you are
likely, to incur on account of this little journey?"

"What will it cost?" he asked abruptly.

"Burton and Speke's journey to Central Africa cost between £3,000 and
£5,000, and I fear it cannot be done under £2,500."

"Well, I will tell you what you will do. Draw a thousand pounds now; and
when you have gone through that, draw another thousand, and when that
is spent, draw another thousand, and when you have finished that, draw
another thousand, and so on; but, FIND LIVINGSTONE."

Surprised but not confused at the order--for I knew that Mr. Bennett
when once he had made up his mind was not easily drawn aside from his
purpose--I yet thought, seeing it was such a gigantic scheme, that he
had not quite considered in his own mind the pros and cons of the case;
I said, "I have heard that should your father die you would sell the
'Herald' and retire from business."

"Whoever told you that is wrong, for there is not, money enough in New
York city to buy the 'New York Herald.' My father has made it a
great paper, but I mean to make it greater. I mean that it shall be a
newspaper in the true sense of the word. I mean that it shall publish
whatever news will be interesting to the world at no matter what cost."

"After that," said I, "I have nothing more to say. Do you mean me to go
straight on to Africa to search for Dr. Livingstone?"

"No! I wish you to go to the inauguration of the Suez Canal first,
and then proceed up the Nile. I hear Baker is about starting for Upper
Egypt. Find out what you can about his expedition, and as you go up
describe as well as possible whatever is interesting for tourists; and
then write up a guide--a practical one--for Lower Egypt; tell us about
whatever is worth seeing and how to see it.

"Then you might as well go to Jerusalem; I hear Captain Warren is making
some interesting discoveries there. Then visit Constantinople, and find
out about that trouble between the Khedive and the Sultan.

"Then--let me see--you might as well visit the Crimea and those old
battle-grounds, Then go across the Caucasus to the Caspian Sea; I hear
there is a Russian expedition bound for Khiva. From thence you may get
through Persia to India; you could write an interesting letter from
Persepolis.

"Bagdad will be close on your way to India; suppose you go there, and
write up something about the Euphrates Valley Railway. Then, when you
have come to India, you can go after Livingstone. Probably you will hear
by that time that Livingstone is on his way to Zanzibar; but if not,
go into the interior and find him. If alive, get what news of his
discoveries you can; and if you find he is dead, bring all possible
proofs of his being dead. That is all. Good-night, and God be with you."

"Good-night, Sir," I said, "what it is in the power of human nature to
do I will do; and on such an errand as I go upon, God will be with me."

I lodged with young Edward King, who is making such a name in New
England. He was just the man who would have delighted to tell the
journal he was engaged upon what young Mr. Bennett was doing, and what
errand I was bound upon.

I should have liked to exchange opinions with him upon the probable
results of my journey, but I dared not do so. Though oppressed with the
great task before me, I had to appear as if only going to be present at
the Suez Canal. Young King followed me to the express train bound
for Marseilles, and at the station we parted: he to go and read the
newspapers at Bowles' Reading-room--I to Central Africa and--who knows?

There is no need to recapitulate what I did before going to Central
Africa.

I went up the Nile and saw Mr. Higginbotham, chief engineer in Baker's
Expedition, at Philae, and was the means of preventing a duel between
him and a mad young Frenchman, who wanted to fight Mr. Higginbotham with
pistols, because that gentleman resented the idea of being taken for an
Egyptian, through wearing a fez cap. I had a talk with Capt. Warren at
Jerusalem, and descended one of the pits with a sergeant of engineers
to see the marks of the Tyrian workmen on the foundation-stones of the
Temple of Solomon. I visited the mosques of Stamboul with the Minister
Resident of the United States, and the American Consul-General. I
travelled over the Crimean battle-grounds with Kinglake's glorious books
for reference in my hand. I dined with the widow of General Liprandi
at Odessa. I saw the Arabian traveller Palgrave at Trebizond, and Baron
Nicolay, the Civil Governor of the Caucasus, at Tiflis. I lived with the
Russian Ambassador while at Teheran, and wherever I went through
Persia I received the most hospitable welcome from the gentlemen of
the Indo-European Telegraph Company; and following the examples of many
illustrious men, I wrote my name upon one of the Persepolitan monuments.
In the month of August, 1870, I arrived in India.

On the 12th of October I sailed on the barque 'Polly' from Bombay
to Mauritius. As the 'Polly' was a slow sailer, the passage lasted
thirty-seven days. On board this barque was a William Lawrence
Farquhar--hailing from Leith, Scotland--in the capacity of first-mate.
He was an excellent navigator, and thinking he might be useful to me,
I employed him; his pay to begin from the date we should leave Zanzibar
for Bagamoyo. As there was no opportunity of getting, to Zanzibar
direct, I took ship to Seychelles. Three or four days after arriving
at Mahe, one of the Seychelles group, I was fortunate enough to get
a passage for myself, William Lawrence Farquhar, and an Arab boy from
Jerusalem, who was to act as interpreter--on board an American whaling
vessel, bound for Zanzibar; at which port we arrived on the 6th of
January, 1871.

I have skimmed over my travels thus far, because these do not concern
the reader. They led over many lands, but this book is only a narrative
of my search after Livingstone, the great African traveller. It is
an Icarian flight of journalism, I confess; some even have called it
Quixotic; but this is a word I can now refute, as will be seen before
the reader arrives at the "Finis."

I have used the word "soldiers" in this book. The armed escort a
traveller engages to accompany him into East Africa is composed of free
black men, natives of Zanzibar, or freed slaves from the interior,
who call themselves "askari," an Indian name which, translated, means
"soldiers." They are armed and equipped like soldiers, though they
engage themselves also as servants; but it would be more pretentious in
me to call them servants, than to use the word "soldiers;" and as I
have been more in the habit of calling them soldiers than "my
watuma"--servants--this habit has proved too much to be overcome. I have
therefore allowed the word "soldiers" to appear, accompanied, however,
with this apology.

But it must be remembered that I am writing a narrative of my own
adventures and travels, and that until I meet Livingstone, I presume
the greatest interest is attached to myself, my marches, my troubles,
my thoughts, and my impressions. Yet though I may sometimes write, "my
expedition," or "my caravan," it by no means follows that I arrogate to
myself this right. For it must be distinctly understood that it is the
"'New York Herald' Expedition," and that I am only charged with its
command by Mr. James Gordon Bennett, the proprietor of the 'New York
Herald,' as a salaried employ of that gentleman.

One thing more; I have adopted the narrative form of relating the story
of the search, on account of the greater interest it appears to possess
over the diary form, and I think that in this manner I avoid the
great fault of repetition for which some travellers have been severely
criticised.



CHAPTER II. -- ZANZIBAR.

On the morning of the 6th January, 1871, we were sailing through the
channel that separates the fruitful island of Zanzibar from Africa. The
high lands of the continent loomed like a lengthening shadow in the grey
of dawn. The island lay on our left, distant but a mile, coming out
of its shroud of foggy folds bit by bit as the day advanced, until it
finally rose clearly into view, as fair in appearance as the fairest of
the gems of creation. It appeared low, but not flat; there were gentle
elevations cropping hither and yon above the languid but graceful tops
of the cocoa-trees that lined the margin of the island, and there were
depressions visible at agreeable intervals, to indicate where a cool
gloom might be found by those who sought relief from a hot sun. With
the exception of the thin line of sand, over which the sap-green water
rolled itself with a constant murmur and moan, the island seemed buried
under one deep stratum of verdure.

The noble bosom of the strait bore several dhows speeding in and out of
the bay of Zanzibar with bellying sails. Towards the south, above the
sea line of the horizon, there appeared the naked masts of several
large ships, and to the east of these a dense mass of white, flat-topped
houses. This was Zanzibar, the capital of the island;--which soon
resolved itself into a pretty large and compact city, with all the
characteristics of Arab architecture. Above some of the largest houses
lining the bay front of the city streamed the blood-red banner of the
Sultan, Seyd Burghash, and the flags of the American, English, North
German Confederation, and French Consulates. In the harbor were thirteen
large ships, four Zanzibar men-of-war, one English man-of-war--the
'Nymphe,' two American, one French, one Portuguese, two English, and
two German merchantmen, besides numerous dhows hailing from Johanna
and Mayotte of the Comoro Islands, dhows from Muscat and Cutch--traders
between India, the Persian Gulf, and Zanzibar.

It was with the spirit of true hospitality and courtesy that Capt.
Francis R. Webb, United States Consul, (formerly of the United States
Navy), received me. Had this gentleman not rendered me such needful
service, I must have condescended to take board and lodging at a house
known as "Charley's," called after the proprietor, a Frenchman, who has
won considerable local notoriety for harboring penniless itinerants, and
manifesting a kindly spirit always, though hidden under such a rugged
front; or I should have been obliged to pitch my double-clothed American
drill tent on the sandbeach of this tropical island, which was by no
means a desirable thing.

But Capt. Webb's opportune proposal to make his commodious and
comfortable house my own; to enjoy myself, with the request that I would
call for whatever I might require, obviated all unpleasant alternatives.

One day's life at Zanzibar made me thoroughly conscious of my ignorance
respecting African people and things in general. I imagined I had read
Burton and Speke through, fairly well, and that consequently I had
penetrated the meaning, the full importance and grandeur, of the work I
was about to be engaged upon. But my estimates, for instance, based upon
book information, were simply ridiculous, fanciful images of African
attractions were soon dissipated, anticipated pleasures vanished, and
all crude ideas began to resolve themselves into shape.

I strolled through the city. My general impressions are of crooked,
narrow lanes, white-washed houses, mortar-plastered streets, in the
clean quarter;--of seeing alcoves on each side, with deep recesses,
with a fore-ground of red-turbaned Banyans, and a back-ground of flimsy
cottons, prints, calicoes, domestics and what not; or of floors crowded
with ivory tusks; or of dark corners with a pile of unginned and loose
cotton; or of stores of crockery, nails, cheap Brummagem ware, tools,
&c., in what I call the Banyan quarter;--of streets smelling very
strong--in fact, exceedingly, malodorous, with steaming yellow and
black bodies, and woolly heads, sitting at the doors of miserable huts,
chatting, laughing, bargaining, scolding, with a compound smell of
hides, tar, filth, and vegetable refuse, in the negro quarter;--of
streets lined with tall, solid-looking houses, flat roofed, of great
carved doors with large brass knockers, with baabs sitting cross-legged
watching the dark entrance to their masters' houses; of a shallow
sea-inlet, with some dhows, canoes, boats, an odd steam-tub or two,
leaning over on their sides in a sea of mud which the tide has just left
behind it; of a place called "M'nazi-Moya," "One Cocoa-tree," whither
Europeans wend on evenings with most languid steps, to inhale the sweet
air that glides over the sea, while the day is dying and the red sun is
sinking westward; of a few graves of dead sailors, who paid the forfeit
of their lives upon arrival in this land; of a tall house wherein lives
Dr. Tozer, "Missionary Bishop of Central Africa," and his school of
little Africans; and of many other things, which got together into such
a tangle, that I had to go to sleep, lest I should never be able to
separate the moving images, the Arab from the African; the African from
the Banyan; the Banyan from the Hindi; the Hindi from the European, &c.

Zanzibar is the Bagdad, the Ispahan, the Stamboul, if you like, of East
Africa. It is the great mart which invites the ivory traders from the
African interior. To this market come the gum-copal, the hides, the
orchilla weed, the timber, and the black slaves from Africa. Bagdad had
great silk bazaars, Zanzibar has her ivory bazaars; Bagdad once traded
in jewels, Zanzibar trades in gum-copal; Stamboul imported Circassian
and Georgian slaves; Zanzibar imports black beauties from Uhiyow,
Ugindo, Ugogo, Unyamwezi and Galla.

The same mode of commerce obtains here as in all Mohammedan
countries--nay, the mode was in vogue long before Moses was born. The
Arab never changes. He brought the custom of his forefathers with him
when he came to live on this island. He is as much of an Arab here as
at Muscat or Bagdad; wherever he goes to live he carries with him his
harem, his religion, his long robe, his shirt, his slippers, and his
dagger. If he penetrates Africa, not all the ridicule of the negroes can
make him change his modes of life. Yet the land has not become Oriental;
the Arab has not been able to change the atmosphere. The land is
semi-African in aspect; the city is but semi-Arabian.

To a new-comer into Africa, the Muscat Arabs of Zanzibar are studies.
There is a certain empressement about them which we must admire. They
are mostly all travellers. There are but few of them who have not been
in many dangerous positions, as they penetrated Central Africa in search
of the precious ivory; and their various experiences have given
their features a certain unmistakable air of-self-reliance, or of
self-sufficiency; there is a calm, resolute, defiant, independent air
about them, which wins unconsciously one's respect. The stories that
some of these men could tell, I have often thought, would fill many a
book of thrilling adventures.

For the half-castes I have great contempt. They are neither black nor
white, neither good nor bad, neither to be admired nor hated. They are
all things, at all times; they are always fawning on the great Arabs,
and always cruel to those unfortunates brought under their yoke. If I
saw a miserable, half-starved negro, I was always sure to be told
he belonged to a half-caste. Cringing and hypocritical, cowardly and
debased, treacherous and mean, I have always found him. He seems to be
for ever ready to fall down and worship a rich Arab, but is relentless
to a poor black slave. When he swears most, you may be sure he lies
most, and yet this is the breed which is multiplied most at Zanzibar.

The Banyan is a born trader, the beau-ideal of a sharp money-making man.
Money flows to his pockets as naturally as water down a steep. No pang
of conscience will prevent him from cheating his fellow man. He excels
a Jew, and his only rival in a market is a Parsee; an Arab is a babe to
him. It is worth money to see him labor with all his energy, soul and
body, to get advantage by the smallest fraction of a coin over a native.
Possibly the native has a tusk, and it may weigh a couple of frasilahs,
but, though the scales indicate the weight, and the native declares
solemnly that it must be more than two frasilahs, yet our Banyan will
asseverate and vow that the native knows nothing whatever about it, and
that the scales are wrong; he musters up courage to lift it--it is a
mere song, not much more than a frasilah. "Come," he will say, "close,
man, take the money and go thy way. Art thou mad?" If the native
hesitates, he will scream in a fury; he pushes him about, spurns the
ivory with contemptuous indifference,--never was such ado about nothing;
but though he tells the astounded native to be up and going, he never
intends the ivory shall leave his shop.

The Banyans exercise, of all other classes, most influence on the trade
of Central Africa. With the exception of a very few rich Arabs, almost
all other traders are subject to the pains and penalties which usury
imposes. A trader desirous to make a journey into the interior, whether
for slaves or ivory, gum-copal, or orchilla weed, proposes to a Banyan
to advance him $5,000, at 50, 60, or 70 per cent. interest. The Banyan
is safe enough not to lose, whether the speculation the trader is
engaged upon pays or not. An experienced trader seldom loses, or if
he has been unfortunate, through no deed of his own, he does not lose
credit; with the help of the Banyan, he is easily set on his feet again.

We will suppose, for the sake of illustrating how trade with the
interior is managed, that the Arab conveys by his caravan $5,000's worth
of goods into the interior. At Unyanyembe the goods are worth $10,000;
at Ujiji, they are worth $15,000: they have trebled in price. Five doti,
or $7.50, will purchase a slave in the markets of Ujiji that will fetch
in Zanzibar $30. Ordinary menslaves may be purchased for $6 which would
sell for $25 on the coast. We will say he purchases slaves to the full
extent of his means--after deducting $1,500 expenses of carriage to
Ujiji and back--viz. $3,500, the slaves--464 in number, at $7-50 per
head--would realize $13,920 at Zanzibar! Again, let us illustrate trade
in ivory. A merchant takes $5,000 to Ujiji, and after deducting $1,500
for expenses to Ujiji, and back to Zanzibar, has still remaining $3,500
in cloth and beads, with which he purchases ivory. At Ujiji ivory is
bought at $20 the frasilah, or 35 lbs., by which he is enabled with
$3,500 to collect 175 frasilahs, which, if good ivory, is worth about
$60 per frasilah at Zanzibar. The merchant thus finds that he has
realized $10,500 net profit! Arab traders have often done better than
this, but they almost always have come back with an enormous margin of
profit.

The next people to the Banyans in power in Zanzibar are the Mohammedan
Hindis. Really it has been a debateable subject in my mind whether the
Hindis are not as wickedly determined to cheat in trade as the Banyans.
But, if I have conceded the palm to the latter, it has been done very
reluctantly. This tribe of Indians can produce scores of unconscionable
rascals where they can show but one honest merchant. One of the
honestest among men, white or black, red or yellow, is a Mohammedan
Hindi called Tarya Topan. Among the Europeans at Zanzibar, he has become
a proverb for honesty, and strict business integrity. He is enormously
wealthy, owns several ships and dhows, and is a prominent man in the
councils of Seyd Burghash. Tarya has many children, two or three of
whom are grown-up sons, whom he has reared up even as he is himself. But
Tarya is but a representative of an exceedingly small minority.

The Arabs, the Banyans, and the Mohammedan Hindis, represent the higher
and the middle classes. These classes own the estates, the ships, and
the trade. To these classes bow the half-caste and the negro.

The next most important people who go to make up the mixed population of
this island are the negroes. They consist of the aborigines, Wasawahili,
Somalis, Comorines, Wanyamwezi, and a host of tribal representatives of
Inner Africa.

To a white stranger about penetrating Africa, it is a most interesting
walk through the negro quarters of the Wanyamwezi and the Wasawahili.
For here he begins to learn the necessity of admitting that negroes are
men, like himself, though of a different colour; that they have passions
and prejudices, likes and dislikes, sympathies and antipathies, tastes
and feelings, in common with all human nature. The sooner he perceives
this fact, and adapts himself accordingly, the easier will be his
journey among the several races of the interior. The more plastic his
nature, the more prosperous will be his travels.

Though I had lived some time among the negroes of our Southern States,
my education was Northern, and I had met in the United States black men
whom I was proud to call friends. I was thus prepared to admit any black
man, possessing the attributes of true manhood or any good qualities, to
my friendship, even to a brotherhood with myself; and to respect him
for such, as much as if he were of my own colour and race. Neither his
colour, nor any peculiarities of physiognomy should debar him with me
from any rights he could fairly claim as a man. "Have these men--these
black savages from pagan Africa," I asked myself, "the qualities
which make man loveable among his fellows? Can these men--these
barbarians--appreciate kindness or feel resentment like myself?" was my
mental question as I travelled through their quarters and observed their
actions. Need I say, that I was much comforted in observing that they
were as ready to be influenced by passions, by loves and hates, as I
was myself; that the keenest observation failed to detect any great
difference between their nature and my own?

The negroes of the island probably number two-thirds of the entire
population. They compose the working-class, whether enslaved or free.
Those enslaved perform the work required on the plantations, the
estates, and gardens of the landed proprietors, or perform the work of
carriers, whether in the country or in the city. Outside the city they
may be seen carrying huge loads on their heads, as happy as possible,
not because they are kindly treated or that their work is light, but
because it is their nature to be gay and light-hearted, because they,
have conceived neither joys nor hopes which may not be gratified at
will, nor cherished any ambition beyond their reach, and therefore have
not been baffled in their hopes nor known disappointment.

Within the city, negro carriers may be heard at all hours, in couples,
engaged in the transportation of clove-bags, boxes of merchandise, &c.,
from store to "godown" and from "go-down" to the beach, singing a kind
of monotone chant for the encouragement of each other, and for the
guiding of their pace as they shuffle through the streets with
bare feet. You may recognise these men readily, before long, as old
acquaintances, by the consistency with which they sing the tunes they
have adopted. Several times during a day have I heard the same couple
pass beneath the windows of the Consulate, delivering themselves of
the same invariable tune and words. Some might possibly deem the songs
foolish and silly, but they had a certain attraction for me, and I
considered that they were as useful as anything else for the purposes
they were intended.

The town of Zanzibar, situate on the south-western shore of the island,
contains a population of nearly one hundred thousand inhabitants; that
of the island altogether I would estimate at not more than two hundred
thousand inhabitants, including all races.

The greatest number of foreign vessels trading with this port are
American, principally from New York and Salem. After the American come
the German, then come the French and English. They arrive loaded with
American sheeting, brandy, gunpowder, muskets, beads, English cottons,
brass-wire, china-ware, and other notions, and depart with ivory,
gum-copal, cloves, hides, cowries, sesamum, pepper, and cocoa-nut oil.

The value of the exports from this port is estimated at $3,000,000, and
the imports from all countries at $3,500,000.

The Europeans and Americans residing in the town of Zanzibar are either
Government officials, independent merchants, or agents for a few great
mercantile houses in Europe and America.

The climate of Zanzibar is not the most agreeable in the world. I have
heard Americans and Europeans condemn it most heartily. I have also seen
nearly one-half of the white colony laid up in one day from sickness. A
noxious malaria is exhaled from the shallow inlet of Malagash, and the
undrained filth, the garbage, offal, dead mollusks, dead pariah dogs,
dead cats, all species of carrion, remains of men and beasts unburied,
assist to make Zanzibar a most unhealthy city; and considering that it
it ought to be most healthy, nature having pointed out to man the means,
and having assisted him so far, it is most wonderful that the ruling
prince does not obey the dictates of reason.

The bay of Zanzibar is in the form of a crescent, and on the
south-western horn of it is built the city. On the east Zanzibar is
bounded almost entirely by the Malagash Lagoon, an inlet of the sea. It
penetrates to at least two hundred and fifty yards of the sea behind
or south of Shangani Point. Were these two hundred and fifty yards cut
through by a ten foot ditch, and the inlet deepened slightly, Zanzibar
would become an island of itself, and what wonders would it not effect
as to health and salubrity! I have never heard this suggestion made, but
it struck me that the foreign consuls resident at Zanzibar might suggest
this work to the Sultan, and so get the credit of having made it as
healthy a place to live in as any near the equator. But apropos of this,
I remember what Capt. Webb, the American Consul, told me on my first
arrival, when I expressed to him my wonder at the apathy and inertness
of men born with the indomitable energy which characterises Europeans
and Americans, of men imbued with the progressive and stirring instincts
of the white people, who yet allow themselves to dwindle into pallid
phantoms of their kind, into hypochondriacal invalids, into hopeless
believers in the deadliness of the climate, with hardly a trace of that
daring and invincible spirit which rules the world.

"Oh," said Capt. Webb, "it is all very well for you to talk about energy
and all that kind of thing, but I assure you that a residence of four or
five years on this island, among such people as are here, would make you
feel that it was a hopeless task to resist the influence of the example
by which the most energetic spirits are subdued, and to which they must
submit in time, sooner or later. We were all terribly energetic when we
first came here, and struggled bravely to make things go on as we were
accustomed to have them at home, but we have found that we were
knocking our heads against granite walls to no purpose whatever. These
fellows--the Arabs, the Banyans, and the Hindis--you can't make them go
faster by ever so much scolding and praying, and in a very short time
you see the folly of fighting against the unconquerable. Be patient, and
don't fret, that is my advice, or you won't live long here."

There were three or four intensely busy men, though, at Zanzibar, who
were out at all hours of the day. I know one, an American; I fancy
I hear the quick pit-pat of his feet on the pavement beneath the
Consulate, his cheery voice ringing the salutation, "Yambo!" to every
one he met; and he had lived at Zanzibar twelve years.

I know another, one of the sturdiest of Scotchmen, a most
pleasant-mannered and unaffected man, sincere in whatever he did
or said, who has lived at Zanzibar several years, subject to the
infructuosities of the business he has been engaged in, as well as to
the calor and ennui of the climate, who yet presents as formidable a
front as ever to the apathetic native of Zanzibar. No man can charge
Capt. H. C. Fraser, formerly of the Indian Navy, with being apathetic.

I might with ease give evidence of the industry of others, but they are
all my friends, and they are all good. The American, English, German,
and French residents have ever treated me with a courtesy and kindness
I am not disposed to forget. Taken as a body, it would be hard to find
a more generous or hospitable colony of white men in any part of the
world.



CHAPTER III. -- ORGANIZATION OF THE EXPEDITION.


I was totally ignorant of the interior, and it was difficult at first to
know, what I needed, in order to take an Expedition into Central Africa.
Time was precious, also, and much of it could not be devoted to inquiry
and investigation. In a case like this, it would have been a godsend, I
thought, had either of the three gentlemen, Captains Burton, Speke,
or Grant, given some information on these points; had they devoted a
chapter upon, "How to get ready an Expedition for Central Africa." The
purpose of this chapter, then, is to relate how I set about it, that
other travellers coming after me may have the benefit of my experience.

These are some of the questions I asked myself, as I tossed on my bed at
night:--

"How much money is required?"

"How many pagazis, or carriers?

"How many soldiers?"

"How much cloth?"

"How many beads?"

"How much wire?"

"What kinds of cloth are required for the different tribes?"

Ever so many questions to myself brought me no clearer the exact point
I wished to arrive at. I scribbled over scores of sheets of paper, made
estimates, drew out lists of material, calculated the cost of keeping
one hundred men for one year, at so many yards of different kinds of
cloth, etc. I studied Burton, Speke, and Grant in vain. A good deal of
geographical, ethnological, and other information appertaining to the
study of Inner Africa was obtainable, but information respecting the
organization of an expedition requisite before proceeding to Africa, was
not in any book. The Europeans at Zanzibar knew as little as possible
about this particular point. There was not one white man at Zanzibar who
could tell how many dotis a day a force of one hundred men required to
buy food for one day on the road. Neither, indeed, was it their business
to know. But what should I do at all, at all? This was a grand question.

I decided it were best to hunt up an Arab merchant who had been engaged
in the ivory trade, or who was fresh from the interior.

Sheikh Hashid was a man of note and of wealth in Zanzibar. He had
himself despatched several caravans into the interior, and was
necessarily acquainted with several prominent traders who came to
his house to gossip about their adventures and gains. He was also the
proprietor of the large house Capt. Webb occupied; besides, he lived
across the narrow street which separated his house from the Consulate.
Of all men Sheikh Hashid was the man to be consulted, and he was
accordingly invited to visit me at the Consulate.

From the grey-bearded and venerable-looking Sheikh, I elicited more
information about African currency, the mode of procedure, the quantity
and quality of stuffs I required, than I had obtained from three months'
study of books upon Central Africa; and from other Arab merchants
to whom the ancient Sheikh introduced me, I received most valuable
suggestions and hints, which enabled me at last to organize an
Expedition.

The reader must bear in mind that a traveller requires only that which
is sufficient for travel and exploration that a superfluity of goods or
means will prove as fatal to him as poverty of supplies. It is on
this question of quality and quantity that the traveller has first to
exercise his judgment and discretion.

My informants gave me to understand that for one hundred men, 10 doti,
or 40 yards of cloth per diem, would suffice for food. The proper course
to pursue, I found, was to purchase 2,000 doti of American sheeting,
1,000 doti of Kaniki, and 650 doti of the coloured cloths, such as
Barsati, a great favourite in Unyamwezi; Sohari, taken in Ugogo;
Ismahili, Taujiri, Joho, Shash, Rehani, Jamdani or Kunguru-Cutch, blue
and pink. These were deemed amply sufficient for the subsistence of
one hundred men for twelve months. Two years at this rate would require
4,000 doti = 16,000 yards of American sheeting; 2,000 doti = 8,000 yards
of Kaniki; 1,300 doti = 5,200 yards of mixed coloured cloths. This was
definite and valuable information to me, and excepting the lack of some
suggestions as to the quality of the sheeting, Kaniki, and coloured
cloths, I had obtained all I desired upon this point.

Second in importance to the amount of cloth required was the quantity
and quality of the beads necessary. Beads, I was told, took the place
of cloth currency among some tribes of the interior. One tribe preferred
white to black beads, brown to yellow, red to green, green to white, and
so on. Thus, in Unyamwezi, red (sami-sami) beads would readily be taken,
where all other kinds would be refused; black (bubu) beads, though
currency in Ugogo, were positively worthless with all other tribes; the
egg (sungomazzi) beads, though valuable in Ujiji and Uguhha, would be
refused in all other countries; the white (Merikani) beads though
good in Ufipa, and some parts of Usagara and Ugogo, would certainly be
despised in Useguhha and Ukonongo. Such being the case, I was obliged to
study closely, and calculate the probable stay of an expedition in the
several countries, so as to be sure to provide a sufficiency of each
kind, and guard against any great overplus. Burton and Speke, for
instance, were obliged to throw away as worthless several hundred fundo
of beads.

For example, supposing the several nations of Europe had each its own
currency, without the means of exchange, and supposing a man was about
to travel through Europe on foot, before starting he would be apt to
calculate how many days it would take him to travel through France; how
many through Prussia, Austria, and Russia, then to reckon the expense
he would be likely to incur per day. If the expense be set down at a
napoleon per day, and his journey through France would occupy thirty
days, the sum required forgoing and returning might be properly set down
at sixty napoleons, in which case, napoleons not being current money
in Prussia, Austria, or Russia, it would be utterly useless for him
to burden himself with the weight of a couple of thousand napoleons in
gold.

My anxiety on this point was most excruciating. Over and over I studied
the hard names and measures, conned again and again the polysyllables;
hoping to be able to arrive some time at an intelligible definition
of the terms. I revolved in my mind the words Mukunguru, Ghulabio,
Sungomazzi, Kadunduguru, Mutunda, Samisami, Bubu, Merikani, Hafde,
Lunghio-Rega, and Lakhio, until I was fairly beside myself. Finally,
however, I came to the conclusion that if I reckoned my requirements at
fifty khete, or five fundo per day, for two years, and if I purchased
only eleven varieties, I might consider myself safe enough. The purchase
was accordingly made, and twenty-two sacks of the best species were
packed and brought to Capt. Webb's house, ready for transportation to
Bagamoyo.

After the beads came the wire question. I discovered, after considerable
trouble, that Nos. 5 and 6--almost of the thickness of telegraph
wire--were considered the best numbers for trading purposes. While beads
stand for copper coins in Africa, cloth measures for silver; wire
is reckoned as gold in the countries beyond the Tan-ga-ni-ka.* Ten
frasilah, or 350 lbs., of brass-wire, my Arab adviser thought, would be
ample.


     * It will be seen that I differ from Capt. Burton in the
     spelling of this word, as I deem the letter "y" superfluous.


Having purchased the cloth, the beads, and the wire, it was with no
little pride that I surveyed the comely bales and packages lying piled
up, row above row, in Capt. Webb's capacious store-room. Yet my work
was not ended, it was but beginning; there were provisions,
cooking-utensils, boats, rope, twine, tents, donkeys, saddles, bagging,
canvas, tar, needles, tools, ammunition, guns, equipments, hatchets,
medicines, bedding, presents for chiefs--in short, a thousand things not
yet purchased. The ordeal of chaffering and haggling with steel-hearted
Banyans, Hindis, Arabs, and half-castes was most trying. For instance, I
purchased twenty-two donkeys at Zanzibar. $40 and $50 were asked, which
I had to reduce to $15 or $20 by an infinite amount of argument worthy,
I think, of a nobler cause. As was my experience with the ass-dealers so
was it with the petty merchants; even a paper of pins was not purchased
without a five per cent. reduction from the price demanded, involving,
of course, a loss of much time and patience.

After collecting the donkeys, I discovered there were no pack-saddles
to be obtained in Zanzibar. Donkeys without pack-saddles were of no use
whatever. I invented a saddle to be manufactured by myself and my white
man Farquhar, wholly from canvas, rope, and cotton.

Three or four frasilahs of cotton, and ten bolts of canvas were required
for the saddles. A specimen saddle was made by myself in order to test
its efficiency. A donkey was taken and saddled, and a load of 140
lbs. was fastened to it, and though the animal--a wild creature of
Unyamwezi--struggled and reared frantic ally, not a particle gave
way. After this experiment, Farquhar was set to work to manufacture
twenty-one more after the same pattern. Woollen pads were also purchased
to protect the animals from being galled. It ought to be mentioned here,
perhaps, that the idea of such a saddle as I manufactured, was first
derived from the Otago saddle, in use among the transport-trains of the
English army in Abyssinia.

A man named John William Shaw--a native of London, England, lately
third-mate of the American ship 'Nevada'--applied to me for work. Though
his discharge from the 'Nevada' was rather suspicious, yet he possessed
all the requirements of such a man as I needed, and was an experienced
hand with the palm and needle, could cut canvas to fit anything, was
a pretty good navigator, ready and willing, so far as his professions
went.. I saw no reason to refuse his services, and he was accordingly
engaged at $300 per annum, to rank second to William L. Farquhar.
Farquhar was a capital navigator and excellent mathematician; was
strong, energetic, and clever.

The next thing I was engaged upon was to enlist, arm, and equip, a
faithful escort of twenty men for the road. Johari, the chief dragoman
of the American Consulate, informed me that he knew where certain of
Speke's "Faithfuls" were yet to be found. The idea had struck me before,
that if I could obtain the services of a few men acquainted with the
ways of white men, and who could induce other good men to join the
expedition I was organizing, I might consider myself fortunate. More
especially had I thought of Seedy Mbarak Mombay, commonly called
"Bombay," who though his head was "woodeny," and his hands "clumsy," was
considered to be the "faithfulest" of the "Faithfuls."

With the aid of the dragoman Johari, I secured in a few hours the
services of Uledi (Capt. Grant's former valet), Ulimengo, Baruti,
Ambari, Mabruki (Muinyi Mabruki--Bull-headed Mabruki, Capt. Burton's
former unhappy valet)--five of Speke's "Faithfuls." When I asked them if
they were willing to join another white man's expedition to Ujiji,
they replied very readily that they were willing to join any brother
of "Speke's." Dr. John Kirk, Her Majesty's Consul at Zanzibar, who was
present, told them that though I was no brother of "Speke's," I spoke
his language. This distinction mattered little to them: and I heard
them, with great delight, declare their readiness to go anywhere with
me, or do anything I wished.

Mombay, as they called him, or Bombay, as we know him, had gone to
Pemba, an island lying north of Zanzibar. Uledi was sure Mombay
would jump with joy at the prospect of another expedition. Johari was
therefore commissioned to write to him at Pemba, to inform him of the
good fortune in store for him.

On the fourth morning after the letter had been despatched, the famous
Bombay made his appearance, followed in decent order and due rank by
the "Faithfuls" of "Speke." I looked in vain for the "woodeny head" and
"alligator teeth" with which his former master had endowed him. I saw
a slender short man of fifty or thereabouts, with a grizzled head, an
uncommonly high, narrow forehead, with a very large mouth, showing teeth
very irregular, and wide apart. An ugly rent in the upper front row of
Bombay's teeth was made with the clenched fist of Capt. Speke in Uganda
when his master's patience was worn out, and prompt punishment became
necessary. That Capt. Speke had spoiled him with kindness was
evident, from the fact that Bombay had the audacity to stand up for a
boxing-match with him. But these things I only found out, when, months
afterwards, I was called upon to administer punishment to him myself.
But, at his first appearance, I was favourably impressed with Bombay,
though his face was rugged, his mouth large, his eyes small, and his
nose flat.

"Salaam aliekum," were the words he greeted me with. "Aliekum salaam,"
I replied, with all the gravity I could muster. I then informed him I
required him as captain of my soldiers to Ujiji. His reply was that he
was ready to do whatever I told him, go wherever I liked in short, be a
pattern to servants, and a model to soldiers. He hoped I would give him
a uniform, and a good gun, both of which were promised.

Upon inquiring for the rest of the "Faithfuls" who accompanied Speke
into Egypt, I was told that at Zanzibar there were but six. Ferrajji,
Maktub, Sadik, Sunguru, Manyu, Matajari, Mkata, and Almas, were dead;
Uledi and Mtamani were in Unyanyembe; Hassan had gone to Kilwa, and
Ferahan was supposed to be in Ujiji.

Out of the six "Faithfuls," each of whom still retained his medal for
assisting in the "Discovery of the Sources of the Nile," one,
poor Mabruki, had met with a sad misfortune, which I feared would
incapacitate him from active usefulness.

Mabruki the "Bull-headed," owned a shamba (or a house with a garden
attached to it), of which he was very proud. Close to him lived a
neighbour in similar circumstances, who was a soldier of Seyd Majid,
with whom Mabruki, who was of a quarrelsome disposition, had a feud,
which culminated in the soldier inducing two or three of his comrades to
assist him in punishing the malevolent Mabruki, and this was done in a
manner that only the heart of an African could conceive. They tied
the unfortunate fellow by his wrists to a branch of a tree, and after
indulging their brutal appetite for revenge in torturing him, left him
to hang in that position for two days. At the expiration of the second
day, he was accidentally discovered in a most pitiable condition. His
hands had swollen to an immense size, and the veins of one hand having
been ruptured, he had lost its use. It is needless to say that, when the
affair came to Seyd Majid's ears, the miscreants were severely punished.
Dr. Kirk, who attended the poor fellow, succeeded in restoring one hand
to something of a resemblance of its former shape, but the other hand is
sadly marred, and its former usefulness gone for ever.

However, I engaged Mabruki, despite his deformed hands, his ugliness and
vanity, because he was one of Speke's "Faithfuls." For if he but wagged
his tongue in my service, kept his eyes open, and opened his mouth at
the proper time, I assured myself I could make him useful.

Bombay, my captain of escort, succeeded in getting eighteen more free
men to volunteer as "askari" (soldiers), men whom he knew would not
desert, and for whom he declared himself responsible. They were an
exceedingly fine-looking body of men, far more intelligent in appearance
than I could ever have believed African barbarians could be. They hailed
principally from Uhiyow, others from Unyamwezi, some came from Useguhha
and Ugindo.

Their wages were set down at $36 each man per annum, or $3 each per
month. Each soldier was provided with a flintlock musket, powder horn,
bullet-pouch, knife, and hatchet, besides enough powder and ball for 200
rounds.

Bombay, in consideration of his rank, and previous faithful services
to Burton, Speke and Grant, was engaged at $80 a year, half that sum
in advance, a good muzzle-loading rifle, besides, a pistol, knife, and
hatchet were given to him, while the other five "Faithfuls," Ambari,
Mabruki, Ulimengo, Baruti, and Uledi, were engaged at $40 a year, with
proper equipments as soldiers.

Having studied fairly well all the East African travellers' books
regarding Eastern and Central Africa, my mind had conceived the
difficulties which would present themselves during the prosecution of my
search after Dr. Livingstone.

To obviate all of these, as well as human wit could suggest, was my
constant thought and aim.

"Shall I permit myself, while looking from Ujiji over the waters of
the Tanganika Lake to the other side, to be balked on the threshold of
success by the insolence of a King Kannena or the caprice of a Hamed
bin Sulayyam?" was a question I asked myself. To guard against such a
contingency I determined to carry my own boats. "Then," I thought, "if
I hear of Livingstone being on the Tanganika, I can launch my boat and
proceed after him."

I procured one large boat, capable of carrying twenty persons, with
stores and goods sufficient for a cruise, from the American Consul, for
the sum of $80, and a smaller one from another American gentleman for
$40. The latter would hold comfortably six men, with suitable stores.

I did not intend to carry the boats whole or bodily, but to strip them
of their boards, and carry the timbers and thwarts only. As a substitute
for the boards, I proposed to cover each boat with a double canvas skin
well tarred. The work of stripping them and taking them to pieces fell
to me. This little job occupied me five days.

I also packed them up, for the pagazis. Each load was carefully weighed,
and none exceeded 68 lbs. in weight. John Shaw excelled himself in the
workmanship displayed on the canvas boats; when finished, they fitted
their frames admirably. The canvas--six bolts of English hemp, No.
3--was procured from Ludha Damji, who furnished it from the Sultan's
storeroom.

An insuperable obstacle to rapid transit in Africa is the want of
carriers, and as speed was the main object of the Expedition under my
command, my duty was to lessen this difficulty as much as possible.
My carriers could only be engaged after arriving at Bagamoyo, on the
mainland. I had over twenty good donkeys ready, and I thought a
cart adapted for the footpaths of Africa might prove an advantage.
Accordingly I had a cart constructed, eighteen inches wide and five feet
long, supplied with two fore-wheels of a light American wagon, more for
the purpose of conveying the narrow ammunition-boxes. I estimated that
if a donkey could carry to Unyanyembe a load of four frasilahs, or 140
lbs., he ought to be able to draw eight frasilahs on such a cart,
which would be equal to the carrying capacity of four stout pagazis or
carriers. Events will prove, how my theories were borne out by practice.

When my purchases were completed, and I beheld them piled up, tier after
tier, row upon row, here a mass of cooking-utensils, there bundles of
rope, tents, saddles, a pile of portmanteaus and boxes, containing every
imaginable thing, I confess I was rather abashed at my own temerity.
Here were at least six tons of material! "How will it ever be possible,"
I thought, "to move all this inert mass across the wilderness stretching
between the sea, and the great lakes of Africa? Bah, cast all doubts
away, man, and have at them! 'Sufficient for the day is the evil
thereof,' without borrowing from the morrow."

The traveller must needs make his way into the African interior after
a fashion very different from that to which he has been accustomed in
other countries. He requires to take with him just what a ship must have
when about to sail on a long voyage. He must have his slop chest, his
little store of canned dainties, and his medicines, besides which, he
must have enough guns, powder, and ball to be able to make a series of
good fights if necessary. He must have men to convey these miscellaneous
articles; and as a man's maximum load does not exceed 70 lbs., to convey
11,000 lbs. requires nearly 160 men.

Europe and the Orient, even Arabia and Turkestan, have royal ways
of travelling compared to Africa. Specie is received in all those
countries, by which a traveller may carry his means about with him on
his own person. Eastern and Central Africa, however, demand a necklace,
instead of a cent; two yards of American sheeting, instead of half a
dollar, or a florin, and a kitindi of thick brass-wire, in place of a
gold piece.

The African traveller can hire neither wagons nor camels, neither
horses nor mules, to proceed with him into the interior. His means of
conveyance are limited to black and naked men, who demand at least $15 a
head for every 70 lbs. weight carried only as far as Unyanyembe.

One thing amongst others my predecessors omitted to inform men bound for
Africa, which is of importance, and that is, that no traveller should
ever think of coming to Zanzibar with his money in any other shape than
gold coin. Letters of credit, circular notes, and such civilized things
I have found to be a century ahead of Zanzibar people.

Twenty and twenty-five cents deducted out of every dollar I drew on
paper is one of the unpleasant, if not unpleasantest things I have
committed to lasting memory. For Zanzibar is a spot far removed from all
avenues of European commerce, and coin is at a high premium. A man
may talk and entreat, but though he may have drafts, cheques, circular
notes, letters of credit, a carte blanche to get what he wants, out of
every dollar must, be deducted twenty, twenty-five and thirty cents,
so I was told, and so was my experience. What a pity there is no
branch-bank here!

I had intended to have gone into Africa incognito. But the fact that a
white man, even an American, was about to enter Africa was soon known
all over Zanzibar. This fact was repeated a thousand times in the
streets, proclaimed in all shop alcoves, and at the custom-house. The
native bazaar laid hold of it, and agitated it day and night until my
departure. The foreigners, including the Europeans, wished to know the
pros and cons of my coming in and going out.

My answer to all questions, pertinent and impertinent, was, I am going
to Africa. Though my card bore the words

     ________________________________________
    |                                        |
    |            HENRY M.  STANLEY.          |
    |                                        |
    |                                        |
    |  New York Herald.                      |
    |________________________________________|

very few, I believe, ever coupled the words 'New York Herald' with a
search after "Doctor Livingstone." It was not my fault, was it?

Ah, me! what hard work it is to start an expedition alone! What with
hurrying through the baking heat of the fierce relentless sun from shop
to shop, strengthening myself with far-reaching and enduring patience
far the haggling contest with the livid-faced Hindi, summoning courage
and wit to brow-beat the villainous Goanese, and match the foxy Banyan,
talking volumes throughout the day, correcting estimates, making up
accounts, superintending the delivery of purchased articles, measuring
and weighing them, to see that everything was of full measure and
weight, overseeing the white men Farquhar and Shaw, who were busy on
donkey saddles, sails, tents, and boats for the Expedition, I felt, when
the day was over, as though limbs and brain well deserved their rest.
Such labours were mine unremittingly for a month.

Having bartered drafts on Mr. James Gordon Bennett to the amount of
several thousand dollars for cloth, beads, wire, donkeys, and a thousand
necessaries, having advanced pay to the white men, and black escort
of the Expedition, having fretted Capt. Webb and his family more than
enough with the din of preparation, and filled his house with my goods,
there was nothing further to do but to leave my formal adieus with the
Europeans, and thank the Sultan and those gentlemen who had assisted me,
before embarking for Bagamoyo.

The day before my departure from Zanzibar the American Consul, having
just habited himself in his black coat, and taking with him an extra
black hat, in order to be in state apparel, proceeded with me to the
Sultan's palace. The prince had been generous to me; he had presented me
with an Arab horse, had furnished me with letters of introduction to his
agents, his chief men, and representatives in the interior, and in many
other ways had shown himself well disposed towards me.

The palace is a large, roomy, lofty, square house close to the fort,
built of coral, and plastered thickly with lime mortar. In appearance
it is half Arabic and half Italian. The shutters are Venetian blinds
painted a vivid green, and presenting a striking contrast to the
whitewashed walls. Before the great, lofty, wide door were ranged in
two crescents several Baluch and Persian mercenaries, armed with
curved swords and targes of rhinoceros hide. Their dress consisted of a
muddy-white cotton shirt, reaching to the ancles, girdled with a leather
belt thickly studded with silver bosses.

As we came in sight a signal was passed to some person inside the
entrance. When within twenty yards of the door, the Sultan, who was
standing waiting, came down the steps, and, passing through the ranks,
advanced toward us, with his right hand stretched out, and a genial
smile of welcome on his face. On our side we raised our hats, and shook
hands with him, after which, doing according as he bade us, we passed
forward, and arrived on the highest step near the entrance door. He
pointed forward; we bowed and arrived at the foot of an unpainted
and narrow staircase to turn once more to the Sultan. The Consul, I
perceived, was ascending sideways, a mode of progression which I saw was
intended for a compromise with decency and dignity. At the top of the
stairs we waited, with our faces towards the up-coming Prince. Again we
were waved magnanimously forward, for before us was the reception-hall
and throne-room. I noticed, as I marched forward to the furthest end,
that the room was high, and painted in the Arabic style, that the carpet
was thick and of Persian fabric, that the furniture consisted of a dozen
gilt chairs and a chandelier,

We were seated; Ludha Damji, the Banyan collector of customs, a
venerable-looking old man, with a shrewd intelligent face, sat on the
right of the Sultan; next to him was the great Mohammedan merchant Tarya
Topan who had come to be present at the interview, not only because he
was one of the councillors of His Highness, but because he also took a
lively interest in this American Expedition. Opposite to Ludha sat Capt.
Webb, and next to him I was seated, opposite Tarya Topan. The Sultan sat
in a gilt chair between the Americans and the councillors. Johari
the dragoman stood humbly before the Sultan, expectant and ready to
interpret what we had to communicate to the Prince.

The Sultan, so far as dress goes, might be taken for a Mingrelian
gentleman, excepting, indeed, for the turban, whose ample folds in
alternate colours of red, yellow, brown, and white, encircled his head.
His long robe was of dark cloth, cinctured round the waist with his rich
sword-belt, from which was suspended a gold-hilted scimitar, encased in
a scabbard also enriched with gold: His legs and feet were bare, and had
a ponderous look about them, since he suffered from that strange curse
of Zanzibar--elephantiasis. His feet were slipped into a pair of watta
(Arabic for slippers), with thick soles and a strong leathern band over
the instep. His light complexion and his correct features, which are
intelligent and regular, bespeak the Arab patrician. They indicate,
however, nothing except his high descent and blood; no traits of
character are visible unless there is just a trace of amiability, and
perfect contentment with himself and all around.

Such is Prince, or Seyd Burghash, Sultan of Zanzibar and Pemba, and the
East coast of Africa, from Somali Land to the Mozambique, as he appeared
to me.

Coffee was served in cups supported by golden finjans, also some
cocoa-nut milk, and rich sweet sherbet.

The conversation began with the question addressed to the Consul.

"Are you well?"

Consul.--"Yes, thank you. How is His Highness?"

Highness.--"Quite well!"

Highness to me.--"Are you well?"

Answer.--"Quite well, thanks!"

The Consul now introduces business; and questions about my travels
follow from His Highness--

"How do you like Persia?"

"Have you seen Kerbela, Bagdad, Masr, Stamboul?"

"Have the Turks many soldiers?"

"How many has Persia?"

"Is Persia fertile?"

"How do you like Zanzibar?"

Having answered each question to his Highness' satisfaction, he handed
me letters of introduction to his officers at Bagamoyo and Kaole, and a
general introductory letter to all Arab merchants whom I might meet on
the road, and concluded his remarks to me, with the expressed hope, that
on whatever mission I was bound, I should be perfectly successful.

We bowed ourselves out of his presence in much the same manner that we
had bowed ourselves in, he accompanying us to the great entrance door.

Mr. Goodhue of Salem, an American merchant long resident in Zanzibar,
presented me, as I gave him my adieu, with a blooded bay horse, imported
from the Cape of Good Hope, and worth, at least at Zanzibar, $500.

Feb. 4.--By the 4th of February, twenty-eight days from the date of my
arrival at Zanzibar, the organization and equipment of the "'New
York Herald' Expedition" was complete; tents and saddles had been
manufactured, boats and sails were ready. The donkeys brayed, and the
horses neighed impatiently for the road.

Etiquette demanded that I should once more present my card to the
European and American Consuls at Zanzibar, and the word "farewell" was
said to everybody.

On the fifth day, four dhows were anchored before the American
Consulate. Into one were lifted the two horses, into two others the
donkeys, into the fourth, the largest, the black escort, and bulky
moneys of the Expedition.

A little before noon we set sail. The American flag, a present to the
Expedition by that kind-hearted lady, Mrs. Webb, was raised to the
mast-head; the Consul, his lady, and exuberant little children, Mary
and Charley, were on the housetop waving the starry banner, hats, and
handkerchiefs, a token of farewell to me and mine. Happy people, and
good! may their course and ours be prosperous, and may God's blessing
rest on us all!



CHAPTER IV. -- LIFE AT BAGAMOYO.


The isle of Zanzibar with its groves of cocoa-nut, mango, clove,
and cinnamon, and its sentinel islets of Chumbi and French, with its
whitewashed city and jack-fruit odor, with its harbor and ships that
tread the deep, faded slowly from view, and looking westward, the
African continent rose, a similar bank of green verdure to that which
had just receded till it was a mere sinuous line above the horizon,
looming in a northerly direction to the sublimity of a mountain chain.
The distance across from Zanzibar to Bagamoyo may be about twenty-five
miles, yet it took the dull and lazy dhows ten hours before they dropped
anchor on the top of the coral reef plainly visible a few feet below the
surface of the water, within a hundred yards of the beach.

The newly-enlisted soldiers, fond of noise and excitement, discharged
repeated salvos by way of a salute to the mixed crowd of Arabs, Banyans,
and Wasawahili, who stood on the beach to receive the Musungu (white
man), which they did with a general stare and a chorus of "Yambo, bana?"
(how are you, master?)

In our own land the meeting with a large crowd is rather a tedious
operation, as our independent citizens insist on an interlacing of
fingers, and a vigorous shaking thereof before their pride is satisfied,
and the peaceful manifestation endorsed; but on this beach, well lined
with spectators, a response of "Yambo, bana!" sufficed, except with one
who of all there was acknowledged the greatest, and who, claiming, like
all great men, individual attention, came forward to exchange another
"Yambo!" on his own behalf, and to shake hands. This personage with a
long trailing turban, was Jemadar Esau, commander of the Zanzibar force
of soldiers, police, or Baluch gendarmes stationed at Bagamoyo. He had
accompanied Speke and Grant a good distance into the interior, and they
had rewarded him liberally. He took upon himself the responsibility of
assisting in the debarkation of the Expedition, and unworthy as was his
appearance, disgraceful as he was in his filth, I here commend him for
his influence over the rabble to all future East African travellers.

Foremost among those who welcomed us was a Father of the Society of
St.-Esprit, who with other Jesuits, under Father Superior Horner, have
established a missionary post of considerable influence and merit at
Bagamoyo. We were invited to partake of the hospitality of the Mission,
to take our meals there, and, should we desire it, to pitch our camp
on their grounds. But however strong the geniality of the welcome and
sincere the heartiness of the invitation, I am one of those who prefer
independence to dependence if it is possible. Besides, my sense of the
obligation between host and guest had just had a fine edge put upon
it by the delicate forbearance of my kind host at Zanzibar, who had
betrayed no sign of impatience at the trouble I was only too conscious
of having caused him. I therefore informed the hospitable Padre, that
only for one night could I suffer myself to be enticed from my camp.

I selected a house near the western outskirts of the town, where there
is a large open square through which the road from Unyanyembe enters.
Had I been at Bagamoyo a month, I could not have bettered my location.
My tents were pitched fronting the tembe (house) I had chosen, enclosing
a small square, where business could be transacted, bales looked over,
examined, and marked, free from the intrusion of curious sightseers.
After driving the twenty-seven animals of the Expedition into the
enclosure in the rear of the house, storing the bales of goods, and
placing a cordon of soldiers round, I proceeded to the Jesuit Mission,
to a late dinner, being tired and ravenous, leaving the newly-formed
camp in charge of the white men and Capt. Bombay.

The Mission is distant from the town a good half mile, to the north of
it; it is quite a village of itself, numbering some fifteen or sixteen
houses. There are more than ten padres engaged in the establishment,
and as many sisters, and all find plenty of occupation in educing from
native crania the fire of intelligence. Truth compels me to state that
they are very successful, having over two hundred pupils, boys and
girls, in the Mission, and, from the oldest to the youngest, they show
the impress of the useful education they have received.

The dinner furnished to the padres and their guest consisted of as many
plats as a first-class hotel in Paris usually supplies, and cooked with
nearly as much skill, though the surroundings were by no means equal.
I feel assured also that the padres, besides being tasteful in their
potages and entrees, do not stultify their ideas for lack of that
element which Horace, Hafiz, and Byron have praised so much. The
champagne--think of champagne Cliquot in East Africa!--Lafitte, La Rose,
Burgundy, and Bordeaux were of first-rate quality, and the meek and
lowly eyes of the fathers were not a little brightened under the
vinous influence. Ah! those fathers understand life, and appreciate its
duration. Their festive board drives the African jungle fever from their
doors, while it soothes the gloom and isolation which strike one with
awe, as one emerges from the lighted room and plunges into the depths
of the darkness of an African night, enlivened only by the wearying
monotone of the frogs and crickets, and the distant ululation of the
hyena. It requires somewhat above human effort, unaided by the ruby
liquid that cheers, to be always suave and polite amid the dismalities
of native life in Africa.

After the evening meal, which replenished my failing strength, and for
which I felt the intensest gratitude, the most advanced of the pupils
came forward, to the number of twenty, with brass instruments,
thus forming a full band of music. It rather astonished me to hear
instrumental sounds issue forth in harmony from such woolly-headed
youngsters; to hear well-known French music at this isolated port,
to hear negro boys, that a few months ago knew nothing beyond the
traditions of their ignorant mothers, stand forth and chant Parisian
songs about French valor and glory, with all the sangfroid of gamins
from the purlieus of Saint-Antoine.

I had a most refreshing night's rest, and at dawn I sought out my
camp, with a will to enjoy the new life now commencing. On counting the
animals, two donkeys were missing; and on taking notes of my African
moneys, one coil of No. 6 wire was not to be found. Everybody had
evidently fallen on the ground to sleep, oblivious of the fact that
on the coast there are many dishonest prowlers at night. Soldiers were
despatched to search through the town and neighbourhood, and Jemadar
Esau was apprised of our loss, and stimulated to discover the animals
by the promise of a reward. Before night one of the missing donkeys was
found outside the town nibbling at manioc-leaves, but the other animal
and the coil of wire were never found.

Among my visitors this first day at Bagamoyo was Ali bin Salim, a
brother of the famous Sayd bin Salim, formerly Ras Kafilah to Burton
and Speke, and subsequently to Speke and Grant. His salaams were very
profuse, and moreover, his brother was to be my agent in Unyamwezi, so
that I did not hesitate to accept his offer of assistance. But, alas,
for my white face and too trustful nature! this Ali bin Salim turned out
to be a snake in the grass, a very sore thorn in my side. I was invited
to his comfortable house to partake of coffee. I went there: the coffee
was good though sugarless, his promises were many, but they proved
valueless. Said he to me, "I am your friend; I wish to serve you., what
can I do for you?" Replied I, "I am obliged to you, I need a good friend
who, knowing the language and Customs of the Wanyamwezi, can procure me
the pagazis I need and send me off quickly. Your brother is acquainted
with the Wasungu (white men), and knows that what they promise they make
good. Get me a hundred and forty pagazis and I will pay you your price."
With unctuous courtesy, the reptile I was now warmly nourishing; said,
"I do not want anything from you, my friend, for such a slight service,
rest content and quiet; you shall not stop here fifteen days. To-morrow
morning I will come and overhaul your bales to see what is needed." I
bade him good morning, elated with the happy thought that I was soon to
tread the Unyanyembe road.

The reader must be made acquainted with two good and sufficient reasons
why I was to devote all my energy to lead the Expedition as quickly as
possible from Bagamoyo.

First, I wished to reach Ujiji before the news reached Livingstone that
I was in search of him, for my impression of him was that he was a man
who would try to put as much distance as possible between us, rather
than make an effort to shorten it, and I should have my long journey for
nothing.

Second, the Masika, or rainy season, would soon be on me, which, if it
caught me at Bagamoyo, would prevent my departure until it was over,
which meant a delay of forty days, and exaggerated as the rains were by
all men with whom I came in contact, it rained every day for forty days
without intermission. This I knew was a thing to dread; for I had my
memory stored with all kinds of rainy unpleasantnesses. For instance,
there was the rain of Virginia and its concomitant horrors--wetness,
mildew, agues, rheumatics, and such like; then there were the English
rains, a miserable drizzle causing the blue devils; then the rainy
season of Abyssinia with the flood-gates of the firmament opened, and
an universal down-pour of rain, enough to submerge half a continent in
a few hours; lastly, there was the pelting monsoon of India, a steady
shut-in-house kind of rain. To which of these rains should I compare
this dreadful Masika of East Africa? Did not Burton write much about
black mud in Uzaramo? Well, a country whose surface soil is called black
mud in fine weather, what can it be called when forty days' rain beat on
it, and feet of pagazis and donkeys make paste of it? These were natural
reflections, induced by the circumstances of the hour, and I found
myself much exercised in mind in consequence.

Ali bin Salim, true to his promise, visited my camp on the morrow, with
a very important air, and after looking at the pile of cloth bales,
informed me that I must have them covered with mat-bags. He said he
would send a man to have them measured, but he enjoined me not to make
any bargain for the bags, as he would make it all right.

While awaiting with commendable patience the 140 pagazis promised by
Ali bin Salim we were all employed upon everything that thought could
suggest needful for crossing the sickly maritime region, so that we
might make the transit before the terrible fever could unnerve us,
and make us joyless. A short experience at Bagamoya showed us what we
lacked, what was superfluous, and what was necessary. We were visited
one night by a squall, accompanied by furious rain. I had $1,500 worth
of pagazi cloth in my tent. In the morning I looked and lo! the drilling
had let in rain like a sieve, and every yard of cloth was wet. It
occupied two days afterwards to dry the cloths, and fold them again. The
drill-tent was condemned, and a No. 5 hemp-canvas tent at onto prepared.
After which I felt convinced that my cloth bales, and one year's
ammunition, were safe, and that I could defy the Masika.

In the hurry of departure from Zanzibar, and in my ignorance of how
bales should be made, I had submitted to the better judgment and ripe
experience of one Jetta, a commission merchant, to prepare my bales for
carriage. Jetta did not weigh the bales as he made them up, but piled
the Merikani, Kaniki, Barsati, Jamdani, Joho, Ismahili, in alternate
layers, and roped the same into bales. One or two pagazis came to my
camp and began to chaffer; they wished to see the bales first, before
they would make a final bargain. They tried to raise them up--ugh! ugh!
it was of no use, and withdrew. A fine Salter's spring balance was hung
up, and a bale suspended to the hook; the finger indicated 105 lbs. or
3 frasilah, which was just 35 lbs. or one frasilah overweight. Upon
putting all the bales to this test, I perceived that Jetta's guess-work,
with all his experience, had caused considerable trouble to me.

The soldiers were set to work to reopen and repack, which latter task
is performed in the following manner:--We cut a doti, or four yards
of Merikani, ordinarily sold at Zanzibar for $2.75 the piece of thirty
yards, and spread out. We take a piece or bolt of good Merikani, and
instead of the double fold given it by the Nashua and Salem mills, we
fold it into three parts, by which the folds have a breadth of a foot;
this piece forms the first layer, and will weigh nine pounds; the second
layer consists of six pieces of Kaniki, a blue stuff similar to the
blouse stuff of France, and the blue jeans of America, though much
lighter; the third layer is formed of the second piece of Merikani, the
fourth of six more pieces of Kaniki, the fifth of Merikani, the sixth
of Kaniki as before, and the seventh and last of Merikani. We have thus
four pieces of Merikani, which weigh 36 lbs., and 18 pieces of Kaniki
weighing also 36 lbs., making a total of 72 lbs., or a little more than
two frasilahs; the cloth is then folded singly over these layers, each
corner tied to another. A bundle of coir-rope is then brought, and two
men, provided with a wooden mallet for beating and pressing the bale,
proceed to tie it up with as much nicety as sailors serve down rigging.

When complete, a bale is a solid mass three feet and a half long, a
foot deep, and a foot wide. Of these bales I had to convey eighty-two to
Unyanyembe, forty of which consisted solely of the Merikani and Kaniki.
The other forty-two contained the Merikani and coloured cloths, which
latter were to serve as honga or tribute cloths, and to engage another
set of pagazis from Unyanyembe to Ujiji, and from Ujiji to the regions
beyond.

The fifteenth day asked of me by Ali bin Salim for the procuring of the
pagazis passed by, and there was not the ghost of a pagazi in my camp.
I sent Mabruki the Bullheaded to Ali bin Salim, to convey my salaams and
express a hope that he had kept his word. In half an hour's time Mabruki
returned with the reply of the Arab, that in a few days he would be able
to collect them all; but, added Mabruki, slyly, "Bana, I don't believe
him. He said aloud to himself, in my hearing, 'Why should I get the
Musungu pagazis? Seyd Burghash did not send a letter to me, but to the
Jemadar. Why should I trouble myself about him? Let Seyd Burghash write
me a letter to that purpose, and I will procure them within two days."'

To my mind this was a time for action: Ali bin Salim should see that it
was ill trifling with a white man in earnest to start. I rode down to
his house to ask him what he meant.

His reply was, Mabruki had told a lie as black as his face. He had never
said anything approaching to such a thing. He was willing to become my
slave--to become a pagazi himself. But here I stopped the voluble Ali,
and informed him that I could not think of employing him in the capacity
of a pagazi, neither could I find it in my heart to trouble Seyd
Burghash to write a direct letter to him, or to require of a man who
had deceived me once, as Ali bin Salim had, any service of any nature
whatsoever. It would be better, therefore, if Ali bin Salim would stay
away from my camp, and not enter it either in person or by proxy.

I had lost fifteen days, for Jemadar Sadur, at Kaole, had never stirred
from his fortified house in that village in my service, save to pay a
visit, after the receipt of the Sultan's letter. Naranji, custom-house
agent at Kaoie, solely under the thumb of the great Ludha Damji, had
not responded to Ludha's worded request that he would procure pagazis,
except with winks, nods, and promises, and it is but just stated how I
fared at the hands of Ali bin Salim. In this extremity I remembered the
promise made to me by the great merchant of Zanzibar--Tarya Topan--a
Mohammedan Hindi--that he would furnish me with a letter to a young man
named Soor Hadji Palloo, who was said to be the best man in Bagamoyo to
procure a supply of pagazis.

I despatched my Arab interpreter by a dhow to Zanzibar, with a very
earnest request to Capt. Webb that he would procure from Tarya Topan the
introductory letter so long delayed. It was the last card in my hand.

On the third day the Arab returned, bringing with him not only the
letter to Soor Hadji Palloo, but an abundance of good things from
the ever-hospitable house of Mr. Webb. In a very short time after the
receipt of his letter, the eminent young man Soor Hadji Palloo came to
visit me, and informed me he had been requested by Tarya Topan to hire
for me one hundred and forty pagazis to Unyanyembe in the shortest time
possible. This he said would be very expensive, for there were scores
of Arabs and Wasawabili merchants on the look out for every caravan that
came in from the interior, and they paid 20 doti, or 80 yards of cloth,
to each pagazi. Not willing or able to pay more, many of these merchants
had been waiting as long as six months before they could get their
quota. "If you," continued he, "desire to depart quickly, you must pay
from 25 to 40 doti, and I can send you off before one month is ended."
In reply, I said, "Here are my cloths for pagazis to the amount of
$1,750, or 3,500 doti, sufficient to give one hundred and forty men 25
doti each. The most I am willing to pay is 25 doti: send one hundred and
forty pagazis to Unyanyembe with my cloth and wire, and I will make
your heart glad with the richest present you have ever received." With a
refreshing naivete, the "young man" said he did not want any present,
he would get me my quota of pagazis, and then I could tell the "Wasungu"
what a good "young man" he was, and consequently the benefit he would
receive would be an increase of business. He closed his reply with the
astounding remark that he had ten pagazis at his house already, and if I
would be good enough to have four bales of cloth, two bags of beads,
and twenty coils of wire carried to his house, the pagazis could leave
Bagamoyo the next day, under charge of three soldiers.

"For," he remarked, "it is much better and cheaper to send many small
caravans than one large one. Large caravans invite attack, or are
delayed by avaricious chiefs upon the most trivial pretexts, while small
ones pass by without notice."

The bales and the beads were duly carried to Soor Hadji Palloo's house,
and the day passed with me in mentally congratulating myself upon my
good fortune, in complimenting the young Hindi's talents for business,
the greatness and influence of Tarya Topan, and the goodness of Mr.
Webb in thus hastening my departure from Bagamoyo. I mentally vowed a
handsome present, and a great puff in my book, to Soor Hadji Palloo, and
it was with a glad heart that I prepared these soldiers for their march
to Unyayembe.

The task of preparing the first caravan for the Unyanyembe road informed
me upon several things that have escaped the notice of my predecessors
in East Africa, a timely knowledge of which would have been of infinite
service to me at Zanzibar, in the purchase and selection of sufficient
and proper cloth.

The setting out of the first caravan enlightened me also on the subject
of honga, or tribute. Tribute had to be packed by itself, all of
choice cloth; for the chiefs, besides being avaricious, are also very
fastidious. They will not accept the flimsy cloth of the pagazi, but
a royal and exceedingly high-priced dabwani, Ismahili, Rehani, or a
Sohari, or dotis of crimson broad cloth. The tribute for the first
caravan cost $25. Having more than one hundred and forty pagazis to
despatch, this tribute money would finally amount to $330 in gold, with
a minimum of 25c. on each dollar. Ponder on this, O traveller! I lay
bare these facts for your special instruction.

But before my first caravan was destined to part company with me,
Soor Hadji Palloo--worthy young man--and I were to come to a definite
understanding about money matters. The morning appointed for departure
Soor Hadji Palloo came to my hut and presented his bill, with all the
gravity of innocence, for supplying the pagazis with twenty-five doti
each as their hire to Unyanyembe, begging immediate payment in money.
Words fail to express the astonishment I naturally felt, that this
sharp-looking young man should so soon have forgotten the verbal
contract entered into between him and myself the morning previous, which
was to the effect that out of the three thousand doti stored in my tent,
and bought expressly for pagazi hire, each and every man hired for me
as carriers from Bagamoyo to Unyanyembe, should be paid out of the store
there in my tent, when I asked if he remembered the contract, he replied
in the affirmative: his reasons for breaking it so soon were, that he
wished to sell his cloths, not mine, and for his cloths he should want
money, not an exchange. But I gave him to comprehend that as he was
procuring pagazis for me, he was to pay my pagazis with my cloths; that
all the money I expected to pay him, should be just such a sum I thought
adequate for his trouble as my agent, and that only on those terms
should he act for me in this or any other matter, and that the "Musungu"
was not accustomed to eat his words.

The preceding paragraph embodies many more words than are contained
in it. It embodies a dialogue of an hour, an angry altercation of
half-an-hour's duration, a vow taken on the part of Soor Hadji Palloo,
that if I did not take his cloths he should not touch my business, many
tears, entreaties, woeful penitence, and much else, all of which were
responded to with, "Do as I want you to do, or do nothing." Finally came
relief, and a happy ending. Soor Hadji Palloo went away with a bright
face, taking with him the three soldiers' posho (food), and honga
(tribute) for the caravan. Well for me that it ended so, and that
subsequent quarrels of a similar nature terminated so peaceably,
otherwise I doubt whether my departure from Bagamoyo would have happened
so early as it did. While I am on this theme, and as it really engrossed
every moment of my time at Bagamoyo, I may as well be more explicit
regarding Boor Hadji Palloo and his connection with my business.

Boor Hadji Palloo was a smart young man of business, energetic, quick at
mental calculation, and seemed to be born for a successful salesman. His
eyes were never idle; they wandered over every part of my person, over
the tent, the bed, the guns, the clothes, and having swung clear round,
began the silent circle over again. His fingers were never at rest, they
had a fidgety, nervous action at their tips, constantly in the act of
feeling something; while in the act of talking to me, he would lean over
and feel the texture of the cloth of my trousers, my coat, or my shoes
or socks: then he would feel his own light jamdani shirt or dabwain
loin-cloth, until his eyes casually resting upon a novelty, his body
would lean forward, and his arm was stretched out with the willing
fingers. His jaws also were in perpetual motion, caused by vile habits
he had acquired of chewing betel-nut and lime, and sometimes tobacco and
lime. They gave out a sound similar to that of a young shoat, in the
act of sucking. He was a pious Mohammedan, and observed the external
courtesies and ceremonies of the true believers. He would affably greet
me, take off his shoes, enter my tent protesting he was not fit to sit
in my presence, and after being seated, would begin his ever-crooked
errand. Of honesty, literal and practical honesty, this youth knew
nothing; to the pure truth he was an utter stranger; the falsehoods he
had uttered during his short life seemed already to have quenched the
bold gaze of innocence from his eyes, to have banished the colour of
truthfulness from his features, to have transformed him--yet a stripling
of twenty--into a most accomplished rascal, and consummate expert in
dishonesty.

During the six weeks I encamped at Bagamoyo, waiting for my quota of
men, this lad of twenty gave me very much trouble. He was found out half
a dozen times a day in dishonesty, yet was in no way abashed by it. He
would send in his account of the cloths supplied to the pagazis, stating
them to be 25 paid to each; on sending a man to inquire I would find the
greatest number to have been 20, and the smallest 12. Soor Hadji Palloo
described the cloths to be of first-class quality, Ulyah cloths, worth
in the market four times more than the ordinary quality given to the
pagazis, yet a personal examination would prove them to be the flimsiest
goods sold, such as American sheeting 2 1/2 feet broad, and worth $2.75
per 30 yards a piece at Zanzibar, or the most inferior Kaniki, which is
generally sold at $9 per score. He would personally come to my camp
and demand 40 lbs. of Sami-Sami, Merikani, and Bubu beads for posho,
or caravan rations; an inspection of their store before departure from
their first camp from Bagamoyo would show a deficiency ranging from 5
to 30 lbs. Moreover, he cheated in cash-money, such as demanding $4 for
crossing the Kingani Ferry for every ten pagazis, when the fare was $2
for the same number; and an unconscionable number of pice (copper coins
equal in value to 3/4 of a cent) were required for posho. It was every
day for four weeks that this system of roguery was carried out. Each day
conceived a dozen new schemes; every instant of his time he seemed to
be devising how to plunder, until I was fairly at my wits' end how to
thwart him. Exposure before a crowd of his fellows brought no blush of
shame to his sallow cheeks; he would listen with a mere shrug of the
shoulders and that was all, which I might interpret any way it pleased
me. A threat to reduce his present had no effect; a bird in the hand was
certainly worth two in the bush for him, so ten dollars' worth of goods
stolen and in his actual possession was of more intrinsic value than the
promise of $20 in a few days, though it was that of a white man.

Readers will of course ask themselves why I did not, after the first
discovery of these shameless proceedings, close my business with him,
to which I make reply, that I could not do without him unless his equal
were forthcoming, that I never felt so thoroughly dependent on any one
man as I did upon him; without his or his duplicate's aid, I must have
stayed at Bagamoyo at least six months, at the end of which time the
Expedition would have become valueless, the rumour of it having been
blown abroad to the four winds. It was immediate departure that was
essential to my success--departure from Bagamoyo--after which it might
be possible for me to control my own future in a great measure.

These troubles were the greatest that I could at this time imagine.
I have already stated that I had $1,750 worth of pagazis' clothes,
or 3,500 doti, stored in my tent, and above what my bales contained.
Calculating one hundred and forty pagazis at 25 doti each, I supposed I
had enough, yet, though I had been trying to teach the young Hindi that
the Musungu was not a fool, nor blind to his pilfering tricks, though
the 3,500 doti were all spent; though I had only obtained one hundred
and thirty pagazis at 25 doti each, which in the aggregate amounted to
3,200 doti: Soor Hadji Palloo's bill was $1,400 cash extra. His plea was
that he had furnished Ulyah clothes for Muhongo 240 doti, equal in value
to 960 of my doti, that the money was spent in ferry pice, in presents
to chiefs of caravans of tents, guns, red broad cloth, in presents to
people on the Mrima (coast) to induce them to hunt up pagazis. Upon this
exhibition of most ruthless cheating I waxed indignant, and declared to
him that if he did not run over his bill and correct it, he should go
without a pice.

But before the bill could be put into proper shape, my words, threats,
and promises falling heedlessly on a stony brain, a man, Kanjee by name,
from the store of Tarya Topan, of Zanzibar, had to come over, when the
bill was finally reduced to $738. Without any disrespect to Tarya Topan,
I am unable to decide which is the most accomplished rascal, Kanjee,
or young Soor Hadji Palloo; in the words of a white man who knows them
both, "there is not the splitting of a straw between them." Kanjee is
deep and sly, Soor Hadji Palloo is bold and incorrigible. But peace be
to them both, may their shaven heads never be covered with the troublous
crown I wore at Bagamoyo!

My dear friendly reader, do not think, if I speak out my mind in this
or in any other chapter upon matters seemingly trivial and unimportant,
that seeming such they should be left unmentioned. Every tittle related
is a fact, and to knew facts is to receive knowledge.

How could I ever recite my experience to you if I did not enter upon
these miserable details, which sorely distract the stranger upon his
first arrival? Had I been a Government official, I had but wagged my
finger and my quota of pagazis had been furnished me within a week; but
as an individual arriving without the graces of official recognition,
armed with no Government influence, I had to be patient, bide my time,
and chew the cud of irritation quietly, but the bread I ate was not all
sour, as this was.

The white men, Farquhar and Shaw, were kept steadily at work upon
water-proof tents of hemp canvas, for I perceived, by the premonitory
showers of rain that marked the approach of the Masika that an ordinary
tent of light cloth would subject myself to damp and my goods to mildew,
and while there was time to rectify all errors that had crept into my
plans through ignorance or over haste, I thought it was not wise to
permit things to rectify themselves. Now that I have returned uninjured
in health, though I have suffered the attacks of twenty-three fevers
within the short space of thirteen months; I must confess I owe my life,
first, to the mercy of God; secondly, to the enthusiasm for my work,
which animated me from the beginning to the end; thirdly, to having
never ruined my constitution by indulgence in vice and intemperance;
fourthly, to the energy of my nature; fifthly, to a native hopefulness
which never died; and, sixthly, to having furnished myself with a
capacious water and damp proof canvas house. And here, if my experience
may be of value, I would suggest that travellers, instead of submitting
their better judgment to the caprices of a tent-maker, who will
endeavour to pass off a handsomely made fabric of his own, which is
unsuited to all climes, to use his own judgment, and get the best and
strongest that money will buy. In the end it will prove the cheapest,
and perhaps be the means of saving his life.

On one point I failed, and lest new and young travellers fall into the
same error which marred much of my enjoyment, this paragraph is written.
One must be extremely careful in his choice of weapons, whether for
sport or defence. A traveller should have at least three different
kinds of guns. One should be a fowling-piece, the second should be
a double-barrelled rifle, No. 10 or 12, the third should be a
magazine-rifle, for defence. For the fowling-piece I would suggest No.
12 bore, with barrels at least four feet in length. For the rifle for
larger game, I would point out, with due deference to old sportsmen, of
course, that the best guns for African game are the English Lancaster
and Reilly rifles; and for a fighting weapon, I maintain that the
best yet invented is the American Winchester repeating rifle, or the
"sixteen, shooter" as it is called, supplied with the London Eley's
ammunition. If I suggest as a fighting weapon the American Winchester, I
do not mean that the traveller need take it for the purpose of offence,
but as the beat means of efficient defence, to save his own life against
African banditti, when attacked, a thing likely to happen any time.

I met a young man soon after returning from the interior, who declared
his conviction that the "Express," rifle was the most perfect weapon
ever invented to destroy African game. Very possibly the young man may
be right, and that the "Express" rifle is all he declares it to be, but
he had never practised with it against African game, and as I had
never tried it, I could not combat his assertion: but I could relate
my experiences with weapons, having all the penetrating powers of the
"Express," and could inform him that though the bullets penetrated
through the animals, they almost always failed to bring down the game at
the first fire. On the other hand, I could inform him, that during
the time I travelled with Dr. Livingstone the Doctor lent me his heavy
Reilly rifle with which I seldom failed to bring an animal or two home
to the camp, and that I found the Fraser shell answer all purposes for
which it was intended. The feats related by Capt. Speke and Sir Samuel
Baker are no longer matter of wonderment to the young sportsman, when
he has a Lancaster or a Reilly in his hand. After very few trials he can
imitate them, if not excel their Leeds, provided he has a steady hand.
And it is to forward this end that this paragraph is written. African
game require "bone-crushers;" for any ordinary carbine possesses
sufficient penetrative qualities, yet has not he disabling qualities
which a gun must possess to be useful in the hands of an African
explorer.

I had not been long at Bagamoyo before I went over to Mussoudi's
camp, to visit the "Livingstone caravan" which the British Consul
had despatched on the first day of November, 1870, to the relief of
Livingstone. The number of packages was thirty-five, which required as
many men to convey them to Unyanyembe. The men chosen to escort this
caravan were composed of Johannese and Wahiyow, seven in number. Out of
the seven, four were slaves. They lived in clover here--thoughtless of
the errand they had been sent upon, and careless of the consequences.
What these men were doing at Bagamoyo all this time I never could
conceive, except indulging their own vicious propensities. It would
be nonsense to say there were no pagazis; because I know there were
at least fifteen caravans which had started for the interior since the
Ramadan (December 15th, 1870). Yet Livingstone's caravan had arrived at
this little town of Bagamoyo November 2nd, and here it had been lying
until the 10th February, in all, 100 days, for lack of the limited
number of thirty-five pagazis, a number that might be procured within
two days through consular influence.

Bagamoyo has a most enjoyable climate. It is far preferable in every
sense to that of Zanzibar. We were able to sleep in the open air, and
rose refreshed and healthy each morning, to enjoy our matutinal bath in
the sea; and by the time the sun had risen we were engaged in various
preparations for our departure for the interior. Our days were enlivened
by visits from the Arabs who were also bound for Unyanyembe; by comical
scenes in the camp; sometimes by court-martials held on the refractory;
by a boxing-match between Farquhar and Shaw, necessitating my prudent
interference when they waxed too wroth; by a hunting excursion now and
then to the Kingani plain and river; by social conversation with the
old Jemadar and his band of Baluches, who were never tired of warning me
that the Masika was at hand, and of advising me that my best course was
to hurry on before the season for travelling expired.

Among the employees with the Expedition were two Hindi and two Goanese.
They had conceived the idea that the African interior was an El Dorado,
the ground of which was strewn over with ivory tusks, and they had
clubbed together; while their imaginations were thus heated, to embark
in a little enterprise of their own. Their names were Jako, Abdul Kader,
Bunder Salaam, and Aranselar; Jako engaged in my service, as carpenter
and general help; Abdul Kader as a tailor, Bunder Salaam as cook, and
Aranselar as chief butler.

But Aranselar, with an intuitive eye, foresaw that I was likely to prove
a vigorous employer, and while there was yet time he devoted most of
it to conceive how it were possible to withdraw from the engagement. He
received permission upon asking for it to go to Zanzibar to visit his
friends. Two days afterwards I was informed he had blown his right eye
out, and received a medical confirmation of the fact, and note of the
extent of the injury, from Dr. Christie, the physician to His Highness
Seyd Burghash. His compatriots I imagined were about planning the same
thing, but a peremptory command to abstain from such folly, issued after
they had received their advance-pay, sufficed to check any sinister
designs they may have formed.

A groom was caught stealing from the bales, one night, and the chase
after him into the country until he vanished out of sight into the
jungle, was one of the most agreeable diversions which occurred to wear
away the interval employed in preparing for the march.

I had now despatched four caravans into the interior, and the fifth,
which was to carry the boats and boxes, personal luggage, and a few
cloth and bead loads, was ready to be led by myself. The following is
the order of departure of the caravans.

1871. Feb. 6.--Expedition arrived at Bagamoyo.

1871. Feb. 18.--First caravan departs with twenty-four pagazis and three
soldiers.

1871. Feb. 21.--Second caravan departs with twenty-eight pagazis, two
chiefs, and two soldiers.

1871. Feb. 25.--Third caravan departs with twenty-two pagazis, ten
donkeys, one white man, one cook, and three soldiers.

1871. March. 11.--Fourth caravan departs with fifty-five pagazis, two
chiefs, and three soldiers.

1871. March. 21.--Fifth caravan departs with twenty-eight pagazis,
twelve soldiers, two white men, one tailor, one cook, one interpreter,
one gun-bearer, seventeen asses, two horses, and one dog.

Total number, inclusive of all souls, comprised in caravans connected
with the "New York Herald' Expedition," 192.



CHAPTER V. -- THROUGH UKWERE, UKAMI, AND UDOE TO USEGUHHA.


     Leaving Bagamoyo for the interior.--Constructing a Bridge.--
     Our first troubles.--Shooting Hippopotami.--A first view of
     the Game Land.--Anticipating trouble with the Wagogo.--The
     dreadful poison--flies.--Unlucky adventures while hunting.--
     The cunning chief of Kingaru.--Sudden death of my two
     horses.--A terrible experience.--The city of the "Lion
     Lord."


On the 21st of March, exactly seventy-three days after my arrival at
Zanzibar, the fifth caravan, led by myself, left the town of Bagamoyo
for our first journey westward, with "Forward!" for its mot du guet. As
the kirangozi unrolled the American flag, and put himself at the head of
the caravan, and the pagazis, animals, soldiers, and idlers were lined
for the march, we bade a long farewell to the dolce far niente of
civilised life, to the blue ocean, and to its open road to home, to the
hundreds of dusky spectators who were there to celebrate our departure
with repeated salvoes of musketry.

Our caravan is composed of twenty-eight pagazis, including the
kirangozi, or guide; twelve soldiers under Capt. Mbarak Bombay, in
charge of seventeen donkeys and their loads; Selim, my interpreter, in
charge of the donkey and cart and its load; one cook and sub, who is
also to be tailor and ready hand for all, and leads the grey horse;
Shaw, once mate of a ship, now transformed into rearguard and overseer
for the caravan, who is mounted on a good riding-donkey, and wearing a
canoe-like tepee and sea-boots; and lastly, on, the splendid bay horse
presented to me by Mr. Goodhue, myself, called Bana Mkuba, "the big
master," by my people--the vanguard, the reporter, the thinker, and
leader of the Expedition.

Altogether the Expedition numbers on the day of departure three white
men, twenty-three soldiers, four supernumeraries, four chiefs, and one
hundred and fifty-three pagazis, twenty-seven donkeys, and one cart,
conveying cloth, beads, and wire, boat-fixings, tents, cooking utensils
and dishes, medicine, powder, small shot, musket-balls, and metallic
cartridges; instruments and small necessaries, such as soap, sugar, tea,
coffee, Liebig's extract of meat, pemmican, candles, &c., which make
a total of 153 loads. The weapons of defence which the Expedition
possesses consist of one double-barrel breech-loading gun, smooth bore;
one American Winchester rifle, or "sixteen-shooter;" one Henry rifle,
or "sixteen-shooter;" two Starr's breech-loaders, one Jocelyn
breech-loader, one elephant rifle, carrying balls eight to the pound;
two breech-loading revolvers, twenty-four muskets (flint locks), six
single-barrelled pistols, one battle-axe, two swords, two daggers
(Persian kummers, purchased at Shiraz by myself), one boar-spear,
two American axes 4 lbs. each, twenty-four hatchets, and twenty-four
butcher-knives.


The Expedition has been fitted with care; whatever it needed was not
stinted; everything was provided. Nothing was done too hurriedly, yet
everything was purchased, manufactured, collected, and compounded with
the utmost despatch consistent with efficiency and means. Should it fail
of success in its errand of rapid transit to Ujiji and back, it must
simply happen from an accident which could not be controlled. So much
for the _personnel_ of the Expedition and its purpose, until its _point
de mire_ be reached.

We left Bagamoyo the attraction of all the curious, with much eclat, and
defiled up a narrow lane shaded almost to twilight by the dense umbrage
of two parallel hedges of mimosas. We were all in the highest spirits.
The soldiers sang, the kirangozi lifted his voice into a loud bellowing
note, and fluttered the American flag, which told all on-lookers, "Lo, a
Musungu's caravan!" and my heart, I thought, palpitated much too quickly
for the sober face of a leader. But I could not check it; the enthusiasm
of youth still clung to me--despite my travels; my pulses bounded with
the full glow of staple health; behind me were the troubles which had
harassed me for over two months. With that dishonest son of a Hindi,
Soor Hadji Palloo, I had said my last word; of the blatant rabble, of
Arabs, Banyans, and Baluches I had taken my last look; with the Jesuits
of the French Mission I had exchanged farewells, and before me beamed
the sun of promise as he sped towards the Occident. Loveliness glowed
around me. I saw fertile fields, riant vegetation, strange trees--I
heard the cry of cricket and pee-wit, and sibilant sound of many
insects, all of which seemed to tell me, "At last you are started." What
could I do but lift my face toward the pure-glowing sky, and cry, "God
be thanked!"

The first camp, Shamba Gonera, we arrived at in 1 hour 30 minutes, equal
to 3 1/4 miles. This first, or "little journey," was performed very
well, "considering," as the Irishman says. The boy Selim upset the cart
not more than three times. Zaidi, the soldier, only once let his donkey,
which carried one bag of my clothes and a box of ammunition, lie in
a puddle of black water. The clothes have to be re-washed; the
ammunition-box, thanks to my provision, was waterproof. Kamna perhaps
knew the art of donkey-driving, but, overjoyful at the departure, had
sung himself into oblivion of the difficulties with which an animal of
the pure asinine breed has naturally to contend against, such as not
knowing the right road, and inability to resist the temptation of
straying into the depths of a manioc field; and the donkey, ignorant of
the custom in vogue amongst ass-drivers of flourishing sticks before
an animal's nose, and misunderstanding the direction in which he was
required to go, ran off at full speed along an opposite road, until his
pack got unbalanced, and he was fain to come to the earth. But these
incidents were trivial, of no importance, and natural to the first
"little journey" in East Africa.

The soldiers' point of character leaked out just a little. Bombay turned
out to be honest and trusty, but slightly disposed to be dilatory.
Uledi did more talking than work; while the runaway Ferajji and the
useless-handed Mabruki Burton turned out to be true men and staunch,
carrying loads the sight of which would have caused the strong-limbed
hamals of Stamboul to sigh.

The saddles were excellent, surpassing expectation. The strong hemp
canvas bore its one hundred and fifty-pounds' burden with the strength
of bull hide, and the loading and unloading of miscellaneous baggage
was performed with systematic despatch. In brief, there was nothing to
regret--the success of the journey proved our departure to be anything
but premature.

The next three days were employed in putting the finishing touches to
our preparations for the long land journey and our precautions against
the Masika, which was now ominously near, and in settling accounts.

Shamba Gonera means Gonera's Field. Gonera is a wealthy Indian widow,
well disposed towards the Wasungu (whites). She exports much cloth,
beads, and wire into the far interior, and imports in return much ivory.
Her house is after the model of the town houses, with long sloping roof
and projecting eaves, affording a cool shade, under which the pagazis
love to loiter. On its southern and eastern side stretch the cultivated
fields which supply Bagamoyo with the staple grain, matama, of East
Africa; on the left grow Indian corn, and muhogo, a yam-like root
of whitish colour, called by some manioc; when dry, it is ground and
compounded into cakes similar to army slapjacks. On the north, just
behind the house, winds a black quagmire, a sinuous hollow, which in
its deepest parts always contains water--the muddy home of the
brake-and-rush-loving "kiboko" or hippopotamus. Its banks, crowded
with dwarf fan-palm, tall water-reeds, acacias, and tiger-grass, afford
shelter to numerous aquatic birds, pelicans, &c. After following a
course north-easterly, it conflows with the Kingani, which, at distance
of four miles from Gonera's country-house; bends eastward into the sea.
To the west, after a mile of cultivation, fall and recede in succession
the sea-beach of old in lengthy parallel waves, overgrown densely
with forest grass and marsh reeds. On the spines of these land-swells
flourish ebony, calabash, and mango.

"Sofari--sofari leo! Pakia, pakia!"--"A journey--a journey to day! Set
out!--set out!" rang the cheery voice of the kirangozi, echoed by that
of my servant Selim, on the morning of the fourth day, which was fixed
for our departure in earnest. As I hurried my men to their work, and
lent a hand with energy to drop the tents, I mentally resolved that,
if my caravans a should give me clear space, Unyanyembe should be our
resting-place before three months expired. By 6 A.M. our early breakfast
was despatched, and the donkeys and pagazis were defiling from Camp
Gonera. Even at this early hour, and in this country place, there was
quite a collection of curious natives, to whom we gave the parting
"Kwaheri" with sincerity. My bay horse was found to be invaluable for
the service of a quarter-master of a transport-train; for to such was I
compelled to compare myself. I could stay behind until the last donkey
had quitted the camp, and, by a few minutes' gallop, I could put myself
at the head, leaving Shaw to bring up the rear.

The road was a mere footpath, and led over a soil which, though
sandy, was of surprising fertility, producing grain and vegetables
a hundredfold, the sowing and planting of which was done in the most
unskilful manner. In their fields, at heedless labor, were men and women
in the scantiest costumes, compared to which Adam and Eve, in their
fig-tree apparel, must have been _en grande tenue_. We passed them with
serious faces, while they laughed and giggled, and pointed their index
fingers at this and that, which to them seemed so strange and bizarre.

In about half an hour we had left the tall matama and fields of
water-melons, cucumbers, and manioc; and, crossing a reedy slough,
were in an open forest of ebony and calabash. In its depths are deer in
plentiful numbers, and at night it is visited by the hippopotami of the
Kingani for the sake of its grass. In another hour we had emerged from
the woods, and were looking down upon the broad valley of the Kingani,
and a scene presented itself so utterly different from what my foolish
imagination had drawn, that I felt quite relieved by the pleasing
disappointment. Here was a valley stretching four miles east and west,
and about eight miles north and south, left with the richest soil to its
own wild growth of grass--which in civilization would have been a most
valuable meadow for the rearing of cattle--invested as it was by dense
forests, darkening the horizon at all points of the compass, and folded
in by tree-clad ridges.

At the sound of our caravan the red antelope bounded away to our right
and the left, and frogs hushed their croak. The sun shone hot, and
while traversing the valley we experienced a little of its real African
fervour. About half way across we came to a sluice of stagnant water
which, directly in the road of the caravan, had settled down into an
oozy pond. The pagazis crossed a hastily-constructed bridge, thrown up
a long time ago by some Washensi Samaritans. It was an extraordinary
affair; rugged tree limbs resting on very unsteady forked piles, and it
had evidently tested the patience of many a loaded Mnyamwezi, as it
did those porters of our caravan. Our weaker animals were unloaded, the
puddle between Bagamoyo and Genera having taught us prudence. But
this did not occasion much delay; the men worked smartly under Shaw's
supervision.

The turbid Kingani, famous for its hippopotami, was reached in a short
time, and we began to thread the jungle along its right bank until we
were halted point-blank by a narrow sluice having an immeasurable depth
of black mud. The difficulty presented by this was very grave, though
its breadth was barely eight feet; the donkeys, and least of all the
horses, could not be made to traverse two poles like our biped carriers,
neither could they be driven into the sluice, where they would quickly
founder. The only available way of crossing it in safety was by means
of a bridge, to endure in this conservative land for generations as the
handiwork of the Wasungu. So we set to work, there being no help for it,
with American axes--the first of their kind the strokes of which ever
rang in this part of the world--to build a bridge. Be sure it was made
quickly, for where the civilized white is found, a difficulty must
vanish. The bridge was composed of six stout trees thrown across, over
these were laid crosswise fifteen pack saddles, covered again with a
thick layer of grass. All the animals crossed it safely, and then for a
third time that morning the process of wading was performed. The Kingani
flowed northerly here, and our course lay down its right bank. A half
mile in that direction through a jungle of giant reeds and extravagant
climbers brought us to the ferry, where the animals had to be again
unloaded--verily, I wished when I saw its deep muddy waters that I
possessed the power of Moses with his magic rod, or what would have
answered my purpose as well, Aladdin's ring, for then I could have found
myself and party on the opposite side without further trouble; but not
having either of these gifts I issued orders for an immediate crossing,
for it was ill wishing sublime things before this most mundane prospect.

Kingwere, the canoe paddler, espying us from his brake covert, on the
opposite side, civilly responded to our halloos, and brought his huge
hollowed tree skilfully over the whirling eddies of the river to where
we stood waiting for him. While one party loaded the canoe with our
goods, others got ready a long rape to fasten around the animals' necks,
wherewith to haul them through the river to the other bank. After seeing
the work properly commenced, I sat down on a condemned canoe to amuse
myself with the hippopotami by peppering their thick skulls with my No.
12 smooth-bore. The Winchester rifle (calibre 44), a present from the
Hon. Edward Joy Morris--our minister at Constantinople--did no more than
slightly tap them, causing about as much injury as a boy's sling; it was
perfect in its accuracy of fire, for ten times in succession I struck
the tops of their heads between the ears. One old fellow, with the look
of a sage, was tapped close to the right ear by one of these bullets.
Instead of submerging himself as others had done he coolly turned round
his head as if to ask, "Why this waste of valuable cartridges on
us?" The response to the mute inquiry of his sageship was an
ounce-and-a-quarter bullet from the smooth-bore, which made him bellow
with pain, and in a few moments he rose up again, tumbling in his death
agonies. As his groans were so piteous, I refrained from a useless
sacrifice of life, and left the amphibious horde in peace.

A little knowledge concerning these uncouth inmates of the African
waters was gained even during the few minutes we were delayed at the
ferry. When undisturbed by foreign sounds, they congregate in shallow
water on the sand bars, with the fore half of their bodies exposed
to the warm sunshine, and are in appearance, when thus somnolently
reposing, very like a herd of enormous swine. When startled by the noise
of an intruder, they plunge hastily into the depths, lashing the waters
into a yellowish foam, and scatter themselves below the surface, when
presently the heads of a few reappear, snorting the water from their
nostrils, to take a fresh breath and a cautious scrutiny around them;
when thus, we see but their ears, forehead, eyes and nostrils, and as
they hastily submerge again it requires a steady wrist and a quick hand
to shoot them. I have heard several comparisons made of their appearance
while floating in this manner: some Arabs told me before I had seen them
that they looked like dead trees carried down the river; others, who in
some country had seen hogs, thought they resembled them, but to my mind
they look more like horses when swimming their curved necks and
pointed ears, their wide eyes and expanded nostrils, favor greatly this
comparison.

At night they seek the shore, and wander several miles over the country,
luxuriating among its rank grasses. To within four miles of the town
of Bagamoyo (the Kingani is eight miles distant) their wide tracks are
seen. Frequently, if not disturbed by the startling human voice, they
make a raid on the rich corn-stalks of the native cultivators, and a
dozen of them will in a few minutes make a frightful havoc in a large
field of this plant. Consequently, we were not surprised, while delayed
at the ferry, to hear the owners of the corn venting loud halloos, like
the rosy-cheeked farmer boys in England when scaring the crows away from
the young wheat.

The caravan in the meanwhile had crossed safely--bales, baggage,
donkeys, and men. I had thought to have camped on the bank, so as to
amuse myself with shooting antelope, and also for the sake of procuring
their meat, in order to save my goats, of which I had a number
constituting my live stock of provisions; but, thanks to the awe and
dread which my men entertained of the hippopotami, I was hurried on to
the outpost of the Baluch garrison at Bagamoyo, a small village called
Kikoka, distant four miles from the river.

The western side of the river was a considerable improvement upon the
eastern. The plain, slowly heaving upwards, as smoothly as the beach of
a watering-place, for the distance of a mile, until it culminated in
a gentle and rounded ridge, presented none of those difficulties which
troubled us on the other side. There were none of those cataclysms
of mire and sloughs of black mud and over-tall grasses, none of that
miasmatic jungle with its noxious emissions; it was just such a scene
as one may find before an English mansion--a noble expanse of lawn
and sward, with boscage sufficient to agreeably diversify it. After
traversing the open plain, the road led through a grove of young ebony
trees, where guinea-fowls and a hartebeest were seen; it then wound,
with all the characteristic eccentric curves of a goat-path, up and
down a succession of land-waves crested by the dark green foliage of
the mango, and the scantier and lighter-coloured leaves of the enormous
calabash. The depressions were filled with jungle of more or less
density, while here and there opened glades, shadowed even during noon
by thin groves of towering trees. At our approach fled in terror flocks
of green pigeons, jays, ibis, turtledoves, golden pheasants, quails and
moorhens, with crows and hawks, while now and then a solitary pelican
winged its way to the distance.

Nor was this enlivening prospect without its pairs of antelope, and
monkeys which hopped away like Australian kangaroos; these latter were
of good size, with round bullet heads, white breasts, and long tails
tufted at the end.

We arrived at Kikoka by 5 P.M., having loaded and unloaded our pack
animals four times, crossing one deep puddle, a mud sluice, and a river,
and performed a journey of eleven miles.

The settlement of Kikoka is a collection of straw huts; not built after
any architectural style, but after a bastard form, invented by indolent
settlers from the Mrima and Zanzibar for the purpose of excluding as
much sunshine as possible from the eaves and interior. A sluice and some
wells provide them with water, which though sweet is not particularly
wholesome or appetizing, owing to the large quantities of decayed matter
which is washed into it by the rains, and is then left to corrupt in it.
A weak effort has been made to clear the neighbourhood for providing
a place for cultivation, but to the dire task of wood-chopping and
jungle-clearing the settlers prefer occupying an open glade, which they
clear of grass, so as to be able to hoe up two or three inches of soil,
into which they cast their seed, confident of return.

The next day was a halt at Kikoka; the fourth caravan, consisting solely
of Wanyamwezi, proving a sore obstacle to a rapid advance. Maganga, its
chief, devised several methods of extorting more cloth and presents from
me, he having cost already more than any three chiefs together; but his
efforts were of no avail further than obtaining promises of reward if he
would hurry on to Unyanyembe so that I might find my road clear.

On the 2(7?)th, the Wanyamwezi having started, we broke camp soon after
at 7 am. The country was of the same nature as that lying between
the Kingani and Kikokaa park land, attractive and beautiful in every
feature.

I rode in advance to secure meat should a chance present itself, but
not the shadow of vert or venison did I see. Ever in our
front--westerly--rolled the land-waves, now rising, now subsiding,
parallel one with the other, like a ploughed field many times magnified.
Each ridge had its knot of jungle or its thin combing of heavily
foliaged trees, until we arrived close to Rosako, our next halting
place, when the monotonous wavure of the land underwent a change,
breaking into independent hummocks clad with dense jungle. On one of
these, veiled by an impenetrable jungle of thorny acacia, rested Rosako;
girt round by its natural fortification, neighbouring another village
to the north of it similarly protected. Between them sank a valley
extremely fertile and bountiful in its productions, bisected by a small
stream, which serves as a drain to the valley or low hills surrounding
it.

Rosako is the frontier village of Ukwere, while Kikoka is the
north-western extremity of Uzaramo. We entered this village, and
occupied its central portion with our tents and animals. A kitanda,
or square light bedstead, without valance, fringe, or any superfluity
whatever, but nevertheless quite as comfortable as with them, was
brought to my tent for my use by the village chief. The animals were,
immediately after being unloaded, driven out to feed, and the soldiers
to a man set to work to pile the baggage up, lest the rain, which during
the Masika season always appears imminent, might cause irreparable
damage.

Among other experiments which I was about to try in Africa was that of
a good watch-dog on any unmannerly people who would insist upon coming
into my tent at untimely hours and endangering valuables. Especially did
I wish to try the effect of its bark on the mighty Wagogo, who, I was
told by certain Arabs, would lift the door of the tent and enter whether
you wished them or not; who would chuckle at the fear they inspired, and
say to you, "Hi, hi, white man, I never saw the like of you before; are
there many more like you? where do you come from?" Also would they take
hold of your watch and ask you with a cheerful curiosity, "What is this
for, white man?" to which you of course would reply that it was to tell
you the hour and minute. But the Mgogo, proud of his prowess, and more
unmannerly than a brute, would answer you with a snort of insult. I
thought of a watch-dog, and procured a good one at Bombay not only as a
faithful companion, but to threaten the heels of just such gentry.

But soon after our arrival at Rosako it was found that the dog, whose
name was "Omar," given him from his Turkish origin, was missing; he had
strayed away from the soldiers during a rain-squall and had got lost.
I despatched Mabruki Burton back to Kikoka to search for him. On the
following morning, just as we were about to leave Rosako, the faithful
fellow returned with the lost dog, having found him at Kikoka.

Previous to our departure on the morning after this, Maganga, chief
of the fourth caravan, brought me the unhappy report that three of his
pagazis were sick, and he would like to have some "dowa"--medicine.
Though not a doctor, or in any way connected with the profession, I had
a well-supplied medicine chest--without which no traveller in Africa
could live--for just such a contingency as was now present. On visiting
Maganga's sick men, I found one suffering from inflammation of the
lungs, another from the mukunguru (African intermittent). They all
imagined themselves about to die, and called loudly for "Mama!" "Mama!"
though they were all grown men. It was evident that the fourth caravan
could not stir that day, so leaving word with Magauga to hurry after me
as soon as possible, I issued orders for the march of my own.

Excepting in the neighbourhood of the villages which we have passed
there were no traces of cultivation. The country extending between the
several stations is as much a wilderness as the desert of Sahara, though
it possesses a far more pleasing aspect. Indeed, had the first man at
the time of the Creation gazed at his world and perceived it of the
beauty which belongs to this part of Africa, he would have had no cause
of complaint. In the deep thickets, set like islets amid a sea of grassy
verdure, he would have found shelter from the noonday heat, and a safe
retirement for himself and spouse during the awesome darkness. In the
morning he could have walked forth on the sloping sward, enjoyed its
freshness, and performed his ablutions in one of the many small streams
flowing at its foot. His garden of fruit-trees is all that is required;
the noble forests, deep and cool, are round about him, and in their
shade walk as many animals as one can desire. For days and days let a
man walk in any direction, north, south, east, and west, and he will
behold the same scene.

Earnestly as I wished to hurry on to Unyanyembe, still a heart-felt
anxiety about the arrival of my goods carried by the fourth caravan,
served as a drag upon me and before my caravan had marched nine miles
my anxiety had risen to the highest pitch, and caused me to order a camp
there and then. The place selected for it was near a long straggling
sluice, having an abundance of water during the rainy season, draining
as it does two extensive slopes. No sooner had we pitched our camp,
built a boma of thorny acacia, and other tree branches, by stacking them
round our camp, and driven our animals to grass; than we were made aware
of the formidable number and variety of the insect tribe, which for a
time was another source of anxiety, until a diligent examination of the
several species dispelled it.

As it was a most interesting hunt which I instituted for the several
specimens of the insects, I here append the record of it for what it is
worth. My object in obtaining these specimens was to determine whether
the genus _Glossina morsitans_ of the naturalist, or the tsetse
(sometimes called setse) of Livingstone, Vardon, and Gumming, said to
be deadly to horses, was amongst them. Up to this date I had been nearly
two months in East Africa, and had as yet seen no tsetse; and my horses,
instead of becoming emaciated--for such is one of the symptoms of a
tsetse bite--had considerably improved in condition. There were three
different species of flies which sought shelter in my tent, which,
unitedly, kept up a continual chorus of sounds--one performed the basso
profondo, another a tenor, and the third a weak contralto. The first
emanated from a voracious and fierce fly, an inch long, having a ventral
capacity for blood quite astonishing.

This larger fly was the one chosen for the first inspection, which was
of the intensest. I permitted one to alight on my flannel pyjamas, which
I wore while en deshabille in camp. No sooner had he alighted than his
posterior was raised, his head lowered, and his weapons, consisting
of four hair-like styles, unsheathed from the proboscis-like bag which
concealed them, and immediately I felt pain like that caused by a
dexterous lancet-cut or the probe of a fine needle. I permitted him to
gorge himself, though my patience and naturalistic interest were sorely
tried. I saw his abdominal parts distend with the plenitude of the
repast until it had swollen to three times its former shrunken girth,
when he flew away of his own accord laden with blood. On rolling up my
flannel pyjamas to see the fountain whence the fly had drawn the fluid,
I discovered it to be a little above the left knee, by a crimson bead
resting over the incision. After wiping the blood the wound was similar
to that caused by a deep thrust of a fine needle, but all pain had
vanished with the departure of the fly.

Having caught a specimen of this fly, I next proceeded to institute a
comparison between it and the tsetse, as described by Dr. Livingstone on
pp. 56-57, 'Missionary Travels and Researches in South Africa' (Murray's
edition of 1868). The points of disagreement are many, and such as to
make it entirely improbable that this fly is the true tsetse, though my
men unanimously stated that its bite was fatal to horses as well as to
donkeys. A descriptive abstract of the tsetse would read thus: "Not much
larger than a common house-fly, nearly of the same brown colour as the
honey-bee. After-part of the body has yellow bars across it. It has a
peculiar buzz, and its bite is death to the horse, ox, and dog. On man
the bite has no effect, neither has it on wild animals. When allowed
to feed on the hand, it inserts the middle prong of three portions into
which the proboscis divides, it then draws the prong out a little
way, and it assumes a crimson colour as the mandibles come into brisk
operation; a slight itching irritation follows the bite."

The fly which I had under inspection is called mabunga by the natives.
It is much larger than the common housefly, fully a third larger than
the common honey-bee, and its colour more distinctly marked; its head is
black, with a greenish gloss to it; the after-part of the body is marked
by a white line running lengthwise from its junction with the trunk, and
on each side of this white line are two other lines, one of a crimson
colour, the other of a light brown. As for its buzz, there is no
peculiarity in it, it might be mistaken for that of a honey-bee. When
caught it made desperate efforts to get away, but never attempted to
bite. This fly, along with a score of others, attacked my grey horse,
and bit it so sorely in the legs that they appeared as if bathed in
blood. Hence, I might have been a little vengeful if, with more than the
zeal of an entomologist, I caused it to disclose whatever peculiarities
its biting parts possessed.

In order to bring this fly as life-like as possible before my readers, I
may compare its head to most tiny miniature of an elephant's, because it
has a black proboscis and a pair of horny antennae, which in colour and
curve resemble tusks. The black proboscis, however, the simply a hollow
sheath, which encloses, when not in the act of biting, four reddish
and sharp lancets. Under the microscope these four lancets differ in
thickness, two are very thick, the third is slender, but the fourth, of
an opal colour and almost transparent, is exceedingly fine. This last
must be the sucker. When the fly is about to wound, the two horny
antennae are made to embrace the part, the lancets are unsheathed, and
on the instant the incision is performed. This I consider to be the
African "horse-fly."

The second fly, which sang the tenor notes more nearly resembled in size
and description the tsetse. It was exceedingly nimble, and it occupied
three soldiers nearly an hour to capture a specimen; and, when it was
finally caught, it stung most ravenously the hand, and never ceased
its efforts to attack until it was pinned through. It had three or four
white marks across the after-part of its body; but the biting parts of
this fly consisted of two black antennae and an opal coloured style,
which folded away under the neck. When about to bite, this style was
shot out straight, and the antennae embraced it closely. After death the
fly lost its distinctive white marks. Only one of this species did
we see at this camp. The third fly, called "chufwa," pitched a weak
alto-crescendo note, was a third larger than the house fly, and had long
wings. If this insect sang the feeblest note, it certainly did the most
work, and inflicted the most injury. Horses and donkeys streamed with
blood, and reared and kicked through the pain. So determined was it not
to be driven before it obtained its fill, that it was easily despatched;
but this dreadful enemy to cattle constantly increased in numbers. The
three species above named are, according to natives, fatal to
cattle; and this may perhaps be the reason why such a vast expanse of
first-class pasture is without domestic cattle of any kind, a few goats
only being kept by the villagers. This fly I subsequently found to be
the "tsetse."

On the second morning, instead of proceeding, I deemed it more prudent
to await the fourth caravan. Burton experimented sufficiently for me
on the promised word of the Banyans of Kaole and Zanzibar, and waited
eleven months before he received the promised articles. As I did not
expect to be much over that time on my errand altogether, it would be
ruin, absolute and irremediable, should I be detained at Unyanyembe so
long a time by my caravan. Pending its arrival, I sought the pleasures
of the chase. I was but a tyro in hunting, I confess, though I had shot
a little on the plains of America and Persia; yet I considered myself
a fair shot, and on game ground, and within a reasonable proximity to
game, I doubted not but I could bring some to camp.

After a march of a mile through the tall grass of the open, we gained
the glades between the jungles. Unsuccessful here, after ever so much
prying into fine hiding-places and lurking corners, I struck a trail
well traversed by small antelope and hartebeest, which we followed. It
led me into a jungle, and down a watercourse bisecting it; but, after
following it for an hour, I lost it, and, in endeavouring to retrace it,
lost my way. However, my pocket-compass stood me in good stead; and by
it I steered for the open plain, in the centre of which stood the camp.
But it was terribly hard work--this of plunging through an African
jungle, ruinous to clothes, and trying to the cuticle. In order to
travel quickly, I had donned a pair of flannel pyjamas, and my feet were
encased in canvas shoes. As might be expected, before I had gone a
few paces a branch of the acacia horrida--only one of a hundred such
annoyances--caught the right leg of my pyjamas at the knee, and ripped
it almost clean off; succeeding which a stumpy kolquall caught me by the
shoulder, and another rip was the inevitable consequence. A few yards
farther on, a prickly aloetic plant disfigured by a wide tear the
other leg of my pyjamas, and almost immediately I tripped against a
convolvulus strong as ratline, and was made to measure my length on a
bed of thorns. It was on all fours, like a hound on a scent, that I was
compelled to travel; my solar topee getting the worse for wear every
minute; my skin getting more and more wounded; my clothes at each step
becoming more and more tattered. Besides these discomforts, there was
a pungent, acrid plant which, apart from its strong odorous emissions,
struck me smartly on the face, leaving a burning effect similar to
cayenne; and the atmosphere, pent in by the density of the jungle, was
hot and stifling, and the perspiration transuded through every pore,
making my flannel tatters feel as if I had been through a shower. When I
had finally regained the plain, and could breathe free, I mentally vowed
that the penetralia of an African jungle should not be visited by me
again, save under most urgent necessity.

The second and third day passed without any news of Maganga.
Accordingly, Shaw and Bombay were sent to hurry him up by all means.
On the fourth morning Shaw and Bombay returned, followed by the
procrastinating Maganga and his laggard people. Questions only elicited
an excuse that his men had been too sick, and he had feared to tax their
strength before they were quite equal to stand the fatigue. Moreover he
suggested that as they would be compelled to stay one day more at the
camp, I might push on to Kingaru and camp there, until his arrival.
Acting upon which suggestion I broke camp and started for Kingaru,
distant five miles.

On this march the land was more broken, and the caravan first
encountered jungle, which gave considerable trouble to our cart.
Pisolitic limestone cropped out in boulders and sheets, and we began
to imagine ourselves approaching healthy highlands, and as if to give
confirmation to the thought, to the north and north-west loomed the
purple cones of Udoe, and topmost of all Dilima Peak, about 1,500 feet
in height above the sea level. But soon after sinking into a bowl-like
valley, green with tall corn, the road slightly deviated from north-west
to west, the country still rolling before us in wavy undulations.

In one of the depressions between these lengthy land-swells stood the
village of Kingaru, with surroundings significant in their aspect
of ague and fever. Perhaps the clouds surcharged with rain, and the
overhanging ridges and their dense forests dulled by the gloom, made the
place more than usually disagreeable, but my first impressions of the
sodden hollow, pent in by those dull woods, with the deep gully close by
containing pools of stagnant water, were by no means agreeable.

Before we could arrange our camp and set the tents up, down poured the
furious harbinger of the Masika season in torrents sufficient to damp
the ardor and newborn love for East Africa I had lately manifested.
However, despite rain, we worked on until our camp was finished and the
property was safely stored from weather and thieves, and we could regard
with resignation the raindrops beating the soil into mud of a very
tenacious kind, and forming lakelets and rivers of our camp-ground.

Towards night, the scene having reached its acme of unpleasantness, the
rain ceased, and the natives poured into camp from the villages in the
woods with their vendibles. Foremost among these, as if in duty bound,
came the village sultan--lord, chief, or head--bearing three measures
of matama and half a measure of rice, of which he begged, with paternal
smiles, my acceptance. But under his smiling mask, bleared eyes, and
wrinkled front was visible the soul of trickery, which was of the
cunningest kind. Responding under the same mask adopted by this knavish
elder, I said, "The chief of Kingaru has called me a rich sultan. If I
am a rich sultan why comes not the chief with a rich present to me, that
he might get a rich return?" Said he, with another leer of his wrinkled
visage, "Kingaru is poor, there is no matama in the village." To which
I replied that since there was no matama in the village I would pay him
half a shukka, or a yard of cloth, which would be exactly equivalent to
his present; that if he preferred to call his small basketful a present,
I should be content to call my yard of cloth a present. With which logic
he was fain to be satisfied.

April 1st.--To-day the Expedition suffered a loss in the death of the
grey Arab horse presented by Seyd Burghash, Sultan of Zanzibar. The
night previous I had noticed that the horse was suffering. Bearing in
mind what has been so frequently asserted, namely, that no horses could
live in the interior of Africa because of the tsetse, I had him opened,
and the stomach, which I believed to be diseased, examined. Besides much
undigested matama and grass there were found twenty-five short, thick,
white worms, sticking like leeches into the coating of the stomach,
while the intestines were almost alive with the numbers of long white
worms. I was satisfied that neither man nor beast could long exist with
such a mass of corrupting life within him.

In order that the dead carcase might not taint the valley, I had it
buried deep in the ground, about a score of yards from the encampment.
From such a slight cause ensued a tremendous uproar from Kingaru--chief
of the village--who, with his brother-chiefs of neighbouring villages,
numbering in the aggregate two dozen wattled huts, had taken counsel
upon the best means of mulcting the Musungu of a full doti or two of
Merikani, and finally had arrived at the conviction that the act of
burying a dead horse in their soil without "By your leave, sir," was
a grievous and fineable fault. Affecting great indignation at the
unpardonable omission, he, Kingaru, concluded to send to the Musungu
four of his young men to say to him that "since you have buried your
horse in my ground, it is well; let him remain there; but you must pay
me two doti of Merikani." For reply the messengers were told to say to
the chief that I would prefer talking the matter over with himself face
to face, if he would condescend to visit me in my tent once again. As
the village was but a stone's throw from our encampment, before many
minutes had elapsed the wrinkled elder made his appearance at the door
of my tent with about half the village behind him.

The following dialogue which took place will serve to illustrate the
tempers of the people with whom I was about to have a year's trading
intercourse:

White Man.--"Are you the great chief of Kingaru?"

Kingaru.--"Huh-uh. Yes."

W. M.--"The great, great chief?"

Kingaru.--"Huh-uh. Yes."

W. M.--"How many soldiers have you?"

Kingaru.--" Why?"

W. M.--"How many fighting men have you?"

Kingaru.--"None."

W. M.--"Oh! I thought you might have a thousand men with you, by your
going to fine a strong white man, who has plenty of guns and soldiers,
two doti for burying a dead horse."

Kingaru (rather perplexed).--"No; I have no soldiers. I have only a few
young men."

W. M.--"Why do you come and make trouble, then?"

Kingaru.--"It was not I; it was my brothers who said to me, 'Come here,
come here, Kingaru, see what the white man has done! Has he not taken
possession of your soil, in that he has put his horse into your ground
without your permission? Come, go to him and see by what right.'
Therefore have I come to ask you, who gave you permission to use my soil
for a burying-ground?"

W. M. "I want no man's permission to do what is right. My horse died;
had I left him to fester and stink in your valley, sickness would visit
your village, your water would become unwholesome, and caravans would
not stop here for trade; for they would say, 'This is an unlucky spot,
let us go away.' But enough said: I understand you to say that you do
not want him buried in your ground; the error I have fallen into is
easily put right. This minute my soldiers shall dig him out again, and
cover up the soil as it was before; and the horse shall be left where he
died." (Then shouting to Bombay.) "Ho! Bombay, take soldiers with jembes
to dig my horse out of the ground, drag him to where he died, and make
everything ready for a march to-morrow morning."

Kingaru, his voice considerably higher, and his head moving to and fro
with emotion, cries out, "Akuna, akuna, bana!"--"No, no, master! Let not
the white man get angry. The horse is dead, and now lies buried; let him
remain so, since he is already there, and let us be friends again."

The Sheikh of Kingaru being thus brought to his senses, we bid each
other the friendly "Kwaheri," and I was left alone to ruminate over my
loss. Barely half an hour had elapsed, it was 9 P.M., the camp was in
a semi-doze, when I heard deep groans issuing from one of the animals.
Upon inquiry as to what animal was suffering, I was surprised to hear
that it was my bay horse. With a bull's-eye lantern, I visited him, and
perceived that the pain was located in the stomach, but whether it was
from some poisonous plant he had eaten while out grazing, or from some
equine disease, I did not know. He discharged copious quantities of
loose matter, but there was nothing peculiar in its colour. The pain was
evidently very great, for his struggles were very violent. I was up all
night, hoping that it was but a temporary effect of some strange and
noxious plant; but at 6 o'clock the next morning, after a short period
of great agony, he also died; exactly fifteen hours after his companion.
When the stomach was opened, it was found that death was caused by the
internal rupture of a large cancer, which had affected the larger half
of the coating of his stomach, and had extended an inch or two up the
larynx. The contents of the stomach and intestines were deluged with the
yellow viscous efflux from the cancer.

I was thus deprived of both my horses, and that within the short space
of fifteen hours. With my limited knowledge of veterinary science,
however, strengthened by the actual and positive proofs obtained by the
dissection of the two stomachs, I can scarcely state that horses can
live to reach Unyanyembe, or that they can travel with ease through this
part of East Africa. But should I have occasion at some future day,
I should not hesitate to take four horses with me, though I should
certainly endeavour to ascertain previous to purchase whether they, were
perfectly sound and healthy, and to those travellers who cherish a good
horse I would say, "Try one," and be not discouraged by my unfortunate
experiences.

The 1st, 2nd, and 3rd of April passed, and nothing had we heard or
seen of the ever-lagging fourth caravan. In the meanwhile the list of
casualties was being augmented. Besides the loss of this precious time,
through the perverseness of the chief of the other caravan, and the
loss of my two horses, a pagazi carrying boat-fixtures improved the
opportunity, and deserted. Selim was struck down with a severe attack
of ague and fever, and was soon after followed by the cook, then by the
assistant cook and tailor, Abdul Kader. Finally, before the third day
was over, Bombay had rheumatism, Uledi (Grant's old valet) had a swollen
throat, Zaidi had the flux, Kingaru had the mukunguru; Khamisi, a
pagazi, suffered from a weakness of the loins; Farjalla had a bilious
fever; and before night closed Makoviga was very ill. Out of a force of
twenty-five men one had deserted, and ten were on the sick list, and the
presentiment that the ill-looking neighbourhood of Kingaru would prove
calamitous to me was verified.

On the 4th April Maganga and his people appeared, after being heralded
by musketry-shots and horn-blowing, the usual signs of an approaching
caravan in this land. His sick men were considerably improved, but they
required one more day of rest at Kingaru. In the afternoon he came to
lay siege to my generosity, by giving details of Soor Hadji Palloo's
heartless cheats upon him; but I informed him, that since I had left
Bagamoyo, I could no longer be generous; we were now in a land where
cloth was at a high premium; that I had no more cloth than I should need
to furnish food for myself and men; that he and his caravan had cost me
more money and trouble than any three caravans I had, as indeed was the
case. With this counter-statement he was obliged to be content. But I
again solved his pecuniary doubts by promising that, if he hurried his
caravan on to Unyanyembe, he should have no cause of complaint.

The 5th of April saw the fourth caravan vanish for once in our front,
with a fair promise that, however fast we should follow, we should not
see them the hither side of Sinbamwenni.

The following morning, in order to rouse my people from the sickened
torpitude they had lapsed into, I beat an exhilarating alarum on a
tin pan with an iron ladle, intimating that a sofari was about to be
undertaken. This had a very good effect, judging from the extraordinary
alacrity with which it was responded to. Before the sun rose we started.
The Kingaru villagers were out with the velocity of hawks for any rags
or refuse left behind us.

The long march to Imbiki, fifteen miles, proved that our protracted stay
at Kingaru had completely demoralized my soldiers and pagazis. Only
a few of them had strength enough to reach Imbiki before night. The
others, attending the laden donkeys, put in an appearance next morning,
in a lamentable state of mind and body. Khamisi--the pagazi with the
weak loins--had deserted, taking with him two goats, the property tent,
and the whole of Uledi's personal wealth, consisting of his visiting
dish-dasheh--a long shirt of the Arabic pattern, 10 lbs. of beads, and
a few fine cloths, which Uledi, in a generous fit, had intrusted to
him, while he carried the pagazi's load, 70 lbs. of Bubu beads. This
defalcation was not to be overlooked, nor should Khamisi be permitted to
return without an effort to apprehend him. Accordingly Uledi and Ferajji
were despatched in pursuit while we rested at Imbiki, in order to give
the dilapidated soldiers and animals time to recruit.

On the 8th we continued our journey, and arrived at Msuwa. This march
will be remembered by our caravan as the most fatiguing of all, though
the distance was but ten miles. It was one continuous jungle, except
three interjacent glades of narrow limits, which gave us three breathing
pauses in the dire task of jungle travelling. The odour emitted from
its fell plants was so rank, so pungently acrid, and the miasma from its
decayed vegetation so dense, that I expected every moment to see myself
and men drop down in paroxysms of acute fever. Happily this evil was
not added to that of loading and unloading the frequently falling packs.
Seven soldiers to attend seventeen laden donkeys were entirely too small
a number while passing through a jungle; for while the path is but a
foot wide, with a wall of thorny plants and creepers bristling on each
side, and projecting branches darting across it, with knots of spikey
twigs stiff as spike-nails, ready to catch and hold anything above four
feet in height, it is but reasonable to suppose that donkeys standing
four feet high, with loads measuring across from bale to bale four feet,
would come to grief. This grief was of frequent recurrence here, causing
us to pause every few minutes for re-arrangements. So often had this
task to be performed, that the men got perfectly discouraged, and had to
bespoken to sharply before they set to work. By the time I reached Msuwa
there was nobody with me and the ten donkeys I drove but Mabruk the
Little, who, though generally stolid, stood to his work like a man.
Bombay and Uledi were far behind, with the most jaded donkeys. Shaw
was in charge of the cart, and his experiences were most bitter, as he
informed me he had expended a whole vocabulary of stormy abuse known
to sailors, and a new one which he had invented ex tempore. He did not
arrive until two o'clock next morning, and was completely worn out.

Another halt was fixed at Msuwa, that we and our animals might
recuperate. The chief of the village, a white man in everything but
colour, sent me and mine the fattest broad-tailed sheep of his
flock, with five measures of matama grain. The mutton was excellent,
unapproachable. For his timely and needful present I gave him two doti,
and amused him with an exhibition of the wonderful mechanism of the
Winchester rifle, and my breechloading revolvers.

He and his people were intelligent enough to comprehend the utility of
these weapons at an emergency, and illustrated in expressive pantomime
the powers they possessed against numbers of people armed only with
spears and bows, by extending their arms with an imaginary gun and
describing a clear circle. "Verily," said they, "the Wasungu are far
wiser than the Washensi. What heads they have! What wonderful things
they make! Look at their tents, their guns, their time-pieces, their
clothes, and that little rolling thing (the cart) which carries more
than five men,---que!"

On the 10th, recovered from the excessive strain of the last march, the
caravan marched out of Msuwa, accompanied by the hospitable villagers
as far as their stake defence, receiving their unanimous "Kwaheris."
Outside the village the march promised to be less arduous than between
Imbiki and Msuwa. After crossing a beautiful little plain intersected
by a dry gully or mtoni, the route led by a few cultivated fields, where
the tillers greeted us with one grand unwinking stare, as if fascinated.

Soon after we met one of those sights common in part of the world, to
wit a chain slave-gang, bound east. The slaves did not appear to be
in any way down-hearted on the contrary, they seemed imbued with the
philosophic jollity of the jolly servant of Martin Chuzzlewit. Were it
not for their chains, it would have been difficult to discover master
from slave; the physiognomic traits were alike--the mild benignity with
which we were regarded was equally visible on all faces. The chains were
ponderous--they might have held elephants captive; but as the slaves
carried nothing but themselves, their weight could not have been
insupportable.

The jungle was scant on this march, and though in some places the packs
met with accidents, they were not such as seriously to retard progress.
By 10 A.M. we were in camp in the midst of an imposing view of green
sward and forest domed by a cloudless sky. We had again pitched our camp
in the wilderness, and, as is the custom of caravans, fired two shots to
warn any Washensi having grain to sell, that we were willing to trade.

Our next halting-place was Kisemo, distant but eleven miles from Msuwa,
a village situated in a populous district, having in its vicinity no
less than five other villages, each fortified by stakes and thorny
abattis, with as much fierce independence as if their petty lords were
so many Percys and Douglasses. Each topped a ridge, or a low hummock,
with an assumption of defiance of the cock-on-its-own-dunghill type.
Between these humble eminences and low ridges of land wind narrow vales
which are favored with the cultivation of matama and Indian corn. Behind
the village flows the Ungerengeri River, an impetuous stream during the
Masika season, capable of overflowing its steep banks, but in the dry
season it subsides into its proper status, which is that of a small
stream of very clear sweet water. Its course from Kisemo is south-west,
then easterly; it is the main feeder of the Kingani River.

The belles of Kisemo are noted for their vanity in brass wire, which is
wound in spiral rings round their wrists and ankles, and the varieties
of style which their hispid heads exhibit; while their poor lords,
obliged to be contented with dingy torn clouts and split ears, show what
wide sway Asmodeus holds over this terrestrial sphere--for it must have
been an unhappy time when the hard-besieged husbands finally gave
way before their spouses. Besides these brassy ornaments on their
extremities, and the various hair-dressing styles, the women of Kisemo
frequently wear lengthy necklaces, which run in rivers of colours down
their bodies.

A more comical picture is seldom presented than that of one of these
highly-dressed females engaged in the homely and necessary task of
grinding corn for herself and family. The grinding apparatus consists
of two portions: one, a thick pole of hard wood about six feet long,
answering for a pestle; the other, a capacious wooden mortar, three feet
in height.

While engaged in setting his tent, Shaw was obliged to move a small flat
stone, to drive a peg into the ground. The village chief, who saw him do
it, rushed up in a breathless fashion, and replaced the stone instantly,
then stood on it in an impressive manner, indicative of the great
importance attached to that stone and location. Bombay, seeing Shaw
standing in silent wonder at the act, volunteered to ask the chief what
was the matter. The Sheikh solemnly answered, with a finger pointing
downward, "Uganga!" Whereupon I implored him to let me see what was
under the stone. With a graciousness quite affecting he complied. My
curiosity was gratified with the sight of a small whittled stick, which
pinned fast to the ground an insect, the cause of a miscarriage to a
young female of the village.

During the afternoon, Uledi and Ferajji, who had been despatched after
the truant Khamisi, returned with him and all the missing articles.
Khamisi, soon after leaving the road and plunging into the jungle,
where he was mentally triumphing in his booty, was met by some of the
plundering Washensi, who are always on the qui vive for stragglers, and
unceremoniously taken to their village in the woods, and bound to a tree
preparatory, to being killed. Khamisi said that he asked them why they
tied him up, to which they answered, that they were about to kill him,
because he was a Mgwana, whom they were accustomed to kill as soon as
they were caught. But Uledi and Ferajji shortly after coming upon the
scene, both well armed, put an end to the debates upon Khamisi's fate,
by claiming him as an absconding pagazi from the Musungu's camp, as well
as all the articles he possessed at the time of capture. The robbers did
not dispute the claim for the pagazi, goats, tent, or any other
valuable found with him, but intimated that they deserved a reward for
apprehending him. The demand being considered just, a reward to the
extent of two doti and a fundo, or ten necklaces of beads, was given.

Khamisi, for his desertion and attempted robbery, could not be pardoned
without first suffering punishment. He had asked at Bagamoyo, before
enlisting in my service, an advance of $5 in money, and had received it,
and a load of Bubu beads, no heavier than a pagazis load, had been given
him to carry; he had, therefore, no excuse for desertion. Lest I should
overstep prudence, however, in punishing him, I convened a court of
eight pagazis and four soldiers to sit in judgment, and asked them
to give me their decision as to what should be done. Their unanimous
verdict was that he was guilty of a crime almost unknown among the
Wanyamwezi pagazis, and as it was likely to give bad repute to the
Wanyamwezi carriers, they therefore sentenced him to be flogged with the
"Great Master's" donkey whip, which was accordingly carried out, to poor
Khamisi's crying sorrow.

On the 12th the caravan reached Mussoudi, on the Ungerengeri river.
Happily for our patient donkeys this march was free from all the
annoying troubles of the jungle. Happily for ourselves also, for we had
no more the care of the packs and the anxiety about arriving at camp
before night. The packs once put firmly on the backs of our good
donkeys, they marched into camp--the road being excellent--without a
single displacement or cause for one impatient word, soon after leaving
Kisemo. A beautiful prospect, glorious in its wild nature, fragrant with
its numerous flowers and variety of sweetly-smelling shrubs, among which
I recognised the wild sage, the indigo plant, &c., terminated only
at the foot of Kira Peak and sister cones, which mark the boundaries
between Udoe and Ukami, yet distant twenty miles. Those distant
mountains formed a not unfit background to this magnificent picture
of open plain, forest patches, and sloping lawns--there was enough of
picturesqueness and sublimity in the blue mountains to render it one
complete whole. Suppose a Byron saw some of these scenes, he would be
inclined to poetize in this manner:

Morn dawns, and with it stern Udoe's hills, Dark Urrugum's rocks, and
Kira's peak, Robed half in mist, bedewed with various rills, Arrayed in
many a dun and purple streak.

When drawing near the valley of Ungerengeri, granite knobs and
protuberances of dazzling quartz showed their heads above the reddish
soil. Descending the ridge where these rocks were prominent, we found
ourselves in the sable loam deposit of the Ungerengeri, and in the midst
of teeming fields of sugar-cane and matama, Indian corn, muhogo,
and gardens of curry, egg, and cucumber plants. On the banks of the
Ungerengeri flourished the banana, and overtopping it by seventy feet
and more, shot up the stately mparamusi, the rival in beauty of the
Persian chenar and Abyssinian plane. Its trunk is straight and comely
enough for the mainmast of a first, class frigate, while its expanding
crown of leafage is distinguished from all others by its density and
vivid greenness. There were a score of varieties of the larger kind of
trees, whose far-extending branches embraced across the narrow but swift
river. The depressions of the valley and the immediate neighbourhood of
the river were choked with young forests of tiger-grass and stiff reeds.

Mussoudi is situated on a higher elevation than the average level of the
village, and consequently looks down upon its neighbours, which number a
hundred and more. It is the western extremity of Ukwere. On the western
bank of the Ungerengeri the territory of the Wakami commences. We had to
halt one day at Mussoudi because the poverty of the people prevented us
from procuring the needful amount of grain. The cause of this scantiness
in such a fertile and populous valley was, that the numerous caravans
which had preceded us had drawn heavily for their stores for the
upmarches.

On the 14th we crossed the Ungerengeri, which here flows southerly to
the southern extremity of the valley, where it bends easterly as far as
Kisemo. After crossing the river here, fordable at all times and only
twenty yards in breadth, we had another mile of the valley with its
excessively moist soil and rank growth of grass. It then ascended into
a higher elevation, and led through a forest of mparamusi, tamarind,
tamarisk, acacia, and the blooming mimosa. This ascent was continued for
two hours, when we stood upon the spine of the largest ridge, where we
could obtain free views of the wooded plain below and the distant ridges
of Kisemo, which we had but lately left. A descent of a few hundred feet
terminated in a deep but dry mtoni with a sandy bed, on the other side
of which we had to regain the elevation we had lost, and a similar
country opened into view until we found a newly-made boma with
well-built huts of grass rear a pool of water, which we at once occupied
as a halting-place for the night. The cart gave us considerable trouble;
not even our strongest donkey, though it carried with ease on its back
196 lbs., could draw the cart with a load of only 225 lbs. weight.

Early on the morning of the 15th we broke camp and started for Mikeseh.
By 8.30 A.M. we were ascending the southern face of the Kira Peak. When
we had gained the height of two hundred feet above the level of the
surrounding country, we were gratified with a magnificent view of a land
whose soil knows no Sabbath.

After travelling the spine of a ridge abutting against the southern
slope of Kira we again descended into the little valley of Kiwrima,
the first settlement we meet in Udoe, where there is always an abundant
supply of water. Two miles west of Kiwrima is Mikiseh.

On the 16th we reached Ulagalla after a few hours' march. Ulagalla is
the name of a district, or a portion of a district, lying between the
mountains of Uruguru, which bound it southerly, and the mountains of
Udoe, lying northerly and parallel with them, and but ten miles apart.
The principal part of the basin thus formed is called Ulagalla.

Muhalleh is the next settlement, and here we found ourselves in
the territory of the Waseguhha. On this march we were hemmed in by
mountains--on our left by those of Uruguru, on our right by those of
Udoe and Useguhha--a most agreeable and welcome change to us after
the long miles of monotonous level we had hitherto seen. When tired of
looking into the depths of the forest that still ran on either side
of the road, we had but to look up to the mountain's base, to note its
strange trees, its plants and vari-coloured flowers, we had but to raise
our heads to vary this pleasant occupation by observing the lengthy and
sinuous spine of the mountains, and mentally report upon their outline,
their spurs, their projections and ravines, their bulging rocks and deep
clefts, and, above all, the dark green woods clothing them from summit
to base. And when our attention was not required for the mundane task
of regarding the donkeys' packs, or the pace of the cautious-stepping
pagazis, it was gratifying to watch the vapours play about the mountain
summits--to see them fold into fleecy crowns and fantastic clusters,
dissolve, gather together into a pall that threatened rain, and sail
away again before the brightening sun.

At Muhalleh was the fourth caravan under Maganga with three more sick
men, who turned with eager eyes to myself, "the dispenser of medicine,"
as I approached. Salvos of small arms greeted me, and a present of rice
and ears of Indian corn for roasting were awaiting my acceptance; but,
as I told Maganga, I would have preferred to hear that his party were
eight or ten marches ahead. At this camp, also, we met Salim bin Rashid,
bound eastward, with a huge caravan carrying three hundred ivory tusks.
This good Arab, besides welcoming the new comer with a present of rice,
gave me news of Livingstone. He had met the old traveller at Ujiji, had
lived in the next but to him for two weeks, described him as looking
old, with long grey moustaches and beard, just recovered from severe
illness, looking very wan; when fully recovered Livingstone intended to
visit a country called Manyema by way of Marungu.

The valley of the Ungerengeri with Muhalleh exhibits wonderful
fertility. Its crops of matama were of the tallest, and its Indian
corn would rival the best crops ever seen in the Arkansas bottoms. The
numerous mountain-fed streams rendered the great depth of loam very
sloppy, in consequence of which several accidents occurred before we
reached the camp, such as wetting cloth, mildewing tea, watering sugar,
and rusting tools; but prompt attention to these necessary things saved
us from considerable loss.

There was a slight difference noticed in the demeanour and bearing of
the Waseguhha compared with the Wadoe, Wakami, and Wakwere heretofore
seen. There was none of that civility we had been until now pleased to
note: their express desire to barter was accompanied with insolent
hints that we ought to take their produce at their own prices. If
we remonstrated they became angry; retorting fiercely, impatient of
opposition, they flew into a passion, and were glib in threats. This
strange conduct, so opposite to that of the calm and gentle Wakwere,
may be excellently illustrated by comparing the manner of the hot-headed
Greek with that of the cool and collected German. Necessity compelled us
to purchase eatables of them, and, to the credit of the country and its
productions, be it said, their honey had the peculiar flavour of that of
famed Hymettus.

Following the latitudinal valley of the Ungerengeri, within two hours on
the following morning we passed close under the wall of the capital of
Useguhha--Simbamwenni. The first view of the walled town at the
western foot of the Uruguru mountains, with its fine valley abundantly
beautiful, watered by two rivers, and several pellucid streams of water
distilled by the dew and cloud-enriched heights around, was one that
we did not anticipate to meet in Eastern Africa. In Mazanderan, Persia,
such a scene would have answered our expectations, but here it was
totally unexpected. The town may contain a population of 3,000, having
about 1,000 houses; being so densely crowded, perhaps 5,000 would more
closely approximate. The houses in the town are eminently African, but
of the best type of construction. The fortifications are on an Arabic
Persic model--combining Arab neatness with Persian plan. Through a ride
of 950 miles in Persia I never met a town outside of the great cities
better fortified than Simbamwenni. In Persia the fortifications were
of mud, even those of Kasvin, Teheran, Ispahan, and Shiraz; those
of Simbamwenni are of stone, pierced with two rows of loopholes for
musketry. The area of the town is about half a square mile, its plan
being quadrangular. Well-built towers of stone guard each corner; four
gates, one facing each cardinal point, and set half way between the
several towers, permit ingress and egress for its inhabitants. The gates
are closed with solid square doors made of African teak, and carved
with the infinitesimally fine and complicated devices of the Arabs, from
which I suspect that the doors were made either at Zanzibar or on the
coast, and conveyed to Simbamwenni plank by plank; yet as there is much
communication between Bagamoyo and Simbamwenni, it is just possible that
native artisans are the authors of this ornate workmanship, as several
doors chiselled and carved in the same manner, though not quite so
elaborately, were visible in the largest houses. The palace of the
Sultan is after the style of those on the coast, with long sloping roof,
wide eaves, and veranda in front.

The Sultana is the eldest daughter of the famous Kisabengo, a name
infamous throughout the neighbouring countries of Udoe, Ukami, Ukwere,
Kingaru, Ukwenni, and Kiranga-Wanna, for his kidnapping propensities.
Kisabengo was another Theodore on a small scale. Sprung from humble
ancestry, he acquired distinction for his personal strength, his powers
of harangue, and his amusing and versatile address, by which he gained
great ascendency over fugitive slaves, and was chosen a leader among
them. Fleeing from justice, which awaited him at the hands of the
Zanzibar Sultan, he arrived in Ukami, which extended at that time from
Ukwere to Usagara, and here he commenced a career of conquest, the
result of which was the cession by the Wakami of an immense tract of
fertile country, in the valley of the Ungerengeri. On its most desirable
site, with the river flowing close under the walls, he built his
capital, and called it Simbamwenni, which means "The Lion," or the
strongest, City. In old age the successful robber and kidnapper
changed his name of Kisabengo, which had gained such a notoriety, to
Simbamwenni, after his town; and when dying, after desiring that his
eldest daughter should succeed him, he bestowed the name of the town
upon her also, which name of Simbamwenni the Sultana now retains and is
known by.

While crossing a rapid stream, which, as I said before flowed close
to the walls, the inhabitants of Simbamwenni had a fine chance of
gratifying their curiosity of seeing the "Great Musungu," whose several
caravans had preceded him, and who unpardonably, because unlicensed, had
spread a report of his great wealth and power. I was thus the object of
a universal stare. At one time on the banks there were considerably over
a thousand natives going through the several tenses and moods of the
verb "to stare," or exhibiting every phase of the substantive, viz.--the
stare peremptory, insolent, sly, cunning, modest, and casual. The
warriors of the Sultana, holding in one hand the spear, the bow, and
sheaf or musket, embraced with the other their respective friends, like
so many models of Nisus and Euryalus, Theseus and Pirithous, Damon and
Pythias, or Achilles and Patroclus, to whom they confidentially related
their divers opinions upon my dress and colour. The words "Musungu kuba"
had as much charm for these people as the music of the Pied Piper had
for the rats of Hamelin, since they served to draw from within the walls
across their stream so large a portion of the population; and when I
continued the journey to the Ungerengeri, distant four miles, I feared
that the Hamelin catastrophe might have to be repeated before I could
rid myself of them. But fortunately for my peace of mind, they finally
proved vincible under the hot sun, and the distance we had to go to
camp.

As we were obliged to overhaul the luggage, and repair saddles, as well
as to doctor a few of the animals, whose backs had by this time become
very sore, I determined to halt here two days. Provisions were very
plentiful also at Simbamwenni, though comparatively dear.

On the second day I was, for the first time, made aware that my
acclimatization in the ague-breeding swamps of Arkansas was powerless
against the mukunguru of East Africa. The premonitory symptoms of the
African type were felt in my system at 10 A.M. First, general lassitude
prevailed, with a disposition to drowsiness; secondly, came the spinal
ache which, commencing from the loins, ascended the vertebrae, and
extended around the ribs, until it reached the shoulders, where it
settled into a weary pain; thirdly came a chilliness over the whole
body, which was quickly followed by a heavy head, swimming eyes, and
throbbing temples, with vague vision, which distorted and transformed
all objects of sight. This lasted until 10 P.M., and the mukunguru left
me, much prostrated in strength.

The remedy, applied for three mornings in succession after the attack,
was such as my experience in Arkansas had taught me was the most
powerful corrective, viz., a quantum of fifteen grains of quinine,
taken in three doses of five grains each, every other hour from dawn to
meridian--the first dose to be taken immediately after the first effect
of the purging medicine taken at bedtime the night previous. I may add
that this treatment was perfectly successful in my case, and in all
others which occurred in my camp. After the mukunguru had declared
itself, there was no fear, with such a treatment of it, of a second
attack, until at least some days afterwards.

On the third day the camp was visited by the ambassadors of Her Highness
the Sultana of Simbamwenni, who came as her representatives to receive
the tribute which she regards herself as powerful enough to enforce. But
they, as well as Madame Simbamwenni, were informed, that as we knew it
was their custom to charge owners of caravans but one tribute, and as
they remembered the Musungu (Farquhar) had paid already, it was not fair
that I should have to pay again. The ambassadors replied with a "Ngema"
(very well), and promised to carry my answer back to their mistress.
Though it was by no means "very well" in fact, as it will be seen in
a subsequent chapter how the female Simbamwenni took advantage of an
adverse fortune which befell me to pay herself. With this I close the
chapter of incidents experienced during our transit across the maritime
region.



CHAPTER VI. -- TO UGOGO.

     A valley of despond, and hot-bed of malaria.--Myriads of
     vermin.--The Makata swamp.--A sorrowful experience catching
     a deserter.--A far-embracing prospect.--Illness of William
     Farquhar.-Lake Ugombo.--A land of promise.--The great
     Kisesa.--The plague of earwigs.


The distance from Bagamoyo to Simbamwenni we found to be 119 miles,
and was accomplished in fourteen marches. But these marches, owing to
difficulties arising from the Masika season, and more especially to the
lagging of the fourth caravan under Maganga, extended to twenty-nine
days, thus rendering our progress very slow indeed--but a little more
than four miles a-day. I infer, from what I have seen of the travelling,
that had I not been encumbered by the sick Wanyamwezi porters, I could
have accomplished the distance in sixteen days. For it was not the
donkeys that proved recreant to my confidence; they, poor animals,
carrying a weight of 150 lbs. each, arrived at Simbamwenni in first-rate
order; but it was Maganga, composed of greed and laziness, and his
weakly-bodied tribe, who were ever falling sick. In dry weather the
number of marches might have been much reduced. Of the half-dozen
of Arabs or so who preceded this Expedition along this route, two
accomplished the entire distance in eight days. From the brief
descriptions given of the country, as it day by day expanded to our
view, enough may be gleaned to give readers a fair idea of it. The
elevation of Simbamwenni cannot be much over 1,000 feet above the level,
the rise of the land having been gradual. It being the rainy season,
about which so many ominous statements were doled out to us by those
ignorant of the character of the country, we naturally saw it under its
worst aspect; but, even in this adverse phase of it, with all its depth
of black mud, its excessive dew, its dripping and chill grass, its
density of rank jungle, and its fevers, I look back upon the scene with
pleasure, for the wealth and prosperity it promises to some civilized
nation, which in some future time will come and take possession of it. A
railroad from Bagamoyo to Simbamwenni might be constructed with as
much ease and rapidity as, and at far less cost than the Union Pacific
Railway, whose rapid strides day by day towards completion the world
heard of and admired. A residence in this part of Africa, after a
thorough system of drainage had been carried out, would not be attended
with more discomfort than generally follows upon the occupation of new
land. The temperature at this season during the day never exceeded 85
degrees Fahrenheit. The nights were pleasant--too cold without a pair
of blankets for covering; and, as far as Simbamwenni, they were without
that pest which is so dreadful on the Nebraska and Kansas prairies,
the mosquito. The only annoyances I know of that would tell hard on the
settler is the determined ferocity of the mabungu, or horse-fly; the
chufwa, &c., already described, which, until the dense forests and
jungles were cleared, would be certain to render the keeping of domestic
cattle unremunerative.

Contrary to expectation the Expedition was not able to start at the end
of two days; the third and the fourth days were passed miserably enough
in the desponding valley of Ungerengeri. This river, small as it is in
the dry seasons, becomes of considerable volume and power during the
Masika, as we experienced to our sorrow. It serves as a drain to a score
of peaks and two long ranges of mountains; winding along their base, it
is the recipient of the cascades seen flashing during the few intervals
of sunlight, of all the nullahs and ravines which render the lengthy
frontage of the mountain slopes so rugged and irregular, until it glides
into the valley of Simbamwenni a formidable body of water, opposing a
serious obstacle to caravans without means to build bridges; added to
which was an incessant downfall of rain--such a rain as shuts people
in-doors and renders them miserable and unamiable--a real London
rain--an eternal drizzle accompanied with mist and fog. When the sun
shone it appeared but a pale image of itself, and old pagazis, wise in
their traditions as old whaling captains, shook their heads ominously at
the dull spectre, and declared it was doubtful if the rain would cease
for three weeks yet.

The site of the caravan camp on the hither side of the Ungerengeri was a
hot-bed of malaria, unpleasant to witness--an abomination to memory.
The filth of generations of pagazis had gathered innumerable hosts
of creeping things. Armies of black, white, and red ants infest the
stricken soil; centipedes, like worms, of every hue, clamber over shrubs
and plants; hanging to the undergrowth are the honey-combed nests
of yellow-headed wasps with stings as harmful as scorpions; enormous
beetles, as large as full-grown mice, roll dunghills over the ground; of
all sorts, shapes, sizes, and hues are the myriad-fold vermin with which
the ground teems; in short, the richest entomological collection could
not vie in variety and numbers with the species which the four walls of
my tent enclosed from morning until night.

On the fifth morning, or the 23rd April, the rain gave us a few hours'
respite, during which we managed to wade through the Stygian quagmire
reeking with noisomeness to the inundated river-bank. The soldiers
commenced at 5 A.M. to convey the baggage across from bank to bank over
a bridge which was the most rustic of the rustic kind. Only an ignorant
African would have been satisfied with its small utility as a means to
cross a deep and rapid body of water. Even for light-footed Wanyamwezi
pagazis it was anything but comfortable to traverse. Only a professional
tight-rope performer could have carried a load across with ease. To
travel over an African bridge requires, first, a long leap from land to
the limb of a tree (which may or may not be covered by water), followed
by a long jump ashore. With 70 lbs. weight on his back, the carrier
finds it difficult enough. Sometimes he is assisted by ropes
extemporized from the long convolvuli which hang from almost every tree,
but not always, these being deemed superfluities by the Washensi.

Fortunately the baggage was transferred without a single accident, and
though the torrent was strong, the donkeys were dragged through the
flood by vigorous efforts and much objurgation without a casualty.
This performance of crossing the Ungerengeri occupied fully five hours,
though energy, abuse, and fury enough were expended for an army.

Reloading and wringing our clothes dry, we set out from the horrible
neighbourhood of the river, with its reek and filth, in a northerly
direction, following a road which led up to easy and level ground. Two
obtruding hills were thus avoided on our left, and after passing them we
had shut out the view of the hateful valley.

I always found myself more comfortable and lighthearted while travelling
than when chafing and fretting in camp at delays which no effort could
avoid, and consequently I fear that some things, while on a march, may
be tinted somewhat stronger than their appearance or merit may properly
warrant. But I thought that the view opening before us was much more
agreeable than the valley of Simbamwenni with all its indescribable
fertility. It was a series of glades opening one after another between
forest clumps of young trees, hemmed in distantly by isolated peaks
and scattered mountains. Now and again, as we crested low eminences
we caught sight of the blue Usagara mountains, bounding the horizon
westerly and northerly, and looked down upon a vast expanse of plain
which lay between.

At the foot of the lengthy slope, well-watered by bubbling springs and
mountain rills, we found a comfortable khambi with well-made huts, which
the natives call Simbo. It lies just two hours or five miles north-west
of the Ungerengeri crossing. The ground is rocky, composed principally
of quartzose detritus swept down by the constant streams. In the
neighbourhood of these grow bamboo, the thickest of which was about two
and a half inches in diameter; the "myombo," a very shapely tree, with
a clean trunk like an ash, the "imbite," with large, fleshy leaves like
the "mtamba," sycamore, plum-tree, the "ugaza," ortamarisk, and the
"mgungu," a tree containing several wide branches with small leaves
clustered together in a clump, and the silk-cotton tree.

Though there are no villages or settlements in view of Simbo Khambi,
there are several clustered within the mountain folds, inhabited by
Waseguhha somewhat prone to dishonest acts and murder.

The long broad plain visible from the eminences crossed between the
Ungerengeri and Simbo was now before us, and became known to sorrowful
memory subsequently, as the Makata Valley. The initial march was from
Simbo, its terminus at Rehenneko, at the base of the Usagara mountains,
six marches distant. The valley commences with broad undulations,
covered with young forests of bamboo, which grow thickly along the
streams, the dwarf fan-palm, the stately Palmyra, and the mgungu. These
undulations soon become broken by gullies containing water, nourishing
dense crops of cane reeds and broad-bladed grass, and, emerging from
this district, wide savannah covered with tall grass open into view,
with an isolated tree here and there agreeably breaking the monotony of
the scene. The Makata is a wilderness containing but one village of the
Waseguhha throughout its broad expanse. Venison, consequently, abounds
within the forest clumps, and the kudu, hartebeest, antelope, and zebra
may be seen at early dawn emerging into the open savannahs to feed. At
night, the cyn-hyaena prowls about with its hideous clamour seeking for
sleeping prey, man or beast.

The slushy mire of the savannahs rendered marching a work of great
difficulty; its tenacious hold of the feet told terribly on men
and animals. A ten-mile march required ten hours, we were therefore
compelled to camp in the middle of this wilderness, and construct a new
khambi, a measure which was afterwards adopted by half a dozen caravans.

The cart did not arrive until nearly midnight, and with it, besides
three or four broken-down pagazis, came Bombay with the dolorous tale,
that having put his load--consisting of the property tent, one large
American axe, his two uniform coats, his shirts, beads and cloth,
powder, pistol, and hatchet--on the ground, to go and assist the cart
out of a quagmire, he had returned to the place where he had left it
and could not find it, that he believed that some thieving Washensi, who
always lurk in the rear of caravans to pick up stragglers, had decamped
with it. Which dismal tale told me at black midnight was not received
at all graciously, but rather with most wrathful words, all of which
the penitent captain received as his proper due. Working myself into a
fury, I enumerated his sins to him; he had lost a goat at Muhalleh, he
had permitted Khamisi to desert with valuable property at Imbiki; he had
frequently shown culpable negligence in not looking after the donkeys,
permitting them to be tied up at night without seeing that they had
water, and in the mornings, when about to march, he preferred to sleep
until 7 o'clock, rather than wake up early and saddle the donkeys, that
we might start at 6 o'clock; he had shown of late great love for the
fire, cowering like a bloodless man before it, torpid and apathetic; he
had now lost the property-tent in the middle of the Masika season, by
which carelessness the cloth bales would rot and become valueless; he
had lost the axe which I should want at Ujiji to construct my boat; and
finally, he had lost a pistol and hatchet, and a flaskful of the best
powder. Considering all these things, how utterly incompetent he was
to be captain, I would degrade him from his office and appoint Mabruki
Burton instead. Uledi, also, following the example of Bombay, instead of
being second captain, should give no orders to any soldiers in future,
but should himself obey those given by Mabruki--the said Mabruki being
worth a dozen Bombays, and two dozen Uledis; and so he was dismissed
with orders to return at daylight to find the tent, axe, pistol, powder,
and hatchet.

The next morning the caravan, thoroughly fatigued with the last day's
exertions, was obliged to halt. Bombay was despatched after the
lost goods; Kingaru, Mabruki the Great, and Mabruki the Little were
despatched to bring back three doti-worth of grain, on which we were to
subsist in the wilderness.

Three days passed away and we were still at camp, awaiting, with what
patience we possessed, the return of the soldiers. In the meantime
provisions ran very low, no game could be procured, the birds were so
wild. Two days shooting procured but two potfuls of birds, consisting
of grouse, quail, and pigeons. Bombay returned unsuccessfully from his
search after the missing property, and suffered deep disgrace.

On the fourth day I despatched Shaw with two more soldiers, to see what
had become of Kingaru and the two Mabrukis. Towards night he returned
completely prostrated, with a violent attack of the mukunguru, or ague;
but bringing the missing soldiers, who were thus left to report for
themselves.

With most thankful hearts did we quit our camp, where so much anxiety
of mind and fretfulness had been suffered, not heeding a furious rain,
which, after drenching us all night, might have somewhat damped our
ardor for the march under other circumstances. The road for the first
mile led over reddish ground, and was drained by gentle slopes falling
east and west; but, leaving the cover of the friendly woods, on whose
eastern margin we had been delayed so long, we emerged into one of the
savannahs, whose soil during the rain is as soft as slush and tenacious
as thick mortar, where we were all threatened with the fate of the
famous Arkansas traveller, who had sunk so low in one of the many
quagmires in Arkansas county, that nothing but his tall "stove-pipe" hat
was left visible.

Shaw was sick, and the whole duty of driving the foundering caravan
devolved upon myself. The Wanyamwezi donkeys stuck in the mire as if
they were rooted to it. As fast as one was flogged from his stubborn
position, prone to the depths fell another, giving me a Sisyphean
labour, which was maddening trader pelting rain, assisted by such men
as Bombay and Uledi, who could not for a whole skin's sake stomach the
storm and mire. Two hours of such a task enabled me to drag my caravan
over a savannah one mile and a half broad; and barely had I finished
congratulating myself over my success before I was halted by a deep
ditch, which, filled with rain-water from the inundated savannahs, had
become a considerable stream, breast-deep, flowing swiftly into the
Makata. Donkeys had to be unloaded, led through a torrent, and loaded
again on the other bank--an operation which consumed a full hour.

Presently, after straggling through a wood clump, barring our progress
was another stream, swollen into a river. The bridge being swept away,
we were obliged to swim and float our baggage over, which delayed us
two hours more. Leaving this second river-bank, we splashed, waded,
occasionally half-swimming, and reeled through mire, water-dripping
grass and matama stalks, along the left bank of the Makata proper, until
farther progress was effectually prevented for that day by a deep bend
of the river, which we should be obliged to cross the next day.

Though but six miles were traversed during that miserable day, the march
occupied ten hours.

Half dead with fatigue, I yet could feel thankful that it was not
accompanied by fever, which it seemed a miracle to avoid; for if ever a
district was cursed with the ague, the Makata wilderness ranks foremost
of those afflicted. Surely the sight of the dripping woods enveloped
in opaque mist, of the inundated country with lengthy swathes of
tiger-grass laid low by the turbid flood, of mounds of decaying trees
and canes, of the swollen river and the weeping sky, was enough to
engender the mukunguru! The well-used khambi, and the heaps of filth
surrounding it, were enough to create a cholera!

The Makata, a river whose breadth during the dry season is but forty
feet, in the Masika season assumes the breadth, depth, and force of an
important river. Should it happen to be an unusually rainy season, it
inundates the great plain which stretches on either side, and converts
it into a great lake. It is the main feeder of the Wami river, which
empties into the sea between the ports of Saadani and Whinde. About ten
miles north-east of the Makata crossing, the Great Makata, the Little
Makata, a nameless creek, and the Rudewa river unite; and the river thus
formed becomes known as the Wami. Throughout Usagara the Wami is known
as the Mukondokwa. Three of these streams take their rise from the
crescent-like Usagara range, which bounds the Makata plain south and
south-westerly; while the Rudewa rises in the northern horn of the same
range.

So swift was the flow of the Makata, and so much did its unsteady
bridge, half buried in the water, imperil the safety of the property,
that its transfer from bank to bank occupied fully five hours. No sooner
had we landed every article on the other side, undamaged by the water,
than the rain poured down in torrents that drenched them all, as if they
had been dragged through the river. To proceed through the swamp which
an hour's rain had formed was utterly out of the question. We were
accordingly compelled to camp in a place where every hour furnished its
quota of annoyance. One of the Wangwana soldiers engaged at Bagamoyo,
named Kingaru, improved an opportunity to desert with another Mgwana's
kit. My two detectives, Uledi (Grant's valet), and Sarmean, were
immediately despatched in pursuit, both being armed with American
breech-loaders. They went about their task with an adroitness and
celerity which augured well for their success. In an hour they returned
with the runaway, having found him hidden in the house of a Mseguhha
chief called Kigondo, who lived about a mile from the eastern bank of
the river, and who had accompanied Uledi and Sarmean to receive his
reward, and render an account of the incident.

Kigondo said, when he had been seated, "I saw this man carrying a
bundle, and running hard, by which I knew that he was deserting you. We
(my wife and 1) were sitting in our little watch-hut, watching our corn;
and, as the road runs close by, this man was obliged to come close to
us. We called to him when he was near, saying, 'Master, where are you
going so fast? Are you deserting the Musungu, for we know you belong to
him, since you bought from us yesterday two doti worth of meat?' 'Yes,'
said he, 'I am running away; I want to get to Simbamwenni. If you will
take me there, I will give you a doti.' We said to him then, 'Come into
our house, and we will talk it over quietly. When he was in our house
in an inner room, we locked him up, and went out again to the watch; but
leaving word with the women to look out for him. We knew that, if you
wanted him, you would send askari (soldiers) after him. We had but
lit our pipes when we saw two men armed with short guns, and having no
loads, coming along the road, looking now and then on the ground, as
if they were looking at footmarks. We knew them to be the men we were
expecting; so we hailed them, and said, 'Masters, what are ye looking
for?' \ They said, 'We are looking for a man who has deserted our
master. Here are his footsteps. If you have been long in your hut you
must have seen him, Can you tell us where he is?' We said, 'yes; he is
in our house. If you will come with us, we will give him up to you; but
your master must give us something for catching him.'"

As Kigondo had promised to deliver Kingaru up, there remained nothing
further to do for Uledi and Sarmean but to take charge of their
prisoner, and bring him and his captors to my camp on the western bank
of the Makata. Kingaru received two dozen lashes, and was chained; his
captor a doti, besides five khete of red coral beads for his wife.

That down-pour of rain which visited us the day we crossed the Makata
proved the last of the Masika season. As the first rainfall which we had
experienced occurred on the 23rd March, and the last on the 30th April,
its duration was thirty-nine days. The seers of Bagamoyo had delivered
their vaticinations concerning this same Masika with solemnity. "For
forty days," said they, "rain would fall incessantly;" whereas we had
but experienced eighteen days' rain. Nevertheless, we were glad that it
was over, for we were tired of stopping day after day to dry the bales
and grease the tools and ironware, and of seeing all things of cloth and
leather rot visibly before our eyes.

The 1st of May found us struggling through the mire and water of the
Makata with a caravan bodily sick, from the exertion and fatigue of
crossing so many rivers and wading through marshes. Shaw was still
suffering from his first mukunguru; Zaidi, a soldier, was critically
ill with the small-pox; the kichuma-chuma, "little irons," had hold
of Bombay across the chest, rendering him the most useless of the
unserviceables; Mabruk Saleem, a youth of lusty frame, following the
example of Bombay, laid himself down on the marshy ground, professing
his total inability to breast the Makata swamp; Abdul Kader, the Hindi
tailor and adventurer--the weakliest of mortal bodies--was ever ailing
for lack of "force," as he expressed it in French, i.e. "strength," ever
indisposed to work, shiftless, mock-sick, but ever hungry. "Oh! God,"
was the cry of my tired soul, "were all the men of my Expedition like
this man I should be compelled to return." Solomon was wise perhaps
from inspiration, perhaps from observation; I was becoming wise by
experience, and I was compelled to observe that when mud and wet sapped
the physical energy of the lazily-inclined, a dog-whip became their
backs, restoring them to a sound--some-times to an extravagant activity.

For thirty miles from our camp was the Makata plain an extensive swamp.
The water was on an average one foot in depth; in some places we plunged
into holes three, four, and even five feet deep. Plash, splash, plash,
splash, were the only sounds we heard from the commencement of the march
until we found the bomas occupying the only dry spots along the line of
march. This kind of work continued for two days, until we came in sight
of the Rudewa river, another powerful stream with banks brimful of
rushing rain-water. Crossing a branch of the Rudewa, and emerging from
the dank reedy grass crowding the western bank, the view consisted of
an immense sheet of water topped by clumps of grass tufts and foliage of
thinly scattered trees, bounded ten or twelve miles off by the eastern
front of the Usagara mountain range. The acme of discomfort and vexation
was realized on the five-mile march from the Rudewa branch. As myself
and the Wangwana appeared with the loaded donkeys, the pagazis were
observed huddled on a mound. When asked if the mound was the camp, they
replied "No." "Why, then, do you stop here?"--"Ugh! water plenty!!" One
drew a line across his loins to indicate the depth of water before us,
another drew a line across his chest, another across his throat another
held his hand over his head, by which he meant that we should have to
swim. Swim five miles through a reedy marsh! It was impossible; it was
also impossible that such varied accounts could all be correct. Without
hesitation, therefore, I ordered the Wangwana to proceed with the
animals. After three hours of splashing through four feet of water we
reached dry land, and had traversed the swamp of Makata. But not without
the swamp with its horrors having left a durable impression upon our
minds; no one was disposed to forget its fatigues, nor the nausea of
travel which it almost engendered. Subsequently, we had to remember its
passage still more vividly, and to regret that we had undertaken the
journey during the Masika season, when the animals died from this date
by twos and threes, almost every day, until but five sickly worn-out
beasts remained; when the Wangwana, soldiers, and pagazis sickened of
diseases innumerable; when I myself was finally compelled to lie a-bed
with an attack of acute dysentery which brought me to the verge of the
grave. I suffered more, perhaps, than I might have done had I taken the
proper medicine, but my over-confidence in that compound, called "Collis
Brown's Chlorodyne," delayed the cure which ultimately resulted from a
judicious use of Dover's powder. In no one single case of diarrhoea
or acute dysentery had this "Chlorodyne," about which so much has been
said, and written, any effect of lessening the attack whatever, though
I used three bottles. To the dysentery contracted during, the transit of
the Makata swamp, only two fell victims, and those were a pagazi and my
poor little dog "Omar," my companion from India.

The only tree of any prominence in the Makata valley was the Palmyra
palm (Borassus flabelliformis), and this grew in some places in numbers
sufficient to be called a grove; the fruit was not ripe while we passed,
otherwise we might have enjoyed it as a novelty. The other vegetation
consisted of the several species of thorn bush, and the graceful
parachute-topped and ever-green mimosa.

The 4th of May we were ascending a gentle slope towards the important
village of Rehenneko, the first village near to which we encamped in
Usagara. It lay at the foot of the mountain, and its plenitude and
mountain air promised us comfort and health. It was a square, compact
village, surrounded by a thick wall of mud, enclosing cone-topped huts,
roofed with bamboo and holcus-stalks; and contained a population of
about a thousand souls. It has several wealthy and populous neighbours,
whose inhabitants are independent enough in their manner, but not
unpleasantly so. The streams are of the purest water, fresh, and
pellucid as crystal, bubbling over round pebbles and clean gravel, with
a music delightful to hear to the traveller in search of such a sweetly
potable element.

The bamboo grows to serviceable size in the neighbourhood of Rehenneko,
strong enough for tent and banghy poles; and in numbers sufficient to
supply an army. The mountain slopes are densely wooded with trees that
might supply very good timber for building purposes.

We rested four days at this pleasant spot, to recruit ourselves, and to
allow the sick and feeble time to recover a little before testing their
ability in the ascent of the Usagara mountains.

The 8th of May saw us with our terribly jaded men and animals winding up
the steep slopes of the first line of hills; gaining the summit of which
we obtained a view remarkably grand, which exhibited as in a master
picture the broad valley of the Makata, with its swift streams like so
many cords of silver, as the sunshine played on the unshadowed reaches
of water, with its thousands of graceful palms adding not a little to
the charm of the scene, with the great wall of the Uruguru and
Uswapanga mountains dimly blue, but sublime in their loftiness and
immensity--forming a fit background to such an extensive, far-embracing
prospect.

Turning our faces west, we found ourselves in a mountain world, fold
rising above fold, peak behind peak, cone jostling cone; away to the
north, to the west, to the south, the mountain tops rolled like so many
vitrified waves; not one adust or arid spot was visible in all this
scene. The diorama had no sudden changes or striking contrasts, for a
universal forest of green trees clothed every peak, cone, and summit.

To the men this first day's march through the mountain region of Usagara
was an agreeable interlude after the successive journey over the flats
and heavy undulations of the maritime region, but to the loaded and
enfeebled animals it was most trying. We were minus two by the time
we had arrived at our camp, but seven miles from Rehenneko, our first
instalment of the debt we owed to Makata. Water, sweet and clear, was
abundant in the deep hollows of the mountains, flowing sometimes over
beds of solid granite, sometimes over a rich red sandstone, whose
soft substance was soon penetrated by the aqueous element, and whose
particles were swept away constantly to enrich the valley below; and in
other ravines it dashed, and roared, miniature thunder, as it leaped
over granite boulders and quartz rock.

The 9th of May, after another such an up-and-down course, ascending
hills and descending into the twilight depths of deepening valleys, we
came suddenly upon the Mukondokwa, and its narrow pent-up valley crowded
with rank reedy grass, cane, and thorny bushes; and rugged tamarisk
which grappled for existence with monster convolvuli, winding their
coils around their trunks with such tenacity and strength that the
tamarisk seemed grown but for their support.

The valley was barely a quarter of a mile broad in some places--at
others it widened to about a mile. The hills on either side shot up into
precipitous slopes, clothed with mimosa, acacia, and tamarisk,
enclosing a river and valley whose curves and folds were as various as a
serpent's.

Shortly after debouching into the Mukondokwa valley, we struck the
road traversed by Captains Buxton and Speke in 1857, between Mbumi and
Kadetamare (the latter place should be called Misonghi, Kadetamare
being but the name of a chief). After following the left bank of
the Mukondokwa, during which our route diverged to every point from
south-east to west, north and northeast, for about an hour, we came to
the ford. Beyond the ford, a short half-hour's march, we came to Kiora.

At this filthy village of Kiora, which was well-grounded with goat-dung,
and peopled with a wonderful number of children for a hamlet that did
not number twenty families, with a hot sun pouring on the limited open
space, with a fury that exceeded 128 degrees Fahrenheit; which swarmed
with flies and insects of known and unknown species; I found, as I had
been previously informed, the third caravan, which had started out of
Bagamoyo so well fitted and supplied. The leader, who was no other
than the white man Farquhar, was sick-a-bed with swollen legs (Bright's
disease), unable to move.

As he heard my voice, Farquhar staggered out of his tent, so changed
from my spruce mate who started from Bagamoyo, that I hardly knew him at
first. His legs were ponderous, elephantine, since his leg-illness was
of elephantiasis, or dropsy. His face was of a deathly pallor, for he
had not been out of his tent for two weeks.

A breezy hill, overlooking the village of Kiora, was chosen by me for
my camping-ground, and as soon as the tents were pitched, the animals
attended to, and a boma made of thorn bushes, Farquhar was carried up
by four men into my tent. Upon being questioned as to the cause of his
illness, he said he did not know what had caused it. He had no pain, he
thought, anywhere. I asked, "Do you not sometimes feel pain on the right
side?"--"Yes, I think I do; but I don't know."--"Nor over the left
nipple sometimes--a quick throbbing, with a shortness of
breath?"--"Yes, I think I have. I know I breathe quick sometimes." He
said his only trouble was in the legs, which were swollen to an immense
size. Though he had a sound appetite, he yet felt weak in the legs.

From the scant information of the disease and its peculiarities, as
given by Farquhar himself, I could only make out, by studying a little
medical book I had with me, that "a swelling of the legs, and sometimes
of the body, might result from either heart, liver, or kidney disease."
But I did not know to what to ascribe the disease, unless it was to
elephantiasis--a disease most common in Zanzibar; nor did I know how
to treat it in a man who, could not tell me whether he felt pain in his
head or in his back, in his feet or in his chest.

It was therefore fortunate for me that I overtook him at Kiora; though
he was about to prove a sore incumbrance to me, for he was not able to
walk, and the donkey-carriage, after the rough experience of the Makata
valley, was failing. I could not possibly leave him at Kiora, death
would soon overtake him there; but how long I could convey a man in
such a state, through a country devoid of carriage, was a question to be
resolved by circumstances.

On the 11th of May, the third and fifth caravans, now united, followed
up the right bank of the Mukondokwa, through fields of holcus, the great
Mukondokwa ranges rising in higher altitude as we proceeded west, and
enfolding us in the narrow river valley round about. We left Muniyi
Usagara on our right, and soon after found hill-spurs athwart our road,
which we were obliged to ascend and descend.

A march of eight miles from the ford of Misonghi brought us to another
ford of the Mukondokwa, where we bid a long adieu to Burton's road,
which led up to the Goma pass and up the steep slopes of Rubeho. Our
road left the right bank and followed the left over a country quite
the reverse of the Mukondokwa Valley, enclosed between mountain ranges.
Fertile soils and spontaneous vegetation, reeking with miasma and
overpowering from their odour, we had exchanged for a drouthy wilderness
of aloetic and cactaceous plants, where the kolquall and several thorn
bushes grew paramount.

Instead of the tree-clad heights, slopes and valleys, instead of
cultivated fields, we saw now the confines of uninhabited wilderness.
The hill-tops were bared of their bosky crowns, and revealed their rocky
natures bleached white by rain and sun. Nguru Peak, the loftiest of the
Usagara cones, stood right shoulderwards of us as we ascended the long
slope of dun-grey soil which rose beyond the brown Mukondokwa on the
left.

At the distance of two miles from the last ford, we found a neat khambi,
situated close to the river, where it first broke into a furious rapid.

The next morning the caravan was preparing for the march, when I was
informed that the "Bana Mdogo"--little master--Shaw, had not yet arrived
with the cart, and the men in charge of it. Late the previous night I
had despatched one donkey for Shaw, who had said he was too ill to walk,
and another for the load that was on the cart; and had retired satisfied
that they would soon arrive. My conclusion, when I learned in the
morning that the people had not yet come in, was that Shaw was not aware
that for five days we should have to march through a wilderness totally
uninhabited. I therefore despatched Chowpereh, a Mgwana soldier, with
the following note to him:--"You will, upon receipt of this order pitch
the cart into the nearest ravine, gully, or river, as well as all the
extra pack saddles; and come at once, for God's sake, for we must not
starve here!"

One, two, three, and four hours were passed by me in the utmost
impatience, waiting, but in vain, for Shaw. Having a long march before
us, I could wait no longer, but went to meet his party myself. About a
quarter of mile from the ford I met the van of the laggards--stout
burly Chowpereh--and, O cartmakers, listen! he carried the cart on his
head--wheels, shafts, body, axle, and all complete; he having found that
carrying it was much easier than drawing it. The sight was such a damper
to my regard for it as an experiment, that the cart was wheeled into the
depths of the tall reeds, and there left. The central figure was Shaw
himself, riding at a gait which seemed to leave it doubtful on my mind
whether he or his animal felt most sleepy. Upon expostulating with him
for keeping the caravan so long waiting when there was a march on hand,
in a most peculiar voice--which he always assumed when disposed to be
ugly-tempered--he said he had done the best he could; but as I had
seen the solemn pace at which he rode, I felt dubious about his best
endeavours; and of course there was a little scene, but the young
European mtongi of an East African expedition must needs sup with the
fellows he has chosen.

We arrived at Madete at 4 P.M., minus two donkeys, which had stretched
their weary limbs in death. We had crossed the Mukondokwa about 3 P.M.,
and after taking its bearings and course, I made sure that its rise took
place near a group of mountains about forty miles north by west of Nguru
Peak. Our road led W.N.W., and at this place finally diverged from the
river.

On the 14th, after a march of seven miles over hills whose sandstone
and granite formation cropped visibly here and there above the surface,
whose stony and dry aspect seemed reflected in every bush and plant, and
having gained an altitude of about eight hundred feet above the flow
of the Mukondokwa, we sighted the Lake of Ugombo--a grey sheet of water
lying directly at the foot of the hill, from whose summit we gazed at
the scene. The view was neither beautiful nor pretty, but what I should
call refreshing; it afforded a pleasant relief to the eyes fatigued
from dwelling on the bleak country around. Besides, the immediate
neighbourhood of the lake was too tame to call forth any enthusiasm;
there were no grandly swelling mountains, no smiling landscapes--nothing
but a dun-brown peak, about one thousand feet high above the surface of
the lake at its western extremity, from which the lake derived its name,
Ugombo; nothing but a low dun-brown irregular range, running parallel
with its northern shore at the distance of a mile; nothing but a low
plain stretching from its western shore far away towards the Mpwapwa
Mountains and Marenga Mkali, then apparent to us from our coign of
vantage, from which extensive scene of dun-brownness we were glad to
rest our eyes on the quiet grey water beneath.

Descending from the summit of the range, which bounded the lake east for
about four hundred feet, we travelled along the northern shore. The time
occupied in the journey from the eastern to the western extremity was
exactly one hour and thirty minutes.

As this side represents its greatest length I conclude that the lake is
three miles long by two miles greatest breadth. The immediate shores of
the lake on all sides, for at least fifty feet from the water's edge,
is one impassable morass nourishing rank reeds and rushes, where the
hippopotamus' ponderous form has crushed into watery trails the soft
composition of the morass as he passes from the lake on his nocturnal
excursions; the lesser animals; such as the "mbogo" (buffalo), the
"punda-terra" (zebra); the "twiga" (giraffe), the boar, the kudu, the
hyrax or coney and the antelope; come here also to quench their thirst
by night. The surface of the lake swarms with an astonishing variety of
water-fowl; such as black swan, duck, ibis sacra cranes, pelicans; and
soaring above on the look-out for their prey are fish-eagles and
hawks, while the neighbourhood is resonant with the loud chirps of the
guinea-fowls calling for their young, with the harsh cry of the toucan,
the cooing of the pigeon, and the "to-whit, to-whoo" of the owl. From
the long grass in its vicinity also issue the grating and loud cry of
the florican, woodcock, and grouse.

Being obliged to halt here two days, owing to the desertion of the Hindi
cooper Jako with one of my best carbines, I improved the opportunity
of exploring the northern and southern shores of the lake. At the rocky
foot of a low, humpy hill on the northern side, about fifteen feet
above the present surface of the water I detected in most distinct and
definite lines the agency of waves. From its base could be traced clear
to the edge of the dank morass tiny lines of comminuted shell as plainly
marked as the small particles which lie in rows on a beech after a
receding tide. There is no doubt that the wave-marks on the sandstone
might have been traced much higher by one skilled in geology; it was
only its elementary character that was visible to me. Nor do I entertain
the least doubt, after a two days' exploration of the neighbourhood,
especially of the low plain at the western end, that this Lake of Ugombo
is but the tail of what was once a large body of water equal in extent
to the Tanganika; and, after ascending half way up Ugombo Peak, this
opinion was confirmed when I saw the long-depressed line of plain at
its base stretching towards the Mpwapwa Mountains thirty miles off, and
thence round to Marenga Mkali, and covering all that extensive surface
of forty miles in breadth, and an unknown length. A depth of twelve feet
more, I thought, as I gazed upon it, would give the lake a length
of thirty miles, and a breadth of ten. A depth of thirty feet would
increase its length over a hundred miles, and give it a breadth of
fifty, for such was the level nature of the plain that stretched west
of Ugombo, and north of Marenga Mkali. Besides the water of the lake
partook slightly of the bitter nature of the Matamombo creek, distant
fifteen miles, and in a still lesser degree of that of Marenga Mkali,
forty miles off.

Towards the end of the first day of our halt the Hindi cooper Jako
arrived in camp, alleging as an excuse, that feeling fatigued he had
fallen asleep in some bushes a few feet from the roadside. Having been
the cause of our detention in the hungry wilderness of Ugombo, I was
not in a frame of mind to forgive him; so, to prevent any future truant
tricks on his part, I was under the necessity of including him with the
chained gangs of runaways.

Two more of our donkeys died, and to prevent any of the valuable
baggage being left behind, I was obliged to send Farquhar off on my own
riding-ass to the village of Mpwapwa, thirty miles off, under charge of
Mabruki Burton.

To save the Expedition from ruin, I was reluctantly compelled to come to
the conclusion that it were better for me, for him, and concerned, that
he be left with some kind chief of a village, with a six months'
supply of cloth and beads, until he got well, than that he make his own
recovery impossible.

The 16th of May saw us journeying over the plain which lies between
Ugombo and Mpwapwa, skirting close, at intervals, a low range of
trap-rock, out of which had become displaced by some violent agency
several immense boulders. On its slopes grew the kolquall to a size
which I had not seen in Abyssinia. In the plain grew baobab, and immense
tamarind, and a variety of thorn.

Within five hours from Ugombo the mountain range deflected towards the
north-east, while we continued on a north-westerly course, heading for
the lofty mountain-line of the Mpwapwa. To our left towered to the blue
clouds the gigantic Rubeho. The adoption of this new road to Unyanyembe
by which we were travelling was now explained--we were enabled to
avoid the passes and stiff steeps of Rubeho, and had nothing worse to
encounter than a broad smooth plain, which sloped gently to Ugogo.

After a march of fifteen miles we camped at a dry mtoni, called
Matamombo, celebrated for its pools of bitter water of the colour
of ochre. Monkeys and rhinoceroses, besides kudus, steinboks, and
antelopes, were numerous in the vicinity. At this camp my little dog
"Omar" died of inflammation of the bowels, almost on the threshold of
the country--Ugogo--where his faithful watchfulness would have been
invaluable to me.

The next day's march was also fifteen miles in length, through one
interminable jungle of thorn-bushes. Within two miles of the camp, the
road led up a small river bed, broad as an avenue, clear to the khambi
of Mpwapwa; which was situated close to a number of streams of the
purest water.

The following morning found us much fatigued after the long marches
from Ugombo, and generally disposed to take advantage of the precious
luxuries Mpwapwa offered to caravans fresh from the fly-plagued lands
of the Waseguhha and Wadoe. Sheikh Thani--clever but innocently-speaking
old Arab--was encamped under the grateful umbrage of a huge Mtamba
sycamore, and had been regaling himself with fresh milk, luscious
mutton, and rich bullock humps, ever since his arrival here, two days
before; and, as he informed me, it did not suit his views to quit such
a happy abundance so soon for the saline nitrous water of Marenga Mkali,
with its several terekezas, and manifold disagreeables. "No!" said he to
me, emphatically, "better stop here two or three days, give your tired
animals some rest; collect all the pagazis you can, fill your inside
with fresh milk, sweet potatoes, beef, mutton, ghee, honey, beans,
matama, maweri, and nuts;--then, Inshallah! we shall go together through
Ugogo without stopping anywhere." As the advice tallied accurately with
my own desired and keen appetite for the good things he named, he had
not long to wait for my assent to his counsel. "Ugogo," continued he,
"is rich with milk and honey--rich in flour, beans and almost every
eatable thing; and, Inshallah! before another week is gone we shall be
in Ugogo!"

I had heard from passing caravans so many extremely favourable reports
respecting Ugogo and its productions that it appeared to me a very Land
of Promise, and I was most anxious to refresh my jaded stomach with some
of the precious esculents raised in Ugogo; but when I heard that Mpwapwa
also furnished some of those delicate eatables, and good things, most of
the morning hours were spent in inducing the slow-witted people to part
with them; and when, finally, eggs, milk, honey, mutton, ghee, ground
matama and beans had been collected in sufficient quantities to produce
a respectable meal, my keenest attention and best culinary talents were
occupied for a couple of hours in converting this crude supply into
a breakfast which could be accepted by and befit a stomach at once
fastidious and famished, such as mine was. The subsequent healthy
digestion of it proved my endeavours to have been eminently successful.
At the termination of this eventful day, the following remark was jotted
down in my diary: "Thank God! After fifty-seven days of living
upon matama porridge and tough goat, I have enjoyed with unctuous
satisfaction a real breakfast and dinner."

It was in one of the many small villages which are situated upon the
slopes of the Mpwapwa that a refuge and a home for Farquhar was found
until he should be enabled by restored health to start to join us at
Unyanyembe.

Food was plentiful and of sufficient variety to suit the most
fastidious--cheap also, much cheaper than we had experienced for many
a day. Leucole, the chief of the village, with whom arrangements for
Farquhar's protection and comfort were made, was a little old man of
mild eye and very pleasing face, and on being informed that it was
intended to leave the Musungu entirely under his charge, suggested that
some man should be left to wait on him, and interpret his wishes to his
people.

As Jako was the only one who could speak English, except Bombay and
Selim, Jako was appointed, and the chief Leucole was satisfied. Six
months' provisions of white beads, Merikani and Kaniki cloth, together
with two doti of handsome cloth to serve as a present to Leucole after
his recovery, were taken to Farquhar by Bombay, together with a Starr's
carbine, 300 rounds of cartridge, a set of cooking pots, and 3 lbs. of
tea.

Abdullah bin Nasib, who was found encamped here with five hundred
pagazis, and a train of Arab and Wasawahili satellites, who revolved
around his importance, treated me in somewhat the same manner that Hamed
bin Sulayman treated Speke at Kasenge. Followed by his satellites, he
came (a tall nervous-looking man, of fifty or thereabouts) to see me in
my camp, and asked me if I wished to purchase donkeys. As all my animals
were either sick or moribund, I replied very readily in the affirmative,
upon which he graciously said he would sell me as many as I wanted, and
for payment I could give him a draft on Zanzibar. I thought him a very
considerate and kind person, fully justifying the encomiums lavished
on him in Burton's 'Lake Regions of Central Africa,' and accordingly I
treated him with the consideration due to so great and good a man. The
morrow came, and with it went Abdullah bin Nasib, or "Kisesa," as he is
called by the Wanyamwezi, with all his pagazis, his train of followers,
and each and every one of his donkeys, towards Bagamoyo, without so much
as giving a "Kwaheri," or good-bye.

At this place there are generally to be found from ten to thirty pagazis
awaiting up-caravans. I was fortunate enough to secure twelve good
people, who, upon my arrival at Unyanyembe, without an exception,
voluntarily engaged themselves as carriers to Ujiji. With the formidable
marches of Marenga Mkali in front, I felt thankful for this happy
windfall, which resolved the difficulties I had been anticipating; for
I had but ten donkeys left, and four of these were so enfeebled that
they were worthless as baggage animals.

Mpwapwa--so called by the Arabs, who have managed to corrupt almost
every native word--is called "Mbambwa" by the Wasagara. It is a mountain
range rising over 6,000 feet above the sea, bounding on the north the
extensive plain which commences at Ugombo lake, and on the east that
part of the plain which is called Marenga Mkali, which stretches away
beyond the borders of Uhumba. Opposite Mpwapwa, at the distance of
thirty miles or so, rises the Anak peak of Rubeho, with several other
ambitious and tall brethren cresting long lines of rectilinear scarps,
which ascend from the plain of Ugombo and Marenga Mkali as regularly as
if they had been chiselled out by the hands of generations of masons and
stonecutters.

Upon looking at Mpwapwa's greenly-tinted slopes, dark with many
a densely-foliaged tree; its many rills flowing sweet and clear,
nourishing besides thick patches of gum and thorn bush, giant sycamore
and parachute-topped mimosa, and permitting my imagination to picture
sweet views behind the tall cones above, I was tempted to brave the
fatigue of an ascent to the summit. Nor was my love for the picturesque
disappointed. One sweep of the eyes embraced hundreds of square miles
of plain and mountain, from Ugombo Peak away to distant Ugogo, and
from Rubeho and Ugogo to the dim and purple pasture lands of the wild,
untamable Wahumba. The plain of Ugombo and its neighbour of Marenga
Mkali, apparently level as a sea, was dotted here and there with
"hillocks dropt in Nature's careless haste," which appeared like islands
amid the dun and green expanse. Where the jungle was dense the colour
was green, alternating with dark brown; where the plain appeared denuded
of bush and brake it had a whity-brown appearance, on which the passing
clouds now and again cast their deep shadows. Altogether this side
of the picture was not inviting; it exhibited too plainly the true
wilderness in its sternest aspect; but perhaps the knowledge that in the
bosom of the vast plain before me there was not one drop of water but
was bitter as nitre, and undrinkable as urine, prejudiced me against
it, The hunter might consider it a paradise, for in its depths were
all kinds of game to attract his keenest instincts; but to the mere
traveller it had a stern outlook. Nearer, however, to the base of the
Mpwapwa the aspect of the plain altered. At first the jungle thinned,
openings in the wood appeared, then wide and naked clearings, then
extensive fields of the hardy holcus, Indian corn, and maweri or bajri,
with here and there a square tembe or village. Still nearer ran thin
lines of fresh young grass, great trees surrounded a patch of alluvial
meadow. A broad river-bed, containing several rivulets of water, ran
through the thirsty fields, conveying the vivifying element which in
this part of Usagara was so scarce and precious. Down to the river-bed
sloped the Mpwapwa, roughened in some places by great boulders of
basalt, or by rock masses, which had parted from a precipitous scarp,
where clung the kolquall with a sure hold, drawing nourishment where
every other green thing failed; clad in others by the hardy mimosa,
which rose like a sloping bank of green verdure almost to the summit.
And, happy sight to me so long a stranger to it, there were hundreds of
cattle grazing, imparting a pleasing animation to the solitude of the
deep folds of the mountain range.

But the fairest view was obtained by looking northward towards the dense
group of mountains which buttressed the front range, facing towards
Rubeho. It was the home of the winds, which starting here and sweeping
down the precipitous slopes and solitary peaks on the western side,
and gathering strength as they rushed through the prairie-like Marenga
Mkali, howled through Ugogo and Unyamwezi with the force of a storm,
It was also the home of the dews, where sprang the clear springs which
cheered by their music the bosky dells below, and enriched the populous
district of Mpwapwa. One felt better, stronger, on this breezy height,
drinking in the pure air and feasting the eyes on such a varied
landscape as it presented, on spreading plateaus green as lawns, on
smooth rounded tops, on mountain vales containing recesses which
might charm a hermit's soul, on deep and awful ravines where reigned
a twilight gloom, on fractured and riven precipices, on huge
fantastically-worn boulders which overtopped them, on picturesque tracts
which embraced all that was wild, and all that was poetical in Nature.

Mpwapwa, though the traveller from the coast will feel grateful for the
milk it furnished after being so long deprived of it, will be kept in
mind as a most remarkable place for earwigs. In my tent they might
be counted by thousands; in my slung cot they were by hundreds; on my
clothes they were by fifties; on my neck and head they were by scores.
The several plagues of locusts, fleas, and lice sink into utter
insignificance compared with this fearful one of earwigs. It is true
they did not bite, and they did not irritate the cuticle, but what their
presence and numbers suggested was something so horrible that it drove
one nearly insane to think of it. Who will come to East Africa without
reading the experiences of Burton and Speke? Who is he that having read
them will not remember with horror the dreadful account given by Speke
of his encounters with these pests? My intense nervous watchfulness
alone, I believe, saved me from a like calamity.

Second to the earwigs in importance and in numbers were the white
ants, whose powers of destructiveness were simply awful. Mats, cloth,
portmanteaus, clothes, in short, every article I possessed, seemed on
the verge of destruction, and, as I witnessed their voracity, I felt
anxious lest my tent should be devoured while I slept. This was the
first khambi since leaving the coast where their presence became a
matter of anxiety; at all other camping places hitherto the red and
black ants had usurped our attention, but at Mpwapwa the red species
were not seen, while the black were also very scarce.

After a three days' halt at Mpwapwa I decided of a march to Marenga
Mkali, which should be uninterrupted until we reached Mvumi in Ugogo,
where I should be inducted into the art of paying tribute to the Wagogo
chiefs. The first march to Kisokweh was purposely made short, being
barely four miles, in order to enable Sheikh Thani, Sheikh Hamed, and
five or six Wasawahili caravans to come up with me at Chunyo on the
confines of Marenga Mkali.



CHAPTER VII. -- MARENGA MKALI, UGOGO, AND UYANZI, TO UNYANYEMBE.

     Mortality amongst the baggage animals.--The contumacious
     Wagogo--Mobs of Maenads.--Tribute paying.--Necessity of
     prudence.--Oration of the guide.--The genuine "Ugogians."--
     Vituperative power.--A surprised chief.--The famous
     Mizanza.--Killing hyaenas.--The Greeks and Romans of
     Africa.--A critical moment.--The "elephant's back."--The
     wilderness of Ukimbu.--End of the first stage of the
     search.--Arrival at Unyanyembe.


The 22nd of May saw Thani and Hamed's caravans united with my own at
Chunyo, three and a half hours' march from Mpwapwa. The road from the
latter place ran along the skirts of the Mpwapwa range; at three or four
places it crossed outlying spurs that stood isolated from the main body
of the range. The last of these hill spurs, joined by an elevated cross
ridge to the Mpwapwa, shelters the tembe of Chunyo, situated on the
western face, from the stormy gusts that come roaring down the steep
slopes. The water of Chunyo is eminently bad, in fact it is its
saline-nitrous nature which has given the name Marenga Mkali--bitter
water--to the wilderness which separates Usagara from Ugogo. Though
extremely offensive to the palate, Arabs and the natives drink it
without fear, and without any bad results; but they are careful to
withhold their baggage animals from the pits. Being ignorant of its
nature, and not exactly understanding what precise location was meant
by Marenga Mkali, I permitted the donkeys to be taken to water, as usual
after a march; and the consequence was calamitous in the extreme. What
the fearful swamp of Makata had spared, the waters of Marenga Mkali
destroyed. In less than five days after our departure from Chunyo or
Marenga Mali, five out of the nine donkeys left to me at the time--the
five healthiest animals--fell victims.

We formed quite an imposing caravan as we emerged from inhospitable
Chunyo, in number amounting to about four hundred souls. We were strong
in guns, flags, horns, sounding drums and noise. To Sheikh Hamed, by
permission of Sheikh Thani, and myself was allotted the task of guiding
and leading this great caravan through dreaded Ugogo; which was a most
unhappy selection, as will be seen hereafter.

Marenga Mali, over thirty miles across, was at last before us. This
distance had to be traversed within thirty-six hours, so that the
fatigue of the ordinary march would be more than doubled by this.
From Chunyo to Ugogo not one drop of water was to be found. As a
large caravan, say over two hundred souls, seldom travels over one and
three-quarter miles per hour, a march of thirty miles would require
seventeen hours of endurance without water and but little rest. East
Africa generally possessing unlimited quantities of water, caravans
have not been compelled for lack of the element to have recourse to
the mushok of India and the khirbeh of Egypt. Being able to cross the
waterless districts by a couple of long marches, they content themselves
for the time with a small gourdful, and with keeping their imaginations
dwelling upon the copious quantities they will drink upon arrival at the
watering-place.

The march through this waterless district was most monotonous, and a
dangerous fever attacked me, which seemed to eat into my very vitals.
The wonders of Africa that bodied themselves forth in the shape of
flocks of zebras, giraffes, elands, or antelopes, galloping over the
jungleless plain, had no charm for me; nor could they serve to draw my
attention from the severe fit of sickness which possessed me. Towards
the end of the first march I was not able to sit upon the donkey's back;
nor would it do, when but a third of the way across the wilderness, to
halt until the next day; soldiers were therefore detailed to carry me in
a hammock, and, when the terekeza was performed in the afternoon, I lay
in a lethargic state, unconscious of all things. With the night passed
the fever, and, at 3 o'clock in the morning, when the march was resumed,
I was booted and spurred, and the recognized mtongi of my caravan once
more. At 8 A.M. we had performed the thirty-two miles. The wilderness
of Marenga Mkali had been passed and we had entered Ugogo, which was at
once a dreaded land to my caravan, and a Land of Promise to myself.

The transition from the wilderness into this Promised Land was very
gradual and easy. Very slowly the jungle thinned, the cleared land was
a long time appearing, and when it had finally appeared, there were no
signs of cultivation until we could clearly make out the herbage and
vegetation on some hill slopes to our right running parallel with
our route, then we saw timber on the hills, and broad acreage under
cultivation--and, lo! as we ascended a wave of reddish earth covered
with tall weeds and cane, but a few feet from us, and directly across
our path, were the fields of matama and grain we had been looking for,
and Ugogo had been entered an hour before.

The view was not such as I expected. I had imagined a plateau several
hundred feet higher than Marenga Mkali, and an expansive view which
should reveal Ugogo and its characteristics at once. But instead, while
travelling from the tall weeds which covered the clearing which had
preceded the cultivated parts, we had entered into the depths of the
taller matama stalks, and, excepting some distant hills near Mvumi,
where the Great Sultan lived--the first of the tribe to whom we should
pay tribute--the view was extremely limited.

However, in the neighbourhood of the first village a glimpse at some
of the peculiar features of Ugogo was obtained, and there was a vast
plain--now flat, now heaving upwards, here level as a table, there
tilted up into rugged knolls bristling with scores of rough boulders of
immense size, which lay piled one above another as if the children of a
Titanic race had been playing at house-building. Indeed, these piles of
rounded, angular, and riven rock formed miniature hills of themselves;
and appeared as if each body had been ejected upwards by some violent
agency beneath. There was one of these in particular, near Mvumi, which
was so large, and being slightly obscured from view by the outspreading
branches of a gigantic baobab, bore such a strong resemblance to a
square tower of massive dimensions, that for a long time I cherished
the idea that I had discovered something most interesting which had
strangely escaped the notice of my predecessors in East Africa. A nearer
view dispelled the illusion, and proved it to be a huge cube of rock,
measuring about forty feet each way. The baobabs were also particularly
conspicuous on this scene, no other kind of tree being visible in the
cultivated parts. These had probably been left for two reasons: first,
want of proper axes for felling trees of such enormous growth; secondly,
because during a famine the fruit of the baobab furnishes a flour which,
in the absence of anything better, is said to be eatable and nourishing.

The first words I heard in Ugogo were from a Wagogo elder, of sturdy
form, who in an indolent way tended the flocks, but showed a marked
interest in the stranger clad in white flannels, with a Hawkes' patent
cork solar topee on his head, a most unusual thing in Ugogo, who came
walking past him, and there were "Yambo, Musungu, Yambo, bana, bana,"
delivered with a voice loud enough to make itself heard a full mile
away. No sooner had the greeting been delivered than the word "Musungu"
seemed to electrify his entire village; and the people of other
villages, situated at intervals near the road, noting the excitement
that reigned at the first, also participated in the general frenzy which
seemed suddenly to have possessed them. I consider my progress from
the first village to Mvumi to have been most triumphant; for I was
accompanied by a furious mob of men, women, and children, all almost as
naked as Mother Eve when the world first dawned upon her in the garden
of Eden, fighting, quarrelling, jostling, staggering against each other
for the best view of the white man, the like of whom was now seen for
the first time in this part of Ugogo. The cries of admiration, such as
"Hi-le!" which broke often and in confused uproar upon my ear, were not
gratefully accepted, inasmuch as I deemed many of them impertinent. A
respectful silence and more reserved behaviour would have won my
esteem; but, ye powers, who cause etiquette to be observed in Usungu,*
respectful silence, reserved behaviour, and esteem are terms unknown
in savage Ugogo. Hitherto I had compared myself to a merchant of Bagdad
travelling among the Kurds of Kurdistan, selling his wares of Damascus
silk, kefiyehs, &c.; but now I was compelled to lower my standard, and
thought myself not much better than a monkey in a zoological collection.
One of my soldiers requested them to lessen their vociferous noise;
but the evil-minded race ordered him to shut up, as a thing unworthy to
speak to the Wagogo! When I imploringly turned to the Arabs for counsel
in this strait, old Sheikh Thani, always worldly wise, said, "Heed them
not; they are dogs who bite besides barking." -------- *
White man's land. --------

At 9 A.M. we were in our boma, near Mvumi village; but here also crowds
of Wagogo came to catch a glimpse of the Musungu, whose presence was
soon made known throughout the district of Mvumi. But two hours later I
was oblivious of their endeavours to see me; for, despite repeated doses
of quinine, the mukunguru had sure hold of me.

The next day was a march of eight miles, from East Mvumi to West Mvumi,
where lived the Sultan of the district. The quantity and variety
of provisions which arrived at our boma did not belie the reports
respecting the productions of Ugogo. Milk, sour and sweet, honey, beans,
matama, maweri, Indian corn, ghee, pea-nuts, and a species of bean-nut
very like a large pistachio or an almond, water-melons, pumpkins,
mush-melons, and cucumbers were brought, and readily exchanged for
Merikani, Kaniki, and for the white Merikani beads and Sami-Sami, or
Sam-Sam. The trade and barter which progressed in the camp from morning
till night reminded me of the customs existing among the Gallas and
Abyssinians. Eastward, caravans were obliged to despatch men with cloth,
to purchase from the villagers. This was unnecessary in Ugogo, where the
people voluntarily brought every vendible they possessed to the camp.
The smallest breadth of white or blue cloth became saleable and useful
in purchasing provisions--even a loin-cloth worn threadbare.

The day after our march was a halt. We had fixed this day for bearing
the tribute to the Great Sultan of Mvumi. Prudent and cautious Sheikh
Thani early began this important duty, the omission of which would have
been a signal for war. Hamed and Thani sent two faithful slaves, well
up to the eccentricities of the Wagogo sultans--well spoken, having glib
tongues and the real instinct for trade as carried on amongst
Orientals. They bore six doti of cloths, viz., one doti of Dabwani
Ulyah contributed by myself, also one doti of Barsati from me, two doti
Merikani Satine from Sheikh Thani, and two doti of Kaniki from Sheikh
Hamed, as a first instalment of the tribute. The slaves were absent a
full hour, but having wasted their powers of pleading, in vain, they
returned with the demand for more, which Sheikh Thani communicated to me
in this wise:

"Auf! this Sultan is a very bad man--a very bad man indeed; he says, the
Musungu is a great man, I call him a sultan; the Musungu is very rich,
for he has several caravans already gone past; the Musungu must pay
forty doti, and the Arabs must pay twelve doti each, for they have rich
caravans. It is of no use for you to tell me you are all one caravan,
otherwise why so many flags and tents? Go and bring me sixty doti, with
less I will not be satisfied."

I suggested to Sheikh Thani, upon hearing this exorbitant demand, that
had I twenty Wasungu* armed with Winchester repeating rifles, the Sultan
might be obliged to pay tribute to me; but Thani prayed and begged me to
be cautious lest angry words might irritate the Sultan and cause him to
demand a double tribute, as he was quite capable of doing so; "and if
you preferred war," said he, "your pagazis would all desert, and leave
you and your cloth to the small mercy of the Wagogo." But I hastened to
allay his fears by telling Bombay, in his presence, that I had foreseen
such demands on the part of the Wagogo, and that having set aside one
hundred and twenty doti of honga cloths, I should not consider myself a
sufferer if the Sultan demanded and I paid forty cloths to him; that he
must therefore open the honga bale, and permit Sheikh Thani to extract
such cloths as the Sultan might like.

Sheikh Thani, having put on the cap of consideration and joined heads
with Hamed and the faithful serviles, thought if I paid twelve doti,
out of which three should be of Ulyah+ quality, that the Sultan might
possibly condescend to accept our tribute; supposing he was persuaded
by the oratorical words of the "Faithfuls," that the Musungu had nothing
with him but the mashiwa (boat), which would be of no use to him, come
what might,--with which prudent suggestion the Musungu concurred, seeing
its wisdom.

     * White men.

     + Best, or superior.

The slaves departed, bearing this time from our boma thirty doti, with
our best wishes for their success. In an hour they returned with empty
hands, but yet unsuccessful. The Sultan demanded six doti of Merikani,
and a fundo of bubu, from the Musungu; and from the Arabs and other
caravans, twelve doti more. For the third time the slaves departed for
the Sultan's tembe, carrying with them six doti Merikani and a fundo of
bubu from myself, and ten doti from the Arabs. Again they returned to
us with the Sultan's words, "That, as the doti of the Musungu were short
measure, and the cloths of the Arabs of miserable quality, the Musungu
must send three doti full measure, and the Arabs five doti of
Kaniki." My three doti were at once measured out with the longest
fore-arm--according to Kigogo measure--and sent off by Bombay; but the
Arabs, almost in despair, declared they would be ruined if they gave way
to such demands, and out of the five doti demanded sent only two, with a
pleading to the Sultan that he would consider what was paid as just and
fair Muhongo, and not ask any more. But the Sultan of Mvumi was by no
means disposed to consider any such proposition, but declared he must
have three doti, and these to be two of Ulyah cloth, and one Kitambi
Barsati, which, as he was determined to obtain, were sent to him heavy
with the deep maledictions of Sheikh Hamed and the despairing sighs of
sheikh Thani.

Altogether the sultanship of a district in Ugogo must be very
remunerative, besides being a delightful sinecure, so long as the Sultan
has to deal with timid Arab merchants who fear to exhibit anything
approaching to independence and self-reliance, lest they might
be mulcted in cloth. In one day from one camp the sultan received
forty-seven doti, consisting of Merikani, Kaniki, Barsati, and Dabwani,
equal to $35.25, besides seven doti of superior cloths, consisting of
Rehani, Sohari, and Daobwani Ulyah, and one fundo of Bubu, equal to
$14.00, making a total of $49.25--a most handsome revenue for a Mgogo
chief.

On the 27th May we gladly shook the dust of Mvumi from our feet, and
continued on our route--ever westward. Five of my donkeys had died the
night before, from the effects of the water of Marenga Mkali. Before
leaving the camp of Mvumi, I went to look at their carcases; but found
them to have been clean picked by the hyaenas, and the bones taken
possession of by an army of white-necked crows.

As we passed the numerous villages, and perceived the entire face of
the land to be one vast field of grain, and counted the people halted
by scores on the roadside to feast their eyes with a greedy stare on the
Musungu, I no longer wondered at the extortionate demands of the Wagogo.
For it was manifest that they had but to stretch out their hands to
possess whatever the wealth of a caravan consisted of; and I began to
think better of the people who, knowing well their strength, did not
use it--of people who were intellectual enough to comprehend that their
interest lay in permitting the caravans to pass on without attempting
any outrage.

Between Mvumi and the nest Sultan's district, that of Matamburu, I
counted no less than twenty-five villages, scattered over the clayey,
coloured plain. Despite the inhospitable nature of the plain, it was
better cultivated than any part of any other country we had seen since
leaving Bagamoyo.

When we had at last arrived at our boma of Matamburu, the same groups of
curious people, the same eager looks, the same exclamations of surprise,
the same, peals of laughter, at something they deemed ludicrous in the
Musungu's dress or manner, awaited us, as at Mvumi. The Arabs being
"Wakonongo" travellers, whom they saw every day, enjoyed a complete
immunity from the vexations which we had to endure.

The Sultan of Matamburu, a man of herculean form, and massive head well
set on shoulders that might vie with those of Milo, proved to be a very
reasonable person. Not quite so powerful as the Sultan of Mvumi, he yet
owned a fair share of Ugogo and about forty villages, and could, if he
chose, have oppressed the mercantile souls of my Arab companions, in
the same way as he of Mvumi. Four doti of cloth were taken to him as a
preliminary offering to his greatness, which he said he would accept, if
the Arabs and Musungu would send him four more. As his demands were
so reasonable, this little affair was soon terminated to everybody's
satisfaction; and soon after, the kirangozi of Sheikh Hamed sounded the
signal for the morrow's march.

At the orders of the same Sheikh, the kirangozi stood up to speak before
the assembled caravans. "Words, words, from the Bana," he shouted.
"Give ear, kirangozis! Listen, children of Unyamwezi! The journey is for
to-morrow! The road is crooked and bad, bad! The jungle is there, and
many Wagogo lie hidden within it! Wagogo spear the pagazis, and cut
the throats of those who carry mutumba (bales) and ushanga (beads)! The
Wagogo have been to our camp, they have seen your bales; to-night
they seek the jungle: to-morrow watch well, O Wanyamwezi! Keep close
together, lag not behind! Kirangozis walk slow, that the weak, the
sick, and the young may keep up with the strong! Take two rests on the
journey! These are the words of the Bana (master). Do you hear
them, Wanyamwezi? (A loud shout in the affirmative from all.) Do you
understand them well? (another chorus); then Bas;" having said which,
the eloquent kirangozi retired into the dark night, and his straw hut.

The march to Bihawana, our next camp, was rugged and long, through a
continuous jungle of gums and thorns, up steep hills and finally over a
fervid plain, while the sun waxed hotter and hotter as it drew near the
meridian, until it seemed to scorch all vitality from inanimate nature,
while the view was one white blaze, unbearable to the pained sight,
which sought relief from the glare in vain. Several sandy watercourses,
on which were impressed many a trail of elephants, were also passed on
this march. The slope of these stream-beds trended south-east and south.

In the middle of this scorching plain stood the villages of Bihawana,
almost undistinguishable, from the extreme lowness of the huts, which
did not reach the height of the tall bleached grass which stood smoking
in the untempered heat.

Our camp was in a large boma, about a quarter of a mile from the
Sultan's tembe. Soon after arriving at the camp, I was visited by three
Wagogo, who asked me if I had seen a Mgogo on the road with a woman
and child. I was about to answer, very innocently, "Yes," when
Mabruki--cautious and watchful always for the interests of the
master--requested me not to answer, as the Wagogo, as customary, would
charge me with having done away with them, and would require their price
from me. Indignant at the imposition they were about to practise upon
me, I was about to raise my whip to flog them out of the camp, when
again Mabruki, with a roaring voice, bade me beware, for every blow
would cost me three or four doti of cloth. As I did not care to gratify
my anger at such an expense, I was compelled to swallow my wrath, and
consequently the Wagogo escaped chastisement.

We halted for one day at this place, which was a great relief to me, as
I was suffering severely from intermittent fever, which lasted in this
case two weeks, and entirely prevented my posting my diary in full, as
was my custom every evening after a march.

The Sultan of Bihawana, though his subjects were evil-disposed, and
ready-handed at theft and murder, contented himself with three doti as
honga. From this chief I received news of my fourth caravan, which had
distinguished itself in a fight with some outlawed subjects of his; my
soldiers had killed two who had attempted, after waylaying a couple of
my pagazis, to carry away a bale of cloth and a bag of beads; coming
up in time, the soldiers decisively frustrated the attempt. The Sultan
thought that if all caravans were as well guarded as mine were, there
would be less depredations committed on them while on the road; with
which I heartily agreed.

The next sultan's tembe through whose territory we marched, this being
on the 30th May, was at Kididimo, but four miles from Bihawna. The road
led through a flat elongated plain, lying between two lengthy hilly
ridges, thickly dotted with the giant forms of the baobab. Kididimo is
exceedingly bleak in aspect. Even the faces of the Wagogo seemed to have
contracted a bleak hue from the general bleakness around. The water of
the pits obtained in the neighbourhood had an execrable flavor, and two
donkeys sickened and died in less than an hour from its effects.
Man suffered nausea and a general irritability of the system, and
accordingly revenged himself by cursing the country and its imbecile
ruler most heartily. The climax came, however, when Bombay reported,
after an attempt to settle the Muhongo, that the chief's head had grown
big since he heard that the Musungu had come, and that its "bigness"
could not be reduced unless he could extract ten doti as tribute. Though
the demand was large, I was not in a humour--being feeble, and almost
nerveless, from repeated attacks of the Mukunguru--to dispute the sum:
consequently it was paid without many words. But the Arabs continued the
whole afternoon negotiating, and at the end had to pay eight doti each.

Between Kididimo and Nyambwa, the district of the Sultan Pembera Pereh,
was a broad and lengthy forest and jungle inhabited by the elephant,
rhinoceros, zebra, deer, antelope, and giraffe. Starting at dawn of
the 31st; we entered the jungle, whose dark lines and bosky banks were
clearly visible from our bower at Kididimo; and, travelling for two
hours, halted for rest and breakfast, at pools of sweet water surrounded
by tracts of vivid green verdure, which were a great resort for the wild
animals of the jungle, whose tracks were numerous and recent. A narrow
nullah, shaded deeply with foliage, afforded excellent retreats from
the glaring sunshine. At meridian, our thirst quenched, our hunger
satisfied, our gourds refilled, we set out from the shade into the
heated blaze of hot noon. The path serpentined in and out of jungle, and
thin forest, into open tracts of grass bleached white as stubble, into
thickets of gums and thorns, which emitted an odour as rank as a stable;
through clumps of wide-spreading mimosa and colonies of baobab, through
a country teeming with noble game, which, though we saw them frequently,
were yet as safe from our rifles as if we had been on the Indian Ocean.
A terekeza, such as we were now making, admits of no delay. Water we
had left behind at noon: until noon of the next day not a drop was to be
obtained; and unless we marched fast and long on this day, raging
thirst would demoralize everybody. So for six long weary hours we toiled
bravely; and at sunset we camped, and still a march of two hours, to be
done before the sun was an hour high, intervened between us and our camp
at Nyambwa. That night the men bivouacked under the trees, surrounded by
many miles of dense forest, enjoying the cool night unprotected by hat
or tent, while I groaned and tossed throughout the night in a paroxysm
of fever.

The morn came; and, while it was yet young, the long caravan, or string
of caravans, was under way. It was the same forest, admitting, on the
narrow line which we threaded, but one man at a time. Its view was as
limited. To our right and left the forest was dark and deep. Above was
a riband of glassy sky flecked by the floating nimbus. We heard nothing
save a few stray notes from a flying bird, or the din of the caravans as
the men sang, or hummed, or conversed, or shouted, as the thought struck
them that we were nearing water. One of my pagazis, wearied and sick,
fell, and never rose again. The last of the caravan passed him before he
died.

At 7 A.M. we were encamped at Nyambwa, drinking the excellent water
found here with the avidity of thirsty camels. Extensive fields of grain
had heralded the neighbourhood of the villages, at the sight of which we
were conscious that the caravan was quickening its pace, as approaching
its halting-place. As the Wasungu drew within the populated area, crowds
of Wagogo used their utmost haste to see them before they passed by.
Young and old of both genders pressed about us in a multitude--a very
howling mob. This excessive demonstrativeness elicited from my sailor
overseer the characteristic remark, "Well, I declare, these must be
the genuine Ugogians, for they stare! stare--there is no end to their
staring. I'm almost tempted to slap 'em in the face!" In fact, the
conduct of the Wagogo of Nyambwa was an exaggeration of the general
conduct of Wagogo. Hitherto, those we had met had contented themselves
with staring and shouting; but these outstepped all bounds, and my
growing anger at their excessive insolence vented itself in gripping
the rowdiest of them by the neck, and before he could recover from his
astonishment administering a sound thrashing with my dog-whip, which he
little relished. This proceeding educed from the tribe of starers all
their native power of vituperation and abuse, in expressing which they
were peculiar. Approaching in manner to angry tom-cats, they jerked
their words with something of a splitting hiss and a half bark. The
ejaculation, as near as I can spell it phonetically, was "hahcht"
uttered in a shrill crescendo tone. They paced backwards and forwards,
asking themselves, "Are the Wagoga to be beaten like slaves by this
Musungu? A Mgogo is a Mgwana (a free man); he is not used to be
beaten,--hahcht." But whenever I made motion, flourishing my whip,
towards them, these mighty braggarts found it convenient to move to
respectable distances from the irritated Musungu.

Perceiving that a little manliness and show of power was something which
the Wagogo long needed, and that in this instance it relieved me from
annoyance, I had recourse to my whip, whose long lash cracked like
a pistol shot, whenever they overstepped moderation. So long as they
continued to confine their obtrusiveness to staring, and communicating
to each other their opinions respecting my complexion, and dress, and
accoutrements, I philosophically resigned myself in silence for their
amusement; but when they pressed on me, barely allowing me to proceed, a
few vigorous and rapid slashes right and left with my serviceable thong,
soon cleared the track.

Pembera Pereh is a queer old man, very small, and would be very
insignificant were he not the greatest sultan in Ugogo; and enjoying a
sort of dimediate power over many other tribes. Though such an
important chief, he is the meanest dressed of his subjects,--is always
filthy,--ever greasy--eternally foul about the mouth; but these are mere
eccentricities: as a wise judge, he is without parallel, always has a
dodge ever ready for the abstraction of cloth from the spiritless Arab
merchants, who trade with Unyanyembe every year; and disposes with ease
of a judicial case which would overtask ordinary men.

Sheikh Hamed, who was elected guider of the united caravans now
travelling through Ugogo, was of such a fragile and small make, that he
might be taken for an imitation of his famous prototype "Dapper." Being
of such dimensions, what he lacked for weight and size he made up by
activity. No sooner had he arrived in camp than his trim dapper form
was seen frisking about from side to side of the great boma, fidgeting,
arranging, disturbing everything and everybody. He permitted no bales
or packs to be intermingled, or to come into too close proximity to his
own; he had a favourite mode of stacking his goods, which he would see
carried out; he had a special eye for the best place for his tent, and
no one else must trespass on that ground. One would imagine that walking
ten or fifteen miles a day, he would leave such trivialities to his
servants, but no, nothing could be right unless he had personally
superintended it; in which work he was tireless and knew no fatigue.

Another not uncommon peculiarity pertained to Sheikh Hamed; as he was
not a rich man, he laboured hard to make the most of every shukka
and doti expended, and each fresh expenditure seemed to gnaw his very
vitals: he was ready to weep, as he himself expressed it, at the high
prices of Ugogo, and the extortionate demands of its sultans. For this
reason, being the leader of the caravans, so far as he was able we were
very sure not to be delayed in Ugogo, where food was so dear.

The day we arrived at Nyambwa will be remembered by Hamed as long as he
lives, for the trouble and vexation which he suffered. His misfortunes
arose from the fact that, being too busily engaged in fidgeting about
the camp, he permitted his donkeys to stray into the matama fields of
Pembera Pereh, the Sultan. For hours he and his servants sought for the
stray donkeys, returning towards evening utterly unsuccessful, Hamed
bewailing, as only an Oriental can do, when hard fate visits him with
its inflictions, the loss of a hundred do dollars worth of Muscat
donkeys. Sheikh Thani, older, more experienced, and wiser, suggested
to him that he should notify the Sultan of his loss. Acting upon
the sagacious advice, Hamed sent an embassy of two slaves, and the
information they brought back was, that Pembera Pereh's servants had
found the two donkeys eating the unripened matama, and that unless
the Arab who owned them would pay nine doti of first-class cloths, he,
Pembera Pereh, would surely keep them to remunerate him for the matama
they had eaten. Hamed was in despair. Nine doti of first-class cloths,
worth $25 in Unyanyembe, for half a chukka's worth of grain, was, as
he thought, an absurd demand; but then if he did not pay it, what would
become of the hundred dollars' worth of donkeys? He proceeded to the
Sultan to show him the absurdity of the damage claim, and to endeavour
to make him accept one chukka, which would be more than double the worth
of what grain the donkeys had consumed. But the Sultan was sitting on
pombe; he was drunk, which I believe to be his normal state--too drunk
to attend to business, consequently his deputy, a renegade Mnyamwezi,
gave ear to the business. With most of the Wagogo chiefs lives a
Mnyamwezi, as their right-hand man, prime minister, counsellor,
executioner, ready man at all things save the general good; a sort of
harlequin Unyamwezi, who is such an intriguing, restless, unsatisfied
person, that as soon as one hears that this kind of man forms one of and
the chief of a Mgogo sultan's council, one feels very much tempted to
do damage to his person. Most of the extortions practised upon the Arabs
are suggested by these crafty renegades. Sheikh Hamed found that the
Mnyamwezi was far more obdurate than the Sultan--nothing under nine
doti first-class cloths would redeem the donkeys. The business that day
remained unsettled, and the night following was, as one may imagine, a
very sleepless one to Hamed. As it turned out, however, the loss of the
donkeys, the after heavy fine, and the sleepless night, proved to be
blessings in disguise; for, towards midnight, a robber Mgogo visited his
camp, and while attempting to steal a bale of cloth, was detected in
the act by the wide-awake and irritated Arab, and was made to vanish
instantly with a bullet whistling in close proximity to his ear.

From each of the principals of the caravans, the Mnyamwezi had received
as tribute for his drunken master fifteen doti, and from the other
six caravans six doti each, altogether fifty-one doti, yet on the next
morning when we took the road he was not a whit disposed to deduct a
single cloth from the fine imposed on Hamed, and the unfortunate Sheikh
was therefore obliged to liquidate the claim, or leave his donkeys
behind.

After travelling through the corn-fields of Pembera Pereh we emerged
upon a broad flat plain, as level as the still surface of a pond, whence
the salt of the Wagogo is obtained. From Kanyenyi on the southern
road, to beyond the confines of Uhumba and Ubanarama, this saline field
extends, containing many large ponds of salt bitter water whose low
banks are covered with an effervescence partaking of the nature of
nitrate. Subsequently, two days afterwards, having ascended the elevated
ridge which separates Ugogo from Uyanzi, I obtained a view of this
immense saline plain, embracing over a hundred square miles. I may
have been deceived, but I imagined I saw large expanses of greyish-blue
water, which causes me to believe that this salina is but a corner of
a great salt lake. The Wahumba, who are numerous, from Nyambwa to the
Uyanzi border, informed my soldiers that there was a "Maji Kuba" away to
the north.

Mizanza, our next camp after Nyambwa, is situated in a grove of palms,
about thirteen miles from the latter place. Soon after arriving I had
to bury myself under blankets, plagued with the same intermittent fever
which first attacked me during the transit of Marenga Mkali. Feeling
certain that one day's halt, which would enable me to take regular doses
of the invaluable sulphate of quinine, would cure me, I requested Sheikh
Thani to tell Hamed to halt on the morrow, as I should be utterly unable
to continue thus long, under repeated attacks of a virulent disease
which was fast reducing me into a mere frame of skin and bone. Hamed, in
a hurry to arrive at Unyanyembe in order to dispose of his cloth before
other caravans appeared in the market, replied at first that he would
not, that he could not, stop for the Musungu. Upon Thani's reporting his
answer to me, I requested him to inform Hamed that, as the Musungu did
not wish to detain him, or any other caravan, it was his express wish
that Hamed would march and leave him, as he was quite strong enough in
guns to march through Ugogo alone. Whatever cause modified the Sheikh's
resolution and his anxiety to depart, Hamed's horn signal for the march
was not heard that night, and on the morrow he had not gone.

Early in the morning I commenced on my quinine doses; at 6 A.M. I took
a second dose; before noon I had taken four more--altogether, fifty
measured grains-the effect of which was manifest in the copious
perspiration which drenched flannels, linen, and blankets. After noon I
arose, devoutly thankful that the disease which had clung to me for the
last fourteen days had at last succumbed to quinine.

On this day the lofty tent, and the American flag which ever flew from
the centre pole, attracted the Sultan of Mizanza towards it, and was the
cause of a visit with which he honoured me. As he was notorious among
the Arabs for having assisted Manwa Sera in his war against Sheikh
Sny bin Amer, high eulogies upon whom have been written by Burton, and
subsequently by Speke, and as he was the second most powerful chief in
Ugogo, of course he was quite a curiosity to me. As the tent-door was
uplifted that he might enter, the ancient gentleman was so struck with
astonishment at the lofty apex, and internal arrangements, that the
greasy Barsati cloth which formed his sole and only protection against
the chills of night and the heat of noon, in a fit of abstraction was
permitted to fall down to his feet, exposing to the Musungu's unhallowed
gaze the sad and aged wreck of what must once have been a towering form.
His son, a youth of about fifteen, attentive to the infirmities of his
father, hastened with filial duty to remind him of his condition, upon
which, with an idiotic titter at the incident, he resumed his scanty
apparel and sat down to wonder and gibber out his admiration at the tent
and the strange things which formed the Musungu's personal baggage and
furniture. After gazing in stupid wonder at the table, on which was
placed some crockery and the few books I carried with me; at the slung
hammock, which he believed was suspended by some magical contrivance;
at the portmanteaus which contained my stock of clothes, he ejaculated,
"Hi-le! the Musungu is a great sultan, who has come from his country to
see Ugogo." He then noticed me, and was again wonder-struck at my pale
complexion and straight hair, and the question now propounded was, "How
on earth was I white when the sun had burned his people's skins into
blackness?" Whereupon he was shown my cork topee, which he tried on his
woolly head, much to his own and to our amusement. The guns were next
shown to him; the wonderful repeating rifle of the Winchester Company,
which was fired thirteen times in rapid succession to demonstrate
its remarkable murderous powers. If he was astonished before he was a
thousand times more so now, and expressed his belief that the Wagogo
could not stand before the Musungu in battle, for wherever a Mgogo was
seen such a gun would surely kill him. Then the other firearms were
brought forth, each with its peculiar mechanism explained, until, in, a
burst of enthusiasm at my riches and power, he said he would send me a
sheep or goat, and that he would be my brother. I thanked him for the
honour, and promised to accept whatever he was pleased to send me. At
the instigation of Sheikh Thani, who acted as interpreter, who said that
Wagogo chiefs must not depart with empty hands, I cut off a shukka
of Kaniki and presented it to him, which, after being examined and
measured, was refused upon the ground that, the Musungu being a great
sultan should not demean himself so much as to give him only a shukka.
This, after the twelve doti received as muhongo from the caravans, I
thought, was rather sore; but as he was about to present me with a sheep
or goat another shukka would not matter much.

Shortly after he departed, and true to his promise, I received a large,
fine sheep, with a broad tail, heavy with fat; but with the words: "That
being now his brother, I must send him three doti of good cloth." As the
price of a sheep is but a doti and a half, I refused the sheep and the
fraternal honour, upon the ground that the gifts were all on one side;
and that, as I had paid muhongo, and given him a doti of Kaniki as a
present, I could not, afford to part with any more cloth without an
adequate return.

During the afternoon one more of my donkeys died, and at night the
hyaenas came in great numbers to feast upon the carcase. Ulimengo,
the chasseur, and best shot of my Wangwana, stole out and succeeded in
shooting two, which turned out to be some of the largest of their kind..
One of them measured six feet from the tip of the nose to the extremity
of the tail, and three feet around the girth.

On the 4th. June we struck camp, and after travelling westward for about
three miles, passing several ponds of salt water, we headed north by
west, skirting the range of low hills which separates Ugogo from Uyanzi.

After a three hours' march, we halted for a short time at Little
Mukondoku, to settle tribute with the brother of him who rules at
Mukondoku Proper. Three doti satisfied the Sultan, whose district
contains but two villages, mostly occupied by pastoral Wahumba and
renegade Wahehe. The Wahumba live in plastered (cow-dung) cone huts,
shaped like the tartar tents of Turkestan.

The Wahumba, so far as I have seen them, are a fine and well-formed
race. The men are positively handsome, tall, with small heads, the
posterior parts of which project considerably. One will look in vain for
a thick lip or a flat nose amongst them; on the contrary, the mouth is
exceedingly well cut, delicately small; the nose is that of the Greeks,
and so universal was the peculiar feature, that I at once named them the
Greeks of Africa. Their lower limbs have not the heaviness of the
Wagogo and other tribes, but are long and shapely, clean as those of an
antelope. Their necks are long and slender, on which their small heads
are poised most gracefully. Athletes from their youth, shepherd bred,
and intermarrying among themselves, thus keeping the race pure, any
of them would form a fit subject for the sculptor who would wish to
immortalize in marble an Antinous, a Hylas, a Daphnis, or an Apollo.
The women are as beautiful as the men are handsome. They have clear ebon
skins, not coal-black, but of an inky hue. Their ornaments consist of
spiral rings of brass pendent from the ears, brass ring collars about
the necks, and a spiral cincture of brass wire about their loins for the
purpose of retaining their calf and goat skins, which are folded about
their bodies, and, depending from the shoulder, shade one half of the
bosom, and fall to the knees.

The Wahehe may be styled the Romans of Africa. Resuming our march, after
a halt of an hour, in foul hours more we arrived at Mukondoku Proper.
This extremity of Ugogo is most populous, The villages which surround
the central tembe, where the Sultan Swaruru lives, amount to thirty-six.
The people who flocked from these to see the wonderful men whose faces
were white, who wore the most wonderful things on their persons, and
possessed the most wonderful weapons; guns which "bum-bummed" as fast as
you could count on your fingers, formed such a mob of howling savages,
that I for an instant thought there was something besides mere curiosity
which caused such commotion, and attracted such numbers to the roadside.
Halting, I asked what was the matter, and what they wanted, and why they
made such noise? One burly rascal, taking my words for a declaration of
hostilities, promptly drew his bow, but as prompt as he had fixed his
arrow my faithful Winchester with thirteen shots in the magazine was
ready and at the shoulder, and but waited to see the arrow fly to pour
the leaden messengers of death into the crowd. But the crowd vanished as
quickly as they had come, leaving the burly Thersites, and two or three
irresolute fellows of his tribe, standing within pistol range of my
levelled rifle. Such a sudden dispersion of the mob which, but a moment
before, was overwhelming in numbers, caused me to lower my rifle, and
to indulge in a hearty laugh at the disgraceful flight of the
men-destroyers. The Arabs, who were as much alarmed at their boisterous
obtrusiveness, now came up to patch a truce, in which they succeeded to
everybody's satisfaction. A few words of explanation, and the mob came
back in greater numbers than before; and the Thersites who had been the
cause of the momentary disturbance was obliged to retire abashed before
the pressure of public opinion. A chief now came up, whom I afterwards
learned was the second man to Swaruru, and lectured the people upon
their treatment of the "White Stranger."

"Know ye not, Wagogo," shouted he, "that this Musungu is a sultan
(mtemi--a most high title). He has not come to Ugogo like the Wakonongo
(Arabs), to trade in ivory, but to see us, and give presents. Why do you
molest him and his people? Let them pass in peace. If you wish to see
him, draw near, but do not mock him. The first of you who creates a
disturbance, let him beware; our great mtemi shall know how you treat
his friends." This little bit of oratorical effort on the part of the
chief was translated to me there and then by the old Sheik Thani; which
having understood, I bade the Sheikh inform the chief that, after I had
rested, I should like him to visit me in my tent.

Having arrived at the khambi, which always surrounds some great baobab
in Ugogo, at the distance of about half a mile from the tembe of the
Sultan, the Wagogo pressed in such great numbers to the camp that Sheikh
Thani resolved to make an effort to stop or mitigate the nuisance.
Dressing himself in his best clothes, he went to appeal to the Sultan
for protection against his people. The Sultan was very much inebriated,
and was pleased to say, "What is it you want, you thief? You have come
to steal my ivory or my cloth. Go away, thief!" But the sensible
chief, whose voice had just been heard reproaching the people for their
treatment of the Wasungu, beckoned to Thani to come out of the tembe,
and then proceeded with him towards the khambi.

The camp was in a great uproar; the curious Wagogo monopolized almost
every foot of ground; there was no room to turn anywhere. The Wanyamwezi
were quarreling with the Wagogo, the Wasawahili servants were clamoring
loud that the Wagogo pressed down their tents, and that the property
of the masters was in danger; while I, busy on my diary within my tent,
cared not how great was the noise and confusion outside as long as it
confined itself to the Wagogo, Wanyamwezi, and Wangwana.

The presence of the chief in the camp was followed by a deep silence
that I was prevailed upon to go outside to see what had caused it. The
chief's words were few, and to the point. He said, "To your tembes,
Wagogo--to your tembes! Why, do you come to trouble the Wakonongo: What
have you to do with them? To your tembes: go! Each Mgogo found in the
khambi without meal, without cattle to sell, shall pay to the mtemi
cloth or cows. Away with you!" Saying which, he snatched up a stick and
drove the hundreds out of the khambi, who were as obedient to him as so
many children. During the two days we halted at Mukondoku we saw no more
of the mob, and there was peace.

The muhongo of the Sultan Swaruru was settled with few words. The chief
who acted for the Sultan as his prime minister having been "made glad"
with a doti of Rehani Ulyah from me, accepted the usual tribute of six
doti, only one of which was of first-class cloth.

There remained but one more sultan to whom muhongo must be paid after
Mukondoku, and this was the Sultan of Kiwyeh, whose reputation was so
bad that owners of property who had control over their pagazis seldom
passed by Kiwyeh, preferring the hardships of long marches through
the wilderness to the rudeness and exorbitant demands of the chief of
Kiwyeh. But the pagazis, on whom no burden or responsibility fell save
that of carrying their loads, who could use their legs and show clean
heels in the case of a hostile outbreak, preferred the march to Kiwyeh
to enduring thirst and the fatigue of a terekeza. Often the preference
of the pagazis won the day, when their employers were timid, irresolute
men, like Sheikh Hamed.

The 7th of June was the day fixed for our departure from Mukondoku, so
the day before, the Arabs came to my tent to counsel with me as to
the route we should adopt. On calling together the kirangozis of the
respective caravans and veteran Wanyamwezi pagazis, we learned there
were three roads leading from Mukondoku to Uyanzi. The first was the
southern road, and the one generally adopted, for the reasons already
stated, and led by Kiwyeh. To this Hamed raised objections. "The Sultan
was bad," he said; "he sometimes charged a caravan twenty doti; our
caravan would have to pay about sixty doti. The Kiwyeh road would not do
at all. Besides," he added, "we have to make a terekeza to reach Kiwyeh,
and then we will not reach it before the day after to-morrow." The
second was the central road. We should arrive at Munieka on the morrow;
the day after would be a terekeza from Mabunguru Nullah to a camp near
Unyambogi; two hours the next day would bring us to Kiti, where there
was plenty of water and food. As neither of the kirangozis or Arabs
knew this road, and its description came from one of my ancient pagazis,
Hamed said he did not like to trust the guidance of such a large caravan
in the hands of an old Mnyamwezi, and would therefore prefer to hear
about the third road, before rendering his decision. The third road was
the northern. It led past numerous villages of the Wagogo for the first
two hours; then we should strike a jungle; and a three hours' march
would then bring us to Simbo, where there was water, but no village.
Starting early next morning, we would travel six hours when we would
arrive at a pool of water. Here taking a short rest, an afternoon march
of five hours would bring us within three hours of another village. As
this last road was known to many, Hamed said, "Sheikh Thani, tell the
Sahib that I think this is the best road." Sheikh Thani was told, after
he had informed me that, as I had marched with them through Ugogo, if
they decided upon going by Simbo, my caravan would follow.

Immediately after the discussion among the principals respecting the
merits of the several routes, arose a discussion among the pagazis which
resulted in an obstinate clamor against the Simbo road, for its long
terekeza and scant prospects of water, the dislike to the Simbo road
communicated itself to all the caravans, and soon it was magnified by
reports of a wilderness reaching from Simbo to Kusuri, where there was
neither food nor water to be obtained. Hamed's pagazis, and those of
the Arab servants, rose in a body and declared they could not go on that
march, and if Hamed insisted upon adopting it they would put their packs
down and leave him to carry them himself.

Hamed Kimiani, as he was styled by the Arabs, rushed up to Sheikh Thani,
and declared that he must take the Kiwyeh road, otherwise his pagazis
would all desert. Thani replied that all the roads were the same to him,
that wherever Hamed chose to go, he would follow. They then came to my
tent, and informed me of the determination at which the Wanyamwezi had
arrived. Calling my veteran Mnyamwezi, who had given me the favourable
report once more to my tent, I bade him give a correct account of the
Kiti road. It was so favourable that my reply to Hamed was, that I
was the master of my caravan, that it was to go wherever I told the
kirangozi, not where the pagazis chose; that when I told them to halt
they must halt, and when I commanded a march, a march should be made;
and that as I fed them well and did not overwork them, I should like to
see the pagazi or soldier that disobeyed me. "You made up your mind just
now that you would take the Simbo road, and we were agreed upon it, now
your pagazis say they will take, the Kiwyeh road, or desert. Go on the
Kiwyeh road and pay twenty doti muhongo. I and my caravan to-morrow
morning will take the Kiti road, and when you find me in Unyanyembe one
day ahead of you, you will be sorry you did not take the same road."

This resolution of mine had the effect of again changing the current of
Hamed's thoughts, for he instantly said, "That is the best road after
all, and as the Sahib is determined to go on it, and we have all
travelled together through the bad land of the Wagogo, Inshallah! let us
all go the same way," and Thani=-good old man--not objecting, and Hamed
having decided, they both joyfully went out of the tent to communicate
the news.

On the 7th the caravans--apparently unanimous that the Kiti road was to
be taken--were led as usual by Hamed's kirangozi. We had barely gone a
mile before I perceived that we had left the Simbo road, had taken the
direction of Kiti, and, by a cunning detour, were now fast approaching
the defile of the mountain ridge before us, which admitted access to the
higher plateau of Kiwyeh. Instantly halting my caravan, I summoned the
veteran who had travelled by Kiti, and asked him whether we were not
going towards Kiwyeh. He replied that we were. Calling my pagazis
together, I bade Bombay tell them that the Musuugu never changed his
mind; that as I had said my caravan should march by Kiti; to Kiti it
must go whether the Arabs followed or not. I then ordered the veteran
to take up his load and show the kirangozi the proper road to Kiti.
The Wanyamwezi pagazis put down their bales, and then there was every
indication of a mutiny. The Wangwana soldiers were next ordered to load
their guns and to flank the caravan, and shoot the first pagazis
who made an attempt to run away. Dismounting, I seized my whip, and,
advancing towards the first pagazi who had put down his load, I motioned
to him to take up his load and march. It was unnecessary to proceed
further; without an exception, all marched away obediently after the
kirangozi. I was about bidding farewell to Thani, and Hamed, when Thani
said, "Stop a bit, Sahib; I have had enough of this child's play; I come
with you," and his caravan was turned after mine. Hamed's caravan was by
this time close to the defile, and he himself was a full mile behind
it, weeping like a child at what he was pleased to call our desertion of
him. Pitying his strait--for he was almost beside himself as thoughts
of Kiwyeh's sultan, his extortion and rudeness, swept across his mind--I
advised him to run after his caravan, and tell it, as all the rest had
taken the other road, to think of the Sultan of Kiwyeh. Before reaching
the Kiti defile I was aware that Hamed's caravan was following us.

The ascent of the ridge was rugged and steep, thorns of the prickliest
nature punished us severely, the _acacia horrida_ was here more horrid
than usual, the gums stretched out their branches, and entangled the
loads, the mimosa with its umbrella-like top served to shade us from the
sun, but impeded a rapid advance. Steep outcrops of syenite and granite,
worn smooth by many feet, had to be climbed over, rugged terraces of
earth and rock had to be ascended, and distant shots resounding through
the forest added to the alarm and general discontent, and had I not
been immediately behind my caravan, watchful of every manoeuvre, my
Wanyamwezi had deserted to a man. Though the height we ascended was
barely 800 feet above the salina we had just left, the ascent occupied
two hours.

Having surmounted the plateau and the worst difficulties, we had a fair
road comparatively, which ran through jungle, forest, and small open
tracts, which in three hours more brought us to Munieka, a small
village, surrounded by a clearing richly cultivated by a colony of
subjects of Swaruru of Mukondoku.

By the time we had arrived at camp everybody had recovered his good
humour and content except Hamed. Thani's men happened to set his tent
too close to Hamed's tree, around which his bales were stacked. Whether
the little Sheikh imagined honest old Thani capable of stealing one is
not known, but it is certain that he stormed and raved about the near
neighbourhood of his best friend's tent, until Thani ordered its removal
a hundred yards off. This proceeding even, it seems, did not satisfy
Hamed, for it was quite midnight--as Thani said--when Hamed came, and
kissing his hands and feet, on his knees implored forgiveness, which of
course Thani, being the soul of good-nature, and as large-hearted as any
man, willingly gave. Hamed was not satisfied, however, until, with the
aid of his slaves, he had transported his friend's tent to where it had
at first been pitched.

The water at Munieka was obtained from a deep depression in a hump of
syenite, and was as clear as crystal, and' cold as ice-water--a luxury
we had not experienced since leaving Simbamwenni.

We were now on the borders of Uyanzi, or, as it is better known,
"Magunda Mkali "--the Hot-ground, or Hot-field. We had passed the
village populated by Wagogo, and were about to shake the dust of Ugogo
from our feet. We had entered Ugogo full of hopes, believing it a
most pleasant land--a land flowing with milk and honey. We had been
grievously disappointed; it proved to be a land of gall and bitterness,
full of trouble and vexation of spirit, where danger was imminent at
every step--where we were exposed to the caprice of inebriated sultans.
Is it a wonder, then, that all felt happy at such a moment? With the
prospect before us of what was believed by many to be a real wilderness,
our ardor was not abated, but was rather strengthened. The wilderness in
Africa proves to be, in many instances, more friendly than the populated
country. The kirangozi blew his kudu horn much more merrily on this
morning than he was accustomed to do while in Ugogo. We were about to
enter Magunda Mkali. At 9 A.M., three hours after leaving Munieka, and
two hours since we had left the extreme limits of Ugogo, we were halted
at Mabunguru Nullah. The Nullah runs southwesterly after leaving its
source in the chain of hills dividing Ugogo from Magunda Mkali. During
the rainy season it must be nearly impassable, owing to the excessive
slope of its bed. Traces of the force of the torrent are seen in the
syenite and basalt boulders which encumber the course. Their rugged
angles are worn smooth, and deep basins are excavated where the bed is
of the rock, which in the dry season serve as reservoirs. Though the
water contained in them has a slimy and greenish appearance, and is well
populated with frogs, it is by no means unpalatable.

At noon we resumed our march, the Wanyamwezi cheering, shouting, and
singing, the Wangwana soldiers, servants, and pagazis vieing with them
in volume of voice and noise-making the dim forest through which we were
now passing resonant with their voices.

The scenery was much more picturesque than any we had yet seen since
leaving Bagamoyo. The ground rose into grander waves--hills cropped out
here and there--great castles of syenite appeared, giving a strange and
weird appearance to the forest. From a distance it would almost seem as
if we were approaching a bit of England as it must have appeared during
feudalism; the rocks assumed such strange fantastic shapes. Now they
were round boulders raised one above another, apparently susceptible to
every breath of wind; anon, they towered like blunt-pointed obelisks,
taller than the tallest trees; again they assumed the shape of mighty
waves, vitrified; here, they were a small heap of fractured and riven
rock; there, they rose to the grandeur of hills.

By 5 P.M. we had travelled twenty miles, and the signal was sounded for
a halt. At 1 A.M., the moon being up, Hamed's horn and voice were heard
throughout the silent camp awaking his pagazis for the march. Evidently
Sheikh Hamed was gone stark mad, otherwise why should he be so frantic
for the march at such an early hour? The dew was falling heavily,
and chilled one like frost; and an ominous murmur of deep discontent
responded to the early call on all sides. Presuming, however, that he
had obtained better information than we had, Sheikh Thani and I resolved
to be governed as the events proved him to be right or wrong.

As all were discontented, this night, march was performed in deep
silence. The thermometer was at 53°, we being about 4,500 feet above the
level of the sea. The pagazis, almost naked, walked quickly in order
to keep warm, and by so doing many a sore foot was made by stumbling
against obtrusive roots and rocks, and treading on thorns. At 3 A.M. we
arrived at the village of Unyambogi, where we threw ourselves down to
rest and sleep until dawn should reveal what else was in store for the
hard-dealt-with caravans.

It was broad daylight when I awoke; the sun was flaring his hot beams in
my face. Sheikh Thani came soon after to inform me that Hamed had gone
to Kiti two hours since; but he, when asked to accompany him, positively
refused, exclaiming against it as folly, and utterly unnecessary. When
my advice was asked by Thani, I voted the whole thing as sheer nonsense;
and, in turn, asked him what a terekeza was for? Was it not an afternoon
march to enable caravans to reach water and food? Thani replied than it
was. I then asked him if there was no water or food to be obtained in
Unyambogi. Thani replied that he had not taken pains to inquire, but
was told by the villagers that there was an abundance of matamia, hindi,
maweri, sheep; goats, and chickens in their village at cheap prices,
such as were not known in Ugogo.

"Well, then," said I, "if Hamed wants to be a fool, and kill his
pagazis, why should we? I have as much cause for haste as Sheikh Hamed;
but Unyanyembe is far yet, and I am not going to endanger my property by
playing the madman."

As Thani had reported, we found an abundance of provisions at the
village, and good sweet water from some pits close by. A sheep cost one
chukka; six chickens were also purchased at that price; six measures of
matama, maweri, or hindi, were procurable for the same sum; in short, we
were coming, at last, into the land of plenty.

On the 10th June we arrived at Kiti after a journey of four hours and a
half, where we found the irrepressible Hamed halted in sore trouble.
He who would be a Caesar, proved to be an irresolute Antony. He had
to sorrow over the death of a favourite slave girl, the loss of five
dish-dashes (Arab shirts), silvered-sleeve and gold-embroidered jackets,
with which he had thought to enter Unyanyembe in state, as became a
merchant of his standing, which had disappeared with three absconding
servants, besides copper trays, rice, and pilau dishes, and two bales of
cloth with runaway Wangwana pagazis. Selim, my Arab servant, asked him,
"What are you doing here, Sheikh Hamed? I thought you were well on the
road to Unyanyembe." Said he, "Could I leave Thani, my friend, behind?"

Kiti abounded in cattle and grain, and we were able to obtain food at
easy rates. The Wakimbu, emigrants from Ukimbu, near Urori, are a quiet
race, preferring the peaceful arts of agriculture to war; of tending
their flocks to conquest. At the least rumor of war they remove their
property and family, and emigrate to the distant wilderness, where they
begin to clear the land, and to hunt the elephant for his ivory. Yet we
found them to be a fine race, and well armed, and seemingly capable,
by their numbers and arms, to compete with any tribe. But here, as
elsewhere, disunion makes them weak. They are mere small colonies, each
colony ruled by its own chief; whereas, were they united, they might
make a very respectable front before an enemy.

Our next destination was Msalalo, distant fifteen miles from Kiti.
Hamed, after vainly searching for his runaways and the valuable property
he had lost, followed us, and tried once more, when he saw us encamped
at Msalalo, to pass us; but his pagazis failed him, the march having
been so long.

Welled Ngaraiso was reached on the 15th, after a three and a half hours'
march. It is a flourishing little place, where provisions were almost
twice as cheap as they were at Unyambogi. Two hours' march south is
Jiweh la Mkoa, on the old road, towards which the road which we have
been travelling since leaving Bagamoyo was now rapidly leading.

Unyanyembe being near, the pagazis and soldiers having behaved
excellently during the lengthy marches we had lately made, I purchased
a bullock for three doti, and had it slaughtered for their special
benefit. I also gave each a khete of red beads to indulge his appetite
for whatever little luxury the country afforded. Milk and honey were
plentiful, and three frasilah of sweet potatoes were bought for a
shukka, equal to about 40 cents of our money.

The 13th June brought us to the last village of Magunda Mkali, in the
district of Jiweh la Singa, after a short march of eight miles and
three-quarters. Kusuri--so called by the Arabs--is called Konsuli by the
Wakimbu who inhabit it. This is, however, but one instance out of many
where the Arabs have misnamed or corrupted the native names of villages
and districts.

Between Ngaraiso and Kusuri we passed the village of Kirurumo, now a
thriving place, with many a thriving village near it. As we passed it,
the people came out to greet the Musungu, whose advent had been so long
heralded by his loud-mouthed caravans, and whose soldiers had helped
them win the day in a battle against their fractious brothers of Jiweh
la Mkoa.

A little further on we came across a large khambi, occupied by Sultan
bin Mohammed, an Omani Arab of high descent, who, as soon as he was
notified of my approach, came out to welcome me, and invite me to his
khambi. As his harem lodged in his tent, of course I was not invited
thither; but a carpet outside was ready for his visitor. After the usual
questions had been asked about my health, the news of the road, the
latest from Zanzibar and Oman, he asked me if I had much cloth with
me. This was a question often asked by owners of down caravans, and
the reason of it is that the Arabs, in their anxiety to make as much
as possible of their cloth at the ivory ports on the Tanganika and
elsewhere, are liable to forget that they should retain a portion for
the down marches. As, indeed, I had but a bale left of the quantity of
cloth retained for provisioning my party on the road, when outfitting my
caravans on the coast, I could unblushingly reply in the negative.

I halted a day at Kusuri to give my caravan a rest, after its long
series of marches, before venturing on the two days' march through the
uninhabited wilderness that separates the district of Jiweh la Singa
Uyanzi from the district of Tura in Unyanyembe. Hamed preceded,
promising to give Sayd bin Salim notice of my coming, and to request him
to provide a tembe for me.

On the 15th, having ascertained that Sheikh Thani would be detained
several days at Kusuri, owing to the excessive number of his people who
were laid up with that dreadful plague of East Africa, the small-pox, I
bade him farewell, and my caravan struck out of Kusuri once more for the
wilderness and the jungle. A little before noon we halted at the Khambi
of Mgongo Tembo, or the Elephant's Back--so called from a wave of rock
whose back, stained into dark brownness by atmospheric influences, is
supposed by the natives to resemble the blue-brown back of this monster
of the forest. My caravan had quite an argument with me here, as to
whether we should make the terekeza on this day or on the next. The
majority was of the opinion that the next day would be the best for
a terekeza; but I, being the "bana," consulting my own interests,
insisted, not without a flourish or two of my whip, that the terekeza
should be made on this day.

Mgongo Tembo, when Burton and Speke passed by, was a promising
settlement, cultivating many a fair acre of ground. But two years ago
war broke out, for some bold act of its people upon caravans, and the
Arabs came from Unyanyembe with their Wangwana servants, attacked them,
burnt the villages, and laid waste the work of years. Since that time
Mgongo Tembo has been but blackened wrecks of houses, and the fields a
sprouting jungle.

A cluster of date palm-trees, overtopping a dense grove close to the
mtoni of Mgongo Tembo, revived my recollections of Egypt. The banks of
the stream, with their verdant foliage, presented a strange contrast to
the brown and dry appearance of the jungle which lay on either side.

At 1 P.M. we resumed our loads and walking staffs, and in a short time
were en route for the Ngwhalah Mtoni, distant eight and three-quarter
miles from the khambi. The sun was hot; like a globe of living, seething
flame, it flared its heat full on our heads; then as it descended
towards the west, scorched the air before it was inhaled by the lungs
which craved it. Gourds of water were emptied speedily to quench the
fierce heat that burned the throat and lungs. One pagazi, stricken
heavily with the small-pox, succumbed, and threw himself down on the
roadside to die. We never saw him afterwards, for the progress of a
caravan on a terekeza, is something like that of a ship in a hurricane.
The caravan must proceed--woe befall him who lags behind, for hunger and
thirst will overtake him--so must a ship drive before the fierce gale to
escape foundering--woe befall him who falls overboard!

An abundance of water, good, sweet, and cool, was found in the bed of
the mtoni in deep stony reservoirs. Here also the traces of furious
torrents were clearly visible as at Mabunguru.

The Nghwhalah commences in Ubanarama to the north--a country famous for
its fine breed of donkeys--and after running south, south-south-west,
crosses the Unyanyembe road, from which point it has more of a westerly
turn.

On the 16th we arrived at Madedita, so called from a village which
was, but is now no more. Madedita is twelve and a half miles from the
Nghwhalah Mtoni. A pool of good water a few hundred yards from the
roadside is the only supply caravans can obtain, nearer than Tura in
Unyamwezi. The tsetse or chufwa-fly, as called by the Wasawahili, stung
us dreadfully, which is a sign that large game visit the pool sometimes,
but must not be mistaken for an indication that there is any in the
immediate neighbourhood of the water. A single pool so often frequented
by passing caravans, which must of necessity halt here, could not be
often visited by the animals of the forest, who are shy in this part of
Africa of the haunts of man.

At dawn the neat day we were on the road striding at a quicker pace
than on most days, since we were about to quit Magunda Mali for the more
populated and better land of Unyamwezi. The forest held its own for
a wearisomely long time, but at the end of two hours it thinned, then
dwarfed into low jungle, and finally vanished altogether, and we
had arrived on the soil of Unyamwezi, with a broad plain, swelling,
subsiding, and receding in lengthy and grand undulations in our front
to one indefinite horizontal line which purpled in the far distance. The
view consisted of fields of grain ripening, which followed the contour
of the plain, and which rustled merrily before the morning breeze that
came laden with the chills of Usagara.

At 8 A.M. we had arrived at the frontier village of Unyamwezi, Eastern
Tura, which we invaded without any regard to the disposition of the few
inhabitants who lived there. Here we found Nondo, a runaway of Speke's,
one of those who had sided with Baraka against Bombay, who, desiring to
engage himself with me, was engaging enough to furnish honey and sherbet
to his former companions, and lastly to the pagazis. It was only a
short breathing pause we made here, having another hour's march to reach
Central Tura.

The road from Eastern Tura led through vast fields of millet, Indian
corn, holcus sorghum, maweri, or panicum, or bajri, as called by
the Arabs; gardens of sweet potatoes, large tracts of cucumbers,
water-melons, mush-melons, and pea-nuts which grew in the deep furrows
between the ridges of the holcus.

Some broad-leafed plantain plants were also seen in the neighbourhood of
the villages, which as we advanced became very numerous. The villages of
the Wakimbu are like those of the Wagogo, square, flat-roofed, enclosing
an open area, which is sometimes divided into three or four parts by
fences or matama stalks.

At central Tura, where we encamped, we had evidence enough of the
rascality of the Wakimbu of Tura. Hamed, who, despite his efforts to
reach Unyanyembe in time to sell his cloths before other Arabs came with
cloth supplies, was unable to compel his pagazis to the double march
every day, was also encamped at Central Tura, together with the Arab
servants who preferred Hamed's imbecile haste to Thani's cautious
advance. Our first night in Unyamwezi was very exciting indeed. The
Musungu's camp was visited by two crawling thieves, but they were soon
made aware by the portentous click of a trigger that the white man's
camp was well guarded.

Hamed's camp was next visited; but here also the restlessness of
the owner frustrated their attempts, for he was pacing backwards and
forwards through his camp, with a loaded gun in his hand; and the
thieves were obliged to relinquish the chance of stealing any of his
bales. From Hamed's they proceeded to Hassan's camp (one of the Arab
servants), where they were successful enough to reach and lay hold of a
couple of bales; but, unfortunately, they made a noise, which awoke the
vigilant and quick-eared slave, who snatched his loaded musket, and in a
moment had shot one of them through the heart. Such were our experiences
of the Wakimbu of Tura.

On the 18th the three caravans, Hamed's, Hassan's, and my own, left Tura
by a road which zig-zagged towards all points through the tall matama
fields. In an hour's time we had passed Tura Perro, or Western Tura, and
had entered the forest again, whence the Wakimbu of Tura obtain their
honey, and where they excavate deep traps for the elephants with which
the forest is said to abound. An hour's march from Western Tura brought
us to a ziwa, or pond. There were two, situated in the midst of a small
open mbuga, or plain, which, even at this late season, was yet soft
from the water which overflows it during the rainy season. After resting
three hours, we started on the terekeza, or afternoon march.

It was one and the same forest that we had entered soon after leaving
Western Tura, that we travelled through until we reached the Kwala
Mtoni, or, as Burton has misnamed it on his map, "Kwale." The water of
this mtoni is contained in large ponds, or deep depressions in the wide
and crooked gully of Kwala. In these ponds a species of mud-fish, was
found, off one of which I made a meal, by no means to be despised by one
who had not tasted fish since leaving Bagamoyo. Probably, if I had my
choice, being, when occasion demands it, rather fastidious in my tastes,
I would not select the mud-fish.

From Tura to the Kwala Mtoni is seventeen and a half miles, a distance
which, however easy it may be traversed once a fortnight, assumes a
prodigious length when one has to travel it almost every other day,
at least, so my pagazis, soldiers, and followers found it, and their
murmurs were very loud when I ordered the signal to be sounded on the
march. Abdul Kader, the tailor who had attached himself to me, as a
man ready-handed at all things, from mending a pair of pants, making
a delicate entremets, or shooting an elephant, but whom the interior
proved to be the weakliest of the weakly, unfit for anything except
eating and drinking---almost succumbed on this march.

Long ago the little stock of goods which Abdul had brought from Zanzibar
folded in a pocket-handkerchief, and with which he was about to buy
ivory and slaves, and make his fortune in the famed land of Unyamwezi,
had disappeared with the great eminent hopes he had built on them, like
those of Alnaschar the unfortunate owner of crockery in the Arabian
tale. He came to me as we prepared for the march, with a most dolorous
tale about his approaching death, which he felt in his bones, and
weary back: his legs would barely hold him up; in short, he had utterly
collapsed--would I take mercy on him, and let him depart? The cause of
this extraordinary request, so unlike the spirit with which he had left
Zanzibar, eager to possess the ivory and slaves of Unyamwezi, was that
on the last long march, two of my donkeys being dead, I had ordered that
the two saddles which they had carried should be Abdul Kader's load
to Unyanyembe. The weight of the saddles was 16 lbs., as the spring
balance-scale indicated, yet Abdul Kader became weary of life, as,
he counted the long marches that intervened between the mtoni and
Unyanyembe. On the ground he fell prone, to kiss my feet, begging me in
the name of God to permit him to depart.

As I had had some experience of Hindoos, Malabarese, and coolies
in Abyssinia, I knew exactly how to deal with a case like this.
Unhesitatingly I granted the request as soon as asked, for as much
tired as Abdul Kader said he was of life, I was with Abdul Kader's
worthlessness. But the Hindi did not want to be left in the jungle, he
said, but, after arriving in Unyanyembe. "Oh," said I, "then you must
reach Unyanyembe first; in the meanwhile you will carry those saddles
there for the food which you must eat."

As the march to Rubuga was eighteen and three-quarter miles, the pagazis
walked fast and long without resting.

Rubuga, in the days of Burton, according to his book, was a prosperous
district. Even when we passed, the evidences of wealth and prosperity
which it possessed formerly, were plain enough in the wide extent of its
grain fields, which stretched to the right and left of the Unyanyembe
road for many a mile. But they were only evidences of what once were
numerous villages, a well-cultivated and populous district, rich in
herds of cattle and stores of grain. All the villages are burnt down,
the people have been driven north three or four days from Rubuga, the
cattle were taken by force, the grain fields were left standing, to be
overgrown with jungle and rank weeds. We passed village after village
that had been burnt, and were mere blackened heaps of charred timber and
smoked clay; field after field of grain ripe years ago was yet standing
in the midst of a crop of gums and thorns, mimosa and kolquall.

We arrived at the village, occupied by about sixty Wangwana, who have
settled here to make a living by buying and selling ivory. Food is
provided for them in the deserted fields of the people of Rubuga. We
were very tired and heated from the long march, but the pagazis had all
arrived by 3 p.m.

At the Wangwana village we met Amer bin Sultan, the very type of an
old Arab sheikh, such as we read of in books, with a snowy beard, and
a clean reverend face, who was returning to Zanzibar after a ten years'
residence in Unyanyembe. He presented me with a goat; and a goatskin
full of rice; a most acceptable gift in a place where a goat costs five
cloths.

After a day's halt at Rubuga, during which I despatched soldiers
to notify Sheikh Sayd bin Salim and Sheikh bin Nasib, the two chief
dignitaries of Unyanyembe, of my coming, on the 21st of June we resumed
the march for Kigwa, distant five hours. The road ran through another
forest similar to that which separated Tura from Rubuga, the country
rapidly sloping as we proceeded westward. Kigwa we found to have been
visited by the same vengeance which rendered Rubuga such a waste.

The next day, after a three and a half hours' rapid march, we crossed
the mtoni--which was no mtoni--separating Kigwa from Unyanyembe
district, and after a short halt to quench our thirst, in three and a
half hours more arrived at Shiza. It was a most delightful march, though
a long one, for its picturesqueness of scenery which every few minutes
was revealed, and the proofs we everywhere saw of the peaceable and
industrious disposition of the people. A short half hour from Shiza we
beheld the undulating plain wherein the Arabs have chosen to situate the
central depot which commands such wide and extensive field of trade. The
lowing of cattle and the bleating of the goats and sheep were everywhere
heard, giving the country a happy, pastoral aspect.

The Sultan of Shiza desired me to celebrate my arrival in Unyanyembe,
with a five-gallon jar of pombe, which he brought for that purpose.

As the pombe was but stale ale in taste, and milk and water in colour,
after drinking a small glassful I passed it to the delighted soldiers
and pagazis. At my request the Sultan brought a fine fat bullock, for
which he accepted four and a half doti of Merikani. The bullock was
immediately slaughtered and served out to the caravan as a farewell
feast.

No one slept much that night, and long before the dawn the fires were
lit, and great steaks were broiling, that their stomachs might rejoice
before parting with the Musungu, whose bounty they had so often tasted.
Six rounds of powder were served to each soldier and pagazi who owned
a gun, to fire away when we should be near the Arab houses. The meanest
pagazi had his best cloth about his loins, and some were exceedingly
brave in gorgeous Ulyah "Coombeesa Poonga" and crimson "Jawah," the
glossy "Rehani," and the neat "Dabwani." The soldiers were mustered in
new tarbooshes, and the long white shirts of the Mrima and the Island.
For this was the great and happy day which had been on our tongues ever
since quitting the coast, for which we had made those noted marches
latterly--one hundred and seventy-eight and a half miles in sixteen
days, including pauses--something over eleven miles a day.

The signal sounded and the caravan was joyfully off with banners flying,
and trumpets and horns blaring. A short two and a half hours' march
brought us within sight of Kwikuru, which is about two miles south of
Tabora, the main Arab town; on the outside of which we saw a long line
of men in clean shirts, whereat we opened our charged batteries, and
fired a volley of small arms such as Kwikuru seldom heard before. The
pagazis closed up and adopted the swagger of veterans: the soldiers
blazed away uninterruptedly, while I, seeing that the Arabs were
advancing towards me, left the ranks, and held out my hand, which was
immediately grasped by Sheikh Sayd bin Salim, and then by about two
dozen people, and thus our entrée into Unyanyembe was effected.



CHAPTER VIII. -- MY LIFE AND TROUBLES DURING MY RESIDENCE IN UNYAS
NYEMBE. I BECOME ENGAGED IN A WAR.


I received a noiseless ovation as I walked side by side with the
governor, Sayd bin Salim, towards his tembe in Kwikuru, or the capital.
The Wanyamwezi pagazis were out by hundreds, the warriors of Mkasiwa,
the sultan, hovered around their chief, the children were seen between
the legs of their parents, even infants, a few months old, slung over
their mothers' backs, all paid the tribute due to my colour, with one
grand concentrated stare. The only persons who talked with me were the
Arabs, and aged Mkasiwa, ruler of Unyanyembe.

Sayd bin Salim's house was at the north-western corner of the inclosure,
a stockaded boma of Kwikuru. We had tea made in a silver tea-pot, and a
bountiful supply of "dampers" were smoking under a silver cover; and
to this repast I was invited. When a man has walked eight miles or so
without any breakfast, and a hot tropical sun has been shining on him
for three or four hours, he is apt to do justice to a meal, especially
if his appetite is healthy. I think I astonished the governor by the
dexterous way in which I managed to consume eleven cups of his aromatic
concoction of an Assam herb, and the easy effortless style with which
I demolished his high tower of "slap jacks," that but a minute or so
smoked hotly under their silver cover.

For the meal, I thanked the Sheikh, as only an earnest and sincerely
hungry man, now satisfied, could thank him. Even if I had not spoken, my
gratified looks had well informed him, under what obligations I had been
laid to him.

Out came my pipe and tobacco-pouch.

"My friendly Sheikh, wilt thou smoke?"

"No, thanks! Arabs never smoke."

"Oh, if you don't, perhaps you would not object to me smoking, in order
to assist digestion?"

"Ngema--good--go on, master."

Then began the questions, the gossipy, curious, serious, light
questions:

"How came the master?

"By the Mpwapwa road."

"It is good. Was the Makata bad?"

"Very bad."

"What news from Zanzibar?"

"Good; Syed Toorkee has possession of Muscat, and Azim bin Ghis was
slain in the streets."

"Is this true, Wallahi?" (by God.)

"It is true."

"Heh-heh-h! This is news!"--stroking his beard.

"Have you heard, master, of Suleiman bin Ali?"

"Yes, the Bombay governor sent him to Zanzibar, in a man-of-war, and
Suleiman bin Ali now lies in the gurayza (fort)."

"Heh, that is very good."

"Did you have to pay much tribute to the Wagogo?"

"Eight times; Hamed Kimiani wished me to go by Kiwyeh, but I declined,
and struck through the forest to Munieka. Hamed and Thani thought it
better to follow me, than brave Kiwyeh by themselves."

"Where is that Hajji Abdullah (Captain Burton) that came here, and
Spiki?" (Speke.)

"Hajji Abdullah! What Hajji Abdullah? Ah! Sheikh Burton we call him. Oh,
he is a great man now; a balyuz (a consul) at El Scham" (Damascus.)

"Heh-heh; balyuz! Heh, at El Scham! Is not that near Betlem el Kuds?"
(Jerusalem.)

"Yes, about four days. Spiki is dead. He shot himself by accident."

"Ah, ah, Wallah (by God), but this is bad news. Spiki dead? Mash-Allah!
Ough, he was a good man--a good man! Dead!"

"But where is this Kazeh, Sheikh Sayd?"

"Kazeh? Kazeh? I never heard the name before."

"But you were with Burton, and Speke, at Kazeh; you lived there several
months, when you were all stopping in Unyanyembe; it must be close here;
somewhere. Where did Hajji Abdullah and Spiki live when they were in
Unyanyembe? Was it not in Musa Mzuri's house?"

"That was in Tabora."

"Well, then, where is Kazeh? I have never seen the man yet who could
tell me where that place is, and yet the three white men have that word
down, as the name of the place they lived at when you were with them.
You must know where it is."

"Wallahi, bana, I never heard the name; but stop, Kazeh, in Kinyamwezi,
means 'kingdom.' Perhaps they gave that name to the place they stopped
at. But then, I used to call the first house Sny bin Amer's house, and
Speke lived at Musa Mzuri's house, but both houses, as well as all the
rest, are in Tabora."

"Thank you, sheikh. I should like to go and look after my people; they
must all be wanting food."

"I shall go with you to show you your house. The tembe is in Kwihara,
only an hour's walk from Tabora."

On leaving Kwikuru we crossed a low ridge, and soon saw Kwihara
lying between two low ranges of hills, the northernmost of which was
terminated westward by the round fortress-like hill of Zimbili. There
was a cold glare of intense sunshine over the valley, probably the
effect of an universal bleakness or an autumnal ripeness of the grass,
unrelieved by any depth of colour to vary the universal sameness. The
hills were bleached, or seemed to be, under that dazzling sunshine,
and clearest atmosphere. The corn had long been cut, and there lay the
stubble, and fields,--a browny-white expanse; the houses were of mud,
and their fiat roofs were of mud, and the mud was of a browny-whiteness;
the huts were thatched, and the stockades around them of barked timber,
and these were of a browny whiteness. The cold, fierce, sickly wind from
the mountains of Usagara sent a deadly chill to our very marrows, yet
the intense sunshiny glare never changed, a black cow or two, or a tall
tree here and there, caught the eye for a moment, but they never made
one forget that the first impression of Kwihara was as of a picture
without colour, or of food without taste; and if one looked up, there
was a sky of a pale blue, spotless, and of an awful serenity.

As I approached the tembe of Sayd bin Salim, Sheikh bin Nasib and other
great Arabs joined us. Before the great door of the tembe the men had
stacked the bales, and piled the boxes, and were using their tongues
at a furious rate, relating to the chiefs and soldiers of the first,
second, and fourth caravans the many events which had befallen them, and
which seemed to them the only things worth relating. Outside of their
own limited circles they evidently cared for nothing. Then the several
chiefs of the other caravans had in turn to relate their experiences
of the road; and the noise of tongues was loud and furious. But as we
approached, all this loud-sounding gabble ceased, and my caravan chiefs
and guides rushed to me to hail me as "master," and to salute me as
their friend. One fellow, faithful Baruti, threw himself at my feet, the
others fired their guns and acted like madmen suddenly become frenzied,
and a general cry of "welcome" was heard on all sides.

"Walk in, master, this is your house, now; here are your men's quarters;
here you will receive the great Arabs, here is the cook-house; here is
the store-house; here is the prison for the refractory; here are
your white man's apartments; and these are your own: see, here is the
bedroom, here is the gun-room, bath-room, &c.;" so Sheikh Sayd talked,
as he showed me the several places.

On my honour, it was a most comfortable place, this, in Central Africa.
One could almost wax poetic, but we will keep such ambitious ideas for
a future day. Just now, however, we must have the goods stored, and the
little army of carriers paid off and disbanded.

Bombay was ordered to unlock the strong store-room, to pile the bales
in regular tiers, the beads in rows one above another, and the wire in
a separate place. The boats, canvas, &c., were to be placed high above
reach of white ants, and the boxes of ammunition and powder kegs were to
be stored in the gun-room, out of reach of danger. Then a bale of cloth
was opened, and each carrier was rewarded according to his merits, that
each of them might proceed home to his friends and neighbours, and tell
them how much better the white man behaved than the Arabs.

The reports of the leaders of the first, second, and fourth caravans
were then received, their separate stores inspected, and the details and
events of their marches heard. The first caravan had been engaged in
a war at Kirurumo, and had come out of the fight successful, and had
reached Unyanyembe without loss of anything. The second had shot a thief
in the forest between Pembera Pereh and Kididimo; the fourth had lost a
bale in the jungle of Marenga Mkali, and the porter who carried it had
received a "very sore head" from a knob stick wielded by one of the
thieves, who prowl about the jungle near the frontier of Ugogo. I was
delighted to find that their misfortunes were no more, and each leader
was then and there rewarded with one handsome cloth, and five doti of
Merikani.

Just as I began to feel hungry again, came several slaves in succession,
bearing trays full of good things from the Arabs; first an enormous dish
of rice, with a bowlful of curried chicken, another with a dozen huge
wheaten cakes, another with a plateful of smoking hot crullers, another
with papaws, another with pomegranates and lemons; after these came
men driving five fat hump backed oxen, eight sheep, and ten goats, and
another man with a dozen chickens, and a dozen fresh eggs. This was
real, practical, noble courtesy, munificent hospitality, which quite
took my gratitude by storm.

My people, now reduced to twenty-five, were as delighted at the prodigal
plenitude visible on my tables and in my yard, as I was myself. And as I
saw their eyes light up at the unctuous anticipations presented to them
by their riotous fancies, I ordered a bullock to be slaughtered and
distributed.

The second day of the arrival of the Expedition in the country which I
now looked upon as classic ground, since Capts. Burton, Speke, and Grant
years ago had visited it, and described it, came the Arab magnates from
Tabora to congratulate me.

Tabora* is the principal Arab settlement in Central Africa. It contains
over a thousand huts and tembes, and one may safely estimate the
population, Arabs, Wangwana, and natives, at five thousand people.
Between Tabora and the next settlement, Kwihara, rise two rugged hill
ridges, separated from each other by a low saddle, over the top of which
Tabora is always visible from Kwihara. ________________ * There is no
such recognised place as Kazeh. ________________

They were a fine, handsome body of men, these Arabs. They mostly hailed
from Oman: others were Wasawahili; and each of my visitors had quite a
retinue with him. At Tabora they live quite luxuriously. The plain on
which the settlement is situated is exceedingly fertile, though naked of
trees; the rich pasturage it furnishes permits them to keep large herds
of cattle and goats, from which they have an ample supply of milk,
cream, butter, and ghee. Rice is grown everywhere; sweet potatoes,
yams, muhogo, holcus sorghum, maize, or Indian corn, sesame, millet,
field-peas, or vetches, called choroko, are cheap, and always
procurable. Around their tembes the Arabs cultivate a little wheat for
their own purposes, and have planted orange, lemon, papaw, and mangoes,
which thrive here fairly well. Onions and garlic, chilies, cucumbers,
tomatoes, and brinjalls, may be procured by the white visitor from the
more important Arabs, who are undoubted epicureans in their way. Their
slaves convey to them from the coast, once a year at least, their stores
of tea, coffee sugar, spices, jellies, curries, wine, brandy, biscuits,
sardines, salmon, and such fine cloths and articles as they require for
their own personal use. Almost every Arab of any eminence is able to
show a wealth of Persian carpets, and most luxurious bedding, complete
tea and coffee-services, and magnificently carved dishes of tinned
copper and brass lavers. Several of them sport gold watches and
chains, mostly all a watch and chain of some kind. And, as in Persia,
Afghanistan, and Turkey, the harems form an essential feature of every
Arab's household; the sensualism of the Mohammedans is as prominent here
as in the Orient.

The Arabs who now stood before the front door of my tembe were the
donors of the good things received the day before. As in duty bound, of
course, I greeted Sheikh Sayd first, then Sheikh bin Nasib, his Highness
of Zanzibar's consul at Karagwa, then I greeted the noblest Trojan
amongst the Arab population, noblest in bearing, noblest in courage and
manly worth--Sheikh Khamis bin Abdullah; then young Amram bin Mussoud,
who is now making war on the king of Urori and his fractious people;
then handsome, courageous Soud, the son of Sayd bin Majid; then
dandified Thani bin Abdullah; then Mussoud bin Abdullah and his cousin
Abdullah bin Mussoud, who own the houses where formerly lived Burton
and Speke; then old Suliman Dowa, Sayd bin Sayf, and the old Hetman of
Tabora--Sheikh Sultan bin Ali.

As the visit of these magnates, under whose loving protection white
travellers must needs submit themselves, was only a formal one, such as
Arab etiquette, ever of the stateliest and truest, impelled them to, it
is unnecessary to relate the discourse on my health, and their wealth,
my thanks, and their professions of loyalty, and attachment to me. After
having expended our mutual stock of congratulations and nonsense, they
departed, having stated their wish that I should visit them at Tabora
and partake of a feast which they were about to prepare for me.

Three days afterwards I sallied out of my tembe, escorted by eighteen
bravely dressed men of my escort, to pay Tabora a visit. On surmounting
the saddle over which the road from the valley of Kwihara leads to
Tabora, the plain on which the Arab settlement is situated lay before
us, one expanse of dun pasture land, stretching from the base of the
hill on our left as far as the banks of the northern Gombe, which a few
miles beyond Tabora heave into purple-coloured hills and blue cones.

Within three-quarters of an hour we were seated on the mud veranda of
the tembe of Sultan bin Ali, who, because of his age, his wealth, and
position--being a colonel in Seyd Burghash's unlovely army--is looked
upon by his countrymen, high and low, as referee and counsellor. His
boma or enclosure contains quite a village of hive-shaped huts and
square tembes. From here, after being presented with a cup of Mocha
coffee, and some sherbet, we directed our steps towards Khamis bin
Abdullah's house, who had, in anticipation of my coming, prepared a
feast to which he had invited his friends and neighbours. The group of
stately Arabs in their long white dresses, and jaunty caps, also of a
snowy white, who stood ready to welcome me to Tabora, produced quite
an effect on my mind. I was in time for a council of war they were
holding--and I was requested to attend.

Khamis bin Abdullah, a bold and brave man, ever ready to stand up
for the privileges of the Arabs, and their rights to pass through any
countries for legitimate trade, is the man who, in Speke's 'Journal
of the Discovery of the Source of the Nile,' is reported to have shot
Maula, an old chief who sided with Manwa Sera during the wars of 1860;
and who subsequently, after chasing his relentless enemy for five years
through Ugogo and Unyamwezi as far as Ukonongo, had the satisfaction of
beheading him, was now urging the Arabs to assert their rights against a
chief called Mirambo of Uyoweh, in a crisis which was advancing.

This Mirambo of Uyoweh, it seems, had for the last few years been in
a state of chronic discontent with the policies of the neighbouring
chiefs. Formerly a pagazi for an Arab, he had now assumed regal power,
with the usual knack of unconscionable rascals who care not by what
means they step into power. When the chief of Uyoweh died, Mirambo,
who was head of a gang of robbers infesting the forests of Wilyankuru,
suddenly entered Uyoweh, and constituted himself lord paramount by
force. Some feats of enterprise, which he performed to the enrichment
of all those who recognised his authority, established him firmly in
his position. This was but a beginning; he carried war through Ugara to
Ukonongo, through Usagozi to the borders of Uvinza, and after destroying
the populations over three degrees of latitude, he conceived a grievance
against Mkasiwa, and against the Arabs, because they would not sustain
him in his ambitious projects against their ally and friend, with whom
they were living in peace.

The first outrage which this audacious man committed against the Arabs
was the halting of an Ujiji-bound caravan, and the demand for five kegs
of gunpowder, five guns, and five bales of cloth. This extraordinary
demand, after expending more than a day in fierce controversy, was
paid; but the Arabs, if they were surprised at the exorbitant black-mail
demanded of them, were more than ever surprised when they were told to
return the way they came; and that no Arab caravan should pass through
his country to Ujiji except over his dead body.

On the return of the unfortunate Arabs to Unyanyembe, they reported the
facts to Sheikh Sayd bin Salim, the governor of the Arab colony. This
old man, being averse to war, of course tried every means to induce
Mirambo as of old to be satisfied with presents; but Mirambo this time
was obdurate, and sternly determined on war unless the Arabs aided him
in the warfare he was about to wage against old Mkasiwa, sultan of the
Wanyamwezi of Unyanyembe.

"This is the status of affairs," said Khamis bin Abdullah. "Mirambo
says that for years he has been engaged in war against the neighbouring
Washensi and has come out of it victorious; he says this is a great year
with him; that he is going to fight the Arabs, and the Wanyamwezi of
Unyanyembe, and that he shall not stop until every Arab is driven from
Unyanyembe, and he rules over this country in place of Mkasiwa. Children
of Oman, shall it be so? Speak, Salim, son of Sayf, shall we go to meet
this Mshensi (pagan) or shall we return to our island?"

A murmur of approbation followed the speech of Khamis bin Abdullah, the
majority of those present being young men eager to punish the audacious
Mirambo. Salim, the son of Sayf, an old patriarch, slow of speech, tried
to appease the passions of the young men, scions of the aristocracy of
Muscat and Muttrah, and Bedaweens of the Desert, but Khamis's bold words
had made too deep an impression on their minds.

Soud, the handsome Arab whom I have noticed already as the son of Sayd
the son of Majid, spoke: "My father used to tell me that he remembered
the days when the Arabs could go through the country from Bagamoyo to
Ujiji, and from Kilwa to Lunda, and from Usenga to Uganda armed with
canes. Those days are gone by. We have stood the insolence of the Wagogo
long enough. Swaruru of Usui just takes from us whatever he wants; and
now, here is Mirambo, who says, after taking more than five bales of
cloth as tribute from one man, that no Arab caravan shall go to Ujiji,
but over his body. Are we prepared to give up the ivory of Ujiji, of
Urundi, of Karagwah, of Uganda, because of this one man? I say war--war
until we have got his beard under our feet--war until the whole of
Uyoweh and Wilyankuru is destroyed--war until we can again travel
through any part of the country with only our walking canes in our
hands!"

The universal assent that followed Send's speech proved beyond a doubt
that we were about to have a war. I thought of Livingstone. What if he
were marching to Unyanyembe directly into the war country?

Having found from the Arabs that they intended to finish the war
quickly--at most within fifteen days, as Uyoweh was only four marches
distant--I volunteered to accompany them, take my loaded caravan with me
as far as Mfuto, and there leave it in charge of a few guards, and with
the rest march on with the Arab army. And my hope was, that it might
be possible, after the defeat of Mirambo, and his forest banditti--the
Ruga-Ruga--to take my Expedition direct to Ujiji by the road now closed.
The Arabs were sanguine of victory, and I partook of their enthusiasm.

The council of war broke up. A great dishful of rice and curry, in
which almonds, citron, raisins, and currants were plentifully mixed, was
brought in, and it was wonderful how soon we forgot our warlike fervor
after our attention had been drawn to this royal dish. I, of course,
not being a Mohammedan, had a dish of my own, of a similar composition,
strengthened by platters containing roast chicken, and kabobs, crullers,
cakes, sweetbread, fruit, glasses of sherbet and lemonade, dishes
of gum-drops and Muscat sweetmeats, dry raisins, prunes, and nuts.
Certainly Khamis bin Abdullah proved to me that if he had a warlike soul
in him, he could also attend to the cultivated tastes acquired under the
shade of the mangoes on his father's estates in Zanzibar--the island.

After gorging ourselves on these uncommon dainties some of the chief
Arabs escorted me to other tembes of Tabora. When we went to visit
Mussoud bin Abdullah, he showed me the very ground where Burton and
Speke's house stood--now pulled down and replaced by his office--Sny
bin Amer's house was also torn down, and the fashionable tembe of
Unyanyembe, now in vogue, built over it,--finely-carved rafters--huge
carved doors, brass knockers, and lofty airy rooms--a house built for
defence and comfort.

The finest house in Unyanyembe belongs to Amram bin Mussoud, who paid
sixty frasilah of ivory--over $3,000--for it. Very fair houses can be
purchased for from twenty to thirty frasilah of ivory. Amram's house is
called the "Two Seas"--"Baherein." It is one hundred feet in length, and
twenty feet high, with walls four feet thick, neatly plastered over with
mud mortar. The great door is a marvel of carving-work for Unyanyembe
artisans. Each rafter within is also carved with fine designs. Before
the front of the house is a young plantation of pomegranate trees, which
flourish here as if they were indigenous to the soil. A shadoof, such as
may be seen on the Nile, serves to draw water to irrigate the gardens.

Towards evening we walked back to our own finely situated tembe in
Kwihara, well satisfied with what we had seen at Tabora. My men drove a
couple of oxen, and carried three sacks of native rice--a most superior
kind--the day's presents of hospitality from Khamis bin Abdullah.

In Unyanyembe I found the Livingstone caravan, which started off in a
fright from Bagamoyo upon the rumour that the English Consul was coming.
As all the caravans were now halted at Unyanyembe because of the now
approaching war, I suggested to Sayd bin Salim, that it were better that
the men of the Livingstone caravan should live with mine in my tembe,
that I might watch over the white man's goods. Sayd bin Salim agreed
with me, and the men and goods were at once brought to my tembe.

One day Asmani, who was now chief of Livingstone's caravan, the other
having died of small-pox, two or three days before, brought out a tent
to the veranda where, I was sitting writing, and shewed me a packet of
letters, which to my surprise was marked:

"To Dr. Livingstone,

"Ujiji,

"November 1st, 1870.

"Registered letters."

From November 1st, 1870, to February 10, 1871, just one hundred days,
at Bagamoyo! A miserable small caravan of thirty-three men halting one
hundred days at Bagamoyo, only twenty-five miles by water from Zanzibar!
Poor Livingstone! Who knows but he maybe suffering for want of these
very supplies that were detained so long near the sea. The caravan
arrived in Unyanyembe some time about the middle of May. About the
latter part of May the first disturbances took place. Had this caravan
arrived here in the middle of March, or even the middle of April, they
might have travelled on to Ujiji without trouble.

On the 7th of July, about 2 P.M., I was sitting on the burzani as usual;
I felt listless and languid, and a drowsiness came over me; I did not
fall asleep, but the power of my limbs seemed to fail me. Yet the brain
was busy; all my life seemed passing in review before me; when these
retrospective scenes became serious, I looked serious; when they were
sorrowful, I wept hysterically; when they were joyous, I laughed loudly.
Reminiscences of yet a young life's battles and hard struggles came
surging into the mind in quick succession: events of boyhood, of youth,
and manhood; perils, travels, scenes, joys, and sorrows; loves and
hates; friendships and indifferences. My mind followed the various and
rapid transition of my life's passages; it drew the lengthy, erratic,
sinuous lines of travel my footsteps had passed over. If I had drawn
them on the sandy floor, what enigmatical problems they had been to
those around me, and what plain, readable, intelligent histories they
had been to me!

The loveliest feature of all to me was the form of a noble, and
true man, who called me son. Of my life in the great pine forests of
Arkansas, and in Missouri, I retained the most vivid impressions. The
dreaming days I passed under the sighing pines on the Ouachita's shores;
the new clearing, the block-house, our faithful black servant, the
forest deer, and the exuberant life I led, were all well remembered. And
I remembered how one day, after we had come to live near the Mississipi,
I floated down, down, hundreds of miles, with a wild fraternity of
knurly giants, the boatmen of the Mississipi, and how a dear old man
welcomed me back, as if from the grave. I remembered also my travels on
foot through sunny Spain, and France, with numberless adventures in Asia
Minor, among Kurdish nomads. I remembered the battle-fields of America
and the stormy scenes of rampant war. I remembered gold mines, and broad
prairies, Indian councils, and much experience in the new western
lands. I remembered the shock it gave me to hear after my return from a
barbarous country of the calamity that had overtaken the fond man whom
I called father, and the hot fitful life that followed it. Stop!
************

Dear me; is it the 21st of July? Yes, Shaw informed me that it was the
21st of July after I recovered from my terrible attack of fever; the
true date was the 14th of July, but I was not aware that I had jumped a
week, until I met Dr. Livingstone. We two together examined the Nautical
Almanack, which I brought with me. We found that the Doctor was three
weeks out of his reckoning, and to my great surprise I was also one week
out, or one week ahead of the actual date. The mistake was made by
my being informed that I had been two weeks sick, and as the day I
recovered my senses was Friday, and Shaw and the people were morally
sure that I was in bed two weeks, I dated it on my Diary the 21st of
July. However, on the tenth day after the first of my illness, I was in
excellent trim again, only, however, to see and attend to Shaw, who was
in turn taken sick. By the 22nd July Shaw was recovered, then Selim was
prostrated, and groaned in his delirium for four days, but by the 28th
we were all recovered, and were beginning to brighten up at the prospect
of a diversion in the shape of a march upon Mirambo's stronghold.

The morning of the 29th I had fifty men loaded with bales, beads, and
wire, for Ujiji. When they were mustered for the march outside the
tembe, the only man absent was Bombay. While men were sent to search
for him, others departed to get one more look, and one more embrace with
their black Delilahs. Bombay was found some time about 2 P.M., his
face faithfully depicting the contending passions under which he was
labouring--sorrow at parting from the fleshpots of Unyanyembe--regret at
parting from his Dulcinea of Tabora--to be, bereft of all enjoyment now,
nothing but marches--hard, long marches--to go to the war--to be killed,
perhaps, Oh! Inspired by such feelings, no wonder Bombay was inclined to
be pugnacious when I ordered him to his place, and I was in a shocking
bad temper for having been kept waiting from 8 A.M. to 2 P.M. for him.
There was simply a word and a savage look, and my cane was flying around
Bombay's shoulders, as if he were to be annihilated. I fancy that the
eager fury of my onslaught broke his stubbornness more than anything
else; for before I had struck him a dozen times he was crying for
"pardon." At that word I ceased belaboring him, for this was the first
time he had ever uttered that word. Bombay was conquered at last.

"March!" and the guide led off, followed in solemn order by forty-nine
of his fellows, every man carrying a heavy load of African moneys,
besides his gun, hatchet, and stock of ammunition, and his ugali-pot. We
presented quite an imposing sight while thus marching on in silence
and order, with our flags flying, and the red blanket robes of the men
streaming behind them as the furious north-easter blew right on our
flank.

The men seemed to feel they were worth seeing, for I noticed that
several assumed a more martial tread as they felt their royal Joho cloth
tugging at their necks, as it was swept streaming behind by the wind.
Maganga, a tall Mnyamwezi, stalked along like a very Goliah about to
give battle alone, to Mirambo and his thousand warriors. Frisky Khamisi
paced on under his load, imitating a lion and there was the rude
jester--the incorrigible Ulimengo--with a stealthy pace like a cat. But
their silence could not last long. Their vanity was so much gratified,
the red cloaks danced so incessantly before their eyes, that it would
have been a wonder if they could have maintained such serious gravity or
discontent one half hour longer.

Ulimengo was the first who broke it. He had constituted himself the
kirangozi or guide, and was the standard-bearer, bearing the American
flag, which the men thought would certainly strike terror into the
hearts of the enemy. Growing confident first, then valorous, then
exultant, he suddenly faced the army he was leading, and shouted

        "Hoy!  Hoy!
Chorus.--Hoy! Hoy!

         Hoy!  Hoy!
Chorus.--Hoy! Hoy!

         Hoy!  Hoy!
Chorus.--Hoy! Hoy!

         Where are ye going?
Chorus.--Going to war.

         Against whom?
Chorus.--Against Mirambo.

         Who is your master?
Chorus.--The White Man.

         Ough!  Ough!
Chorus.--Ough! Ough!

         Hyah!  Hyah!
Chorus.--Hyah. Hyah!"

This was the ridiculous song they kept up all day without intermission.

We camped the first day at Bomboma's village, situated a mile to the
south-west of the natural hill fortress of Zimbili. Bombay was quite
recovered from his thrashing, and had banished the sullen thoughts that
had aroused my ire, and the men having behaved themselves so well, a
five-gallon pot of pombe was brought to further nourish the valour,
which they one and all thought they possessed.

The second day we arrived at Masangi. I was visited soon afterwards by
Soud, the son of Sayd bin Majid, who told me the Arabs were waiting for
me; that they would not march from Mfuto until I had arrived.

Eastern Mfuto, after a six hours' march, was reached on the third day
from Unyanyembe. Shaw gave in, laid down in the road, and declared he
was dying. This news was brought to me about 4 P.M. by one of the last
stragglers. I was bound to despatch men to carry him to me, into my
camp, though every man was well tired after the long march. A reward
stimulated half-a-dozen to venture into the forest just at dusk to find
Shaw, who was supposed to be at least three hours away from camp.

About two o'clock in the morning my men returned, having carried Shaw on
their backs the entire distance. I was roused up, and had him conveyed
to my tent. I examined him, and I assured myself he was not suffering
from fever of any kind; and in reply to my inquiries as to how he
felt, he said he could neither walk nor ride, that he felt such extreme
weakness and lassitude that he was incapable of moving further. After
administering a glass of port wine to him in a bowlful of sago gruel, we
both fell asleep.

We arrived early the following morning at Mfuto, the rendezvous of the
Arab army. A halt was ordered the next day, in order to make ourselves
strong by eating the beeves, which we freely slaughtered.

The personnel of our army was as follows:

Sheikh Sayd bin Salim...... 25 half caste

  "    Khamis bin Abdullah....  250 slaves

  "    Thani bin Abdullah....    80   "

  "    Mussoud bin Abdullah....  75   "

  "    Abdullah bin Mussoud....  80   "

  "    Ali bin Sayd bin Nasib...  250   "

  "    Nasir bin Mussoud.....  50   "

  "    Hamed Kimiami......   70   "

  "    Hamdam........   30   "


  "    Sayd bin Habib......  50   "

  "    Salim bin Sayf.....    100   "

  "    Sunguru........  25    "

  "    Sarboko........  25    "

  "    Soud bin Sayd bin Majid...  50    "

  "    Mohammed bin Mussoud....  30    "

  "    Sayd bin Hamed...... 90    "

  "    The 'Herald' Expedition...  50 soldiers

  "    Mkasiwa's Wanyamwezi...   800    "

  "    Half-castes and Wangwana..  125    "

  "    Independent chiefs and their
       followers.......  300    "

These made a total of 2,255, according to numbers given me by Thani bin
Abdullah, and corroborated by a Baluch in the pay of Sheikh bin Nasib.
Of these men 1,500 were armed with guns--flint-lock muskets, German
and French double-barrels, some English Enfields, and American
Springfields--besides these muskets, they were mostly armed with spears
and long knives for the purpose of decapitating, and inflicting vengeful
gashes in the dead bodies. Powder and ball were plentiful: some men were
served a hundred rounds each, my people received each man sixty rounds.

As we filed out of the stronghold of Mfuto, with waving banners denoting
the various commanders, with booming horns, and the roar of fifty bass
drums, called gomas--with blessings showered on us by the mollahs,
and happiest predications from the soothsayers, astrologers, and the
diviners of the Koran--who could have foretold that this grand force,
before a week passed over its head, would be hurrying into that same
stronghold of Mfuto, with each man's heart in his mouth from fear?

The date of our leaving Mfuto for battle with Mirambo was the 3rd of
August. All my goods were stored in Mfuto, ready for the march to Ujiji,
should we be victorious over the African chief, but at least for safety,
whatever befel us.

Long before we reached Umanda, I was in my hammock in the paroxysms of
a fierce attack of intermittent fever, which did not leave me until late
that night.

At Umanda, six hours from Mfuto, our warriors bedaubed themselves with
the medicine which the wise men had manufactured for them--a compound
of matama flour mixed with the juices of a herb whose virtues were only
known to the Waganga of the Wanyamwezi.

At 6 A.M. on the 4th of August we were once more prepared for the road,
but before we were marched out of the village, the "manneno," or speech,
was delivered by the orator of the Wanyamwezi:

"Words! words! words! Listen, sons of Mkasiwa, children of Unyamwezi!
the journey is before you, the thieves of the forest are waiting; yes,
they are thieves, they cut up your caravans, they steal your ivory, they
murder your women. Behold, the Arabs are with you, El Wali of the Arab
sultan, and the white man are with you. Go, the son of Mkasiwa is with
you; fight; kill, take slaves, take cloth, take cattle, kill, eat, and
fill yourselves! Go!"

A loud, wild shout followed this bold harangue, the gates of the
village were thrown open, and blue, red, and white-robed soldiers were
bounding upward like so many gymnasts; firing their guns incessantly, in
order to encourage themselves with noise, or to strike terror into the
hearts of those who awaited us within the strong enclosure of Zimbizo,
Sultan Kolongo's place.

As Zimbizo was distant only five hours from Umanda, at 11 A.M. we came
in view of it. We halted on the verge of the cultivated area around it
and its neighbours within the shadow of the forest. Strict orders had
been given by the several chiefs to their respective commands not to
fire, until they were within shooting distance of the boma.

Khamis bin Abdullah crept through the forest to the west of the village.
The Wanyamwezi took their position before the main gateway, aided by the
forces of Soud the son of Sayd on the right, and the son of Habib on
the left, Abdullah, Mussoud, myself, and others made ready to attack
the eastern gates, which arrangement effectually shut them in, with the
exception of the northern side.

Suddenly, a volley opened on us as we emerged from the forest along the
Unyanyembe road, in the direction they had been anticipating the sight
of an enemy, and immediately the attacking forces began their firing in
most splendid style. There were some ludicrous scenes of men pretending
to fire, then jumping off to one side, then forward, then backward,
with the agility of hopping frogs, but the battle was none the less in
earnest. The breech-loaders of my men swallowed my metallic cartridges
much faster than I liked to see; but happily there was a lull in the
firing, and we were rushing into the village from the west, the south,
the north, through the gates and over the tall palings that surrounded
the village, like so many Merry Andrews; and the poor villagers were
flying from the enclosure towards the mountains, through the northern
gate, pursued by the fleetest runners of our force, and pelted in the
back by bullets from breech-loaders and shot-guns.

The village was strongly defended, and not more than twenty dead
bodies were found in it, the strong thick wooden paling having afforded
excellent protection against our bullets.

From Zimbizo, after having left a sufficient force within, we sallied
out, and in an hour had cleared the neighbourhood of the enemy, having
captured two other villages, which we committed to the flames, after
gutting them of all valuables. A few tusks of ivory, and about fifty
slaves, besides an abundance of grain, composed the "loot," which fell
to the lot of the Arabs.

On the 5th, a detachment of Arabs and slaves, seven hundred strong,
scoured the surrounding country, and carried fire and devastation up to
the boma of Wilyankuru.

On the 6th, Soud bin Sayd and about twenty other young Arabs led a force
of five hundred men against Wilyankuru itself, where it was supposed
Mirambo was living. Another party went out towards the low wooded hills,
a short distance north of Zimbizo, near which place they surprised a
youthful forest thief asleep, whose head they stretched backwards, and
cut it off as though he were a goat or a sheep. Another party sallied
out southward, and defeated a party of Mirambo's "bush-whackers," news
of which came to our ears at noon.

In the morning I had gone to Sayd bin Salim's tembe, to represent to him
how necessary it was to burn the long grass in the forest of Zimbizo,
lest it might hide any of the enemy; but soon afterwards I had been
struck down with another attack of intermittent fever, and was obliged
to turn in and cover myself with blankets to produce perspiration; but
not, however, till I had ordered Shaw and Bombay not to permit any of my
men to leave the camp. But I was told soon afterwards by Selim that more
than one half had gone to the attack on Wilyankuru with Soud bin Sayd.

About 6 P.M. the entire camp of Zimbizo was electrified with the news
that all the Arabs who had accompanied Soud bin Sayd had been killed;
and that more than one-half of his party had been slain. Some of my own
men returned, and from them I learned that Uledi, Grant's former valet,
Mabruki Khatalabu (Killer of his father), Mabruki (the Little), Baruti
of Useguhha, and Ferahan had been killed. I learned also that they had
succeeded in capturing Wilyankuru in a very short time, that Mirambo
and his son were there, that as they succeeded in effecting an entrance,
Mirambo had collected his men, and after leaving the village, had formed
an ambush in the grass, on each side of the road, between Wilyankuru and
Zimbizo, and that as the attacking party were returning home laden with
over a hundred tusks of ivory, and sixty bales of cloth, and two or
three hundred slaves, Mirambo's men suddenly rose up on each side of
them, and stabbed them with their spears. The brave Soud had fired his
double-barrelled gun and shot two men, and was in the act of loading
again when a spear was launched, which penetrated through and through
him: all the other Arabs shared the same fate. This sudden attack from
an enemy they believed to be conquered so demoralized the party that,
dropping their spoil, each man took to his heels, and after making
a wide detour through the woods, returned to Zimbizo to repeat the
dolorous tale.

The effect of this defeat is indescribable. It was impossible to sleep,
from the shrieks of the women whose husbands had fallen. All night they
howled their lamentations, and sometimes might be heard the groans of
the wounded who had contrived to crawl through the grass unperceived by
the enemy. Fugitives were continually coming in throughout the night,
but none of my men who were reported to be dead, were ever heard of
again.

The 7th was a day of distrust, sorrow, and retreat; the Arabs accused
one another for urging war without expending all peaceful means first.
There were stormy councils of war held, wherein were some who proposed
to return at once to Unyanyembe, and keep within their own houses; and
Khamis bin Abdullah raved, like an insulted monarch, against the abject
cowardice of his compatriots. These stormy meetings and propositions
to retreat were soon known throughout the camp, and assisted more than
anything else to demoralize completely the combined forces of Wanyamwezi
and slaves. I sent Bombay to Sayd bin Salim to advise him not to think
of retreat, as it would only be inviting Mirambo to carry the war to
Unyanyembe.

After, despatching Bombay with this message, I fell asleep, but about
1.30 P.M. I was awakened by Selim saying, "Master, get up, they are all
running away, and Khamis bin Abdullah is himself going."

With the aid of Selim I dressed myself, and staggered towards the door.
My first view was of Thani bin Abdullah being dragged away, who, when he
caught sight of me, shouted out "Bana--quick--Mirambo is coming." He
was then turning to run, and putting on his jacket, with his eyes almost
starting out of their sockets with terror. Khamis bin Abdullah was also
about departing, he being the last Arab to leave. Two of my men were
following him; these Selim was ordered to force back with a revolver.
Shaw was saddling his donkey with my own saddle, preparatory to giving
me the slip, and leaving me in the lurch to the tender mercies of
Mirambo. There were only Bombay, Mabruki Speke, Chanda who was coolly
eating his dinner, Mabruk Unyauyembe, Mtamani, Juma, and Sarmean---only
seven out of fifty. All the others had deserted, and were by this time
far away, except Uledi (Manwa Sera) and Zaidi, whom Selim brought back
at the point of a loaded revolver. Selim was then told to saddle my
donkey, and Bombay to assist Shaw to saddle his own. In a few moments we
were on the road, the men ever looking back for the coming enemy; they
belabored the donkeys to some purpose, for they went at a hard trot,
which caused me intense pain. I would gladly have lain down to die, but
life was sweet, and I had not yet given up all hope of being able to
preserve it to the full and final accomplishment of my mission. My mind
was actively at work planning and contriving during the long lonely
hours of night, which we employed to reach Mfuto, whither I found the
Arabs had retreated. In the night Shaw tumbled off his donkey, and would
not rise, though implored to do so. As I did not despair myself, so I
did not intend that Shaw should despair. He was lifted on his animal,
and a man was placed on each side of him to assist him; thus we rode
through the darkness. At midnight we reached Mfuto safely, and were at
once admitted into the village, from which we had issued so valiantly,
but to which we were now returned so ignominiously.

I found all my men had arrived here before dark. Ulimengo, the bold
guide who had exulted in his weapons and in our numbers, and was so
sanguine of victory, had performed the eleven hours' march in six hours;
sturdy Chowpereh, whom I regarded as the faithfullest of my people, had
arrived only half an hour later than Ulimengo; and frisky Khamisi, the
dandy--the orator--the rampant demagogue--yes--he had come third; and
Speke's "Faithfuls" had proved as cowardly as any poor "nigger" of them
all. Only Selim was faithful.

I asked Selim, "Why did you not also run away, and leave your master to
die?"

"Oh, sir," said the Arab boy, naively, "I was afraid you would whip me."



CHAPTER IX. -- MY LIFE AND TROUBLES IN UNYANYEMBE-(continued).


It never occurred to the Arab magnates that I had cause of complaint
against them, or that I had a right to feel aggrieved at their conduct,
for the base desertion of an ally, who had, as a duty to friendship,
taken up arms for their sake. Their "salaams" the next morning after the
retreat, were given as if nothing had transpired to mar the good feeling
that had existed between us.

They were hardly seated, however, before I began to inform them that as
the war was only between them and Mirambo, and that as I was afraid, if
they were accustomed to run away after every little check, that the war
might last a much longer time than I could afford to lose; and that
as they had deserted their wounded on the field, and left their sick
friends to take care of themselves, they must not consider me in the
light of an ally any more. "I am satisfied," said I, "having seen your
mode of fighting, that the war will not be ended in so short a time as
you think it will. It took you five years, I hear, to conquer and kill
Manwa Sera, you will certainly not conquer Mirambo in less than a year.*
I am a white man, accustomed to wars after a different style, I know
something about fighting, but I never saw people run away from an
encampment like ours at Zimbizo for such slight cause as you had. By
running away, you have invited Mirambo to follow you to Unyanyembe; you
may be sure he will come." __________________ * The same war is still
raging, April, 1874. __________________

The Arabs protested one after another that they had not intended to
have left me, but the Wanyamwezi of Mkasiwa had shouted out that the
"Musungu" was gone, and the cry had caused a panic among their people,
which it was impossible to allay.

Later that day the Arabs continued their retreat to Tabora; which
is twenty-two miles distant from Mfuto. I determined to proceed more
leisurely, and on the second day after the flight from Zimbizo, the
Expedition, with all the stores and baggage, marched back to Masangi,
and on the third day to Kwihara.

The following extracts from my Diary will serve to show better than
anything else, my feelings and thoughts about this time, after our
disgraceful retreat:

Kwihara. Friday, 11th August, 1871.--Arrived to-day from Zimbili,
village of Bomboma's. I am quite disappointed and almost disheartened.
But I have one consolation, I have done my duty by the Arabs, a duty I
thought I owed to the kindness they received me with, now, however, the
duty is discharged, and I am free to pursue my own course. I feel
happy, for some reasons, that the duty has been paid at such a slight
sacrifice. Of course if I had lost my life in this enterprise, I should
have been justly punished. But apart from my duty to the consideration
with which the Arabs had received me, was the necessity of trying every
method of reaching Livingstone. This road which the war with Mirambo has
closed, is only a month's march from this place, and, if the road could
be opened with my aid, sooner than without it, why should I refuse my
aid? The attempt has been made for the second time to Ujiji--both have
failed. I am going to try another route; to attempt to go by the north
would be folly. Mirambo's mother and people, and the Wasui, are between
me and Ujiji, without including the Watuta, who are his allies, and
robbers. The southern route seems to be the most practicable one.
Very few people know anything of the country south; those whom I have
questioned concerning it speak of "want of water" and robber Wazavira,
as serious obstacles; they also say that the settlements are few and far
between.

But before I can venture to try this new route, I have to employ a new
set of men, as those whom I took to Mfuto consider their engagements at
an end, and the fact of five of their number being killed rather damps
their ardor for travelling. It is useless to hope that Wanyamwezi can
be engaged, because it is against their custom to go with caravans, as
carriers, during war time. My position is most serious. I have a good
excuse for returning to the coast, but my conscience will not permit me
to do so, after so much money has been expended, and so much confidence
has been placed in me. In fact, I feel I must die sooner than return.

Saturday, August 12th.--My men, as I supposed they would, have gone;
they said that I engaged them to go, to Ujiji by Mirambo's road. I have
only thirteen left.

With this small body of men, whither can I go? I have over one hundred
loads in the storeroom. Livingstone's caravan is also here; his goods
consist of seventeen bales of cloth, twelve boxes, and six bags of
beads. His men are luxuriating upon the best the country affords.

If Livingstone is at Ujiji, he is now locked up with small means of
escape. I may consider myself also locked up at Unyamyembe, and I
suppose cannot go to Ujiji until this war with Mirambo is settled.
Livingstone cannot get his goods, for they are here with mine. He cannot
return to Zanzibar, and the road to the Nile is blocked up. He might,
if he has men and stores, possibly reach Baker by travelling northwards,
through Urundi, thence through Ruanda, Karagwah, Uganda, Unyoro, and
Ubari to Gondokoro. Pagazis he cannot obtain, for the sources whence a
supply might be obtained are closed. It is an erroneous supposition to
think that Livingstone, any more than any other energetic man of his
calibre, can travel through Africa without some sort of an escort, and a
durable supply of marketable cloth and beads.

I was told to-day by a man that when Livingstone was coming from Nyassa
Lake towards the Tanganika (the very time that people thought him
murdered) he was met by Sayd bin Omar's caravan, which was bound for
Ulamba. He was travelling with Mohammed bin Gharib. This Arab, who was
coming from Urunga, met Livingstone at Chi-cumbi's, or Kwa-chi-kumbi's,
country, and travelled with him afterwards, I hear, to Manyuema or
Manyema. Manyuema is forty marches from the north of Nyassa. Livingstone
was walking; he was dressed in American sheeting. He had lost all his
cloth in Lake Liemba while crossing it in a boat. He had three canoes
with him; in one he put his cloth, another he loaded with his boxes and
some of his men, into the third he went himself with two servants and
two fishermen. The boat with his cloth was upset. On leaving Nyassa,
Livingstone went to Ubisa, thence to Uemba, thence to Urungu.
Livingstone wore a cap. He had a breech-loading double-barreled rifle
with him, which fired fulminating balls. He was also armed with two
revolvers. The Wahiyow with Livingstone told this man that their master
had many men with him at first, but that several had deserted him.

August 13th.--A caravan came in to-day from the seacoast. They reported
that William L. Farquhar, whom I left sick at Mpwapwa, Usagara, and
his cook, were dead. Farquhar, I was told, died a few days after I had
entered Ugogo, his cook died a few weeks later. My first impulse was for
revenge. I believed that Leukole had played me false, and had poisoned
him, or that he had been murdered in some other manner; but a personal
interview with the Msawahili who brought the news informing me that
Farquhar had succumbed to his dreadful illness has done away with that
suspicion. So far as I could understand him, Farquhar had in the morning
declared himself well enough to proceed, but in attempting to rise, had
fallen backward and died. I was also told that the Wasagara, possessing
some superstitious notions respecting the dead, had ordered Jako to
take the body out for burial, that Jako, not being able to carry it,
had dragged the body to the jungle, and there left it naked without the
slightest covering of earth, or anything else.

"There is one of us gone, Shaw, my boy! Who will be the next?" I
remarked that night to my companion.

August 14th.--Wrote some letters to Zanzibar. Shaw was taken very ill
last night.

August 19th. Saturday.--My soldiers are employed stringing beads.
Shaw is still a-bed. We hear that Mirambo is coming to Unyanyembe.
A detachment of Arabs and their slaves have started this morning to
possess themselves of the powder left there by the redoubtable Sheikh
Sayd bin Salim, the commander-in-chief of the Arab settlements.

August 21st. Monday.--Shaw still sick. One hundred fundo of beads have
been strung. The Arabs are preparing for another sally against Mirambo.
The advance of Mirambo upon Unyanyembe was denied by Sayd bin Salim,
this morning.

August 22nd.--We were stringing beads this morning, when, about 10 A.M.,
we heard a continued firing from the direction of Tabora. Rushing out
from our work to the front door facing Tabora, we heard considerable
volleying, and scattered firing, plainly; and ascending to the top of my
tembe, I saw with my glasses the smoke of the guns. Some of my men
who were sent on to ascertain the cause came running back with the
information that Mirambo had attacked Tabora with over two thousand men,
and that a force of over one thousand Watuta, who had allied themselves
with him for the sake of plunder, had come suddenly upon Tabora,
attacking from opposite directions.

Later in the day, or about noon, watching the low saddle over which we
could see Tabora, we saw it crowded with fugitives from that settlement,
who were rushing to our settlement at Kwihara for protection. From these
people we heard the sad information that the noble Khamis bin Abdullah,
his little protege, Khamis, Mohammed bin Abdullah, Ibrahim bin Rashid,
and Sayf, the son of Ali, the son of Sheikh, the son of Nasib, had been
slain.

When I inquired into the details of the attack, and the manner of the
death of these Arabs, I was told that after the first firing which
warned the inhabitants of Tabora that the enemy was upon them, Khamis
bin Abdullah and some of the principal Arabs who happened to be with
him had ascended to the roof of his tembe, and with his spyglass he had
looked towards the direction of the firing. To his great astonishment he
saw the plain around Tabora filled with approaching savages, and about
two miles off, near Kazima, a tent pitched, which he knew to belong to
Mirambo, from its having been presented to that chief by the Arabs of
Tabora when they were on good terms with him.

Khamis bin Abdullah descended to his house saying, "Let us go to meet
him. Arm yourselves, my friends, and come with me." His friends advised
him strongly sat to go out of his tembe; for so long as each Arab kept
to his tembe they were more than a match for the Ruga Ruga and the
Watuta together. But Khamis broke out impatiently with, "Would you
advise us to stop in our tembes, for fear of this Mshensi (pagan)? Who
goes with me?" His little protege, Khamis, son of a dead friend, asked
to be allowed to be his gun-bearer. Mohammed bin Abdulluh, Ibrahim bin
Rashid, and Sayf, the son of Ali, young Arabs of good families, who were
proud to live with the noble Khamis, also offered to go with him. After
hastily arming eighty of his slaves, contrary to the advice of his
prudent friends, he sallied out, and was soon face to face with his
cunning and determined enemy Mirambo. This chief, upon seeing the Arabs
advance towards him, gave orders to retreat slowly. Khamis, deceived by
this, rushed on with his friends after them. Suddenly Mirambo ordered
his men to advance upon them in a body, and at the sight of the
precipitate rush upon their party, Khamis's slaves incontinently took to
their heels, never even deigning to cast a glance behind them, leaving
their master to the fate which was now overtaking him. The savages
surrounded the five Arabs, and though several of them fell before the
Arabs' fire, continued to shoot at the little party, until Khamis bin
Abdullah received a bullet in the leg, which brought him to his knees,
and, for the first time, to the knowledge that his slaves had deserted
him. Though wounded, the brave man continued shooting, but he soon
afterwards received a bullet through the heart. Little Khamis, upon
seeing his adopted father's fall, exclaimed: "My father Khamis is dead,
I will die with him," and continued fighting until he received, shortly
after, his death wound. In a few minutes there was not one Arab left
alive.

Late at night some more particulars arrived of this tragic scene. I was
told by people who saw the bodies, that the body of Khamis bin Abdullah,
who was a fine noble, brave, portly man, was found with the skin of his
forehead, the beard and skin of the lower part of his face, the fore
part of the nose, the fat over the stomach and abdomen, and, lastly, a
bit from each heel, cut off, by the savage allies of Mirambo. And in
the same condition were found the bodies of his adopted son and fallen
friends. The flesh and skin thus taken from the bodies was taken, of
course, by the waganga or medicine men, to make what they deem to be
the most powerful potion of all to enable men to be strong against their
enemies. This potion is mixed up with their ugali and rice, and is taken
in this manner with the most perfect confidence in its efficacy, as
an invulnerable protection against bullets and missiles of all
descriptions.

It was a most sorry scene to witness from our excited settlement at
Kwihara, almost the whole of Tabora in flames, and to see the hundreds
of people crowding into Kwihara.

Perceiving that my people were willing to stand by me, I made
preparations for defence by boring loopholes for muskets into the
stout clay walls of my tembe. They were made so quickly, and seemed so
admirably adapted for the efficient defence of the tembe, that my men
got quite brave, and Wangwana refugees with guns in their hands, driven
out of Tabora, asked to be admitted into our tembe to assist in its
defence. Livingstone's men were also collected, and invited to help
defend their master's goods against Mirambo's supposed attack. By night
I had one hundred and fifty armed men in my courtyard, stationed at
every possible point where an attack might be expected. To-morrow
Mirambo has threatened that he will come to Kwihara. I hope he will
come, and if he comes within range of an American rifle, I shall see
what virtue lies in American lead.

August 23rd.--We have passed a very anxious day in the valley of
Kwihara. Our eyes were constantly directed towards unfortunate Tabora.
It has been said that three tembes only have stood the brunt of the
attack. Abid bin Suliman's house has been destroyed, and over two
hundred tusks of ivory that belonged to him have become the property of
the African Bonaparte. My tembe is in as efficient a state of defence as
its style and means of defence will allow. Rifle-pits surround the house
outside, and all native huts that obstructed the view have been torn
down, and all trees and shrubs which might serve as a shelter for any
one of the enemy have been cut. Provisions and water enough for six days
have been brought. I have ammunition enough to last two weeks. The walls
are three feet thick, and there are apartments within apartments, so
that a desperate body of men could fight until the last room had been
taken.

The Arabs, my neighbours, endeavour to seem brave, but it is evident
they are about despairing; I have heard it rumoured that the Arabs of
Kwihara, if Tabora is taken, will start en masse for the coast, and give
the country up to Mirambo. If such are their intentions, and they are
really carried into effect, I shall be in a pretty mess. However, if
they do leave me, Mirambo will not reap any benefit from my stores,
nor from Livingstone's either, for I shall burn the whole house, and
everything in it.

August 24th.--The American flag is still waving above my house, and the
Arabs are still in Unyanyembe.

About 10 A.M., a messenger came from Tabora, asking us if we were not
going to assist them against Mirambo. I felt very much like going out to
help them; but after debating long upon the pros and cons of it,--asking
myself, Was it prudent? Ought I to go? What will become of the people
if I were killed? Will they not desert me again? What was the fate of
Khamis bin Abdullah?--I sent word that I would not go; that they ought
to feel perfectly at home in their tembes against such a force as
Mirambo had, that I should be glad if they could induce him to come to
Kwihara, in which case I would try and pick him off.

They say that Mirambo, and his principal officer, carry umbrellas over
their heads, that he himself has long hair like a Mnyamwezi pagazi, and
a beard. If he comes, all the men carrying umbrellas will have bullets
rained on them in the hope that one lucky bullet may hit him. According
to popular ideas, I should make a silver bullet, but I have no silver
with me. I might make a gold one.

About, noon I went over to see Sheikh bin Nasib, leaving about 100 men
inside the house to guard it while I was absent. This old fellow is
quite a philosopher in his way. I should call him a professor of minor
philosophy. He is generally so sententious--fond of aphorisms, and a
very deliberate character. I was astonished to find him so despairing.
His aphorisms have deserted him, his philosophy has not been able to
stand against disaster. He listened to me, more like a moribund, than
one possessing all the means of defence and offence.

I loaded his two-pounder with ball, and grape, and small slugs of iron,
and advised him not to fire it until Mirambo's people were at his gates.

About 4 p.m. I heard that Mirambo had deported himself to Kazima, a
place north-west of Tabora a couple of miles.

August 26th.--The Arabs sallied out this morning to attack Kazima, but
refrained, because Mirambo asked for a day's grace, to eat the beef he
had stolen from them. He has asked them impudently to come to-morrow
morning, at which time he says he will give them plenty of fighting.

Kwihara is once more restored to a peaceful aspect, and fugitives no
longer throng its narrow limits in fear and despair.

August 27th.--Mirambo retreated during the night; and when the Arabs
went in force to attack his village of Kazima, they found it vacant.

The Arabs hold councils of war now-a-days--battle meetings, of which
they seem to be very fond, but extremely slow to act upon. They were
about to make friends with the northern Watuta, but Mirambo was ahead of
them. They had talked of invading Mirambo's territory the second time,
but Mirambo invaded Unyanyembe with fire and sword, bringing death to
many a household, and he has slain the noblest of them all.

The Arabs spend their hours in talking and arguing, while the Ujiji
and Karagwah roads are more firmly closed than ever. Indeed many of
the influential Arabs are talking of returning to Zanzibar; saying,
"Unyanyembe is ruined."

Meanwhile, with poor success, however, perceiving the impossibility of
procuring Wanyamwezi pagazis, I am hiring the Wangwana renegades living
in Unyanyembe to proceed with me to Ujiji, at treble prices. Each man is
offered 30 doti, ordinary hire of a carrier being only from 5 to 10 doti
to Ujiji. I want fifty men. I intend to leave about sixty or seventy
loads here under charge of a guard. I shall leave all personal baggage
behind, except one small portmanteau.

August 28th.--No news to-day of Mirambo. Shaw is getting strong again.

Sheikh bin Nasib called on me to-day, but, except on minor philosophy,
he had nothing to say.

I have determined, after a study of the country, to lead a flying
caravan to Ujiji, by a southern road through northern Ukonongo
and Ukawendi. Sheikh bin Nasib has been informed to-night of this
determination.

August 29th.--Shaw got up to-day for a little work. Alas! all my
fine-spun plans of proceeding by boat over the Victoria N'Yanza, thence
down the Nile, have been totally demolished, I fear, through this war
with Mirambo--this black Bonaparte. Two months have been wasted here
already. The Arabs take such a long time to come to a conclusion. Advice
is plentiful, and words are as numerous as the blades of grass in our
valley; all that is wanting indecision. The Arabs' hope and stay is
dead--Khamis bin Abdullah is no more. Where are the other warriors
of whom the Wangwana and Wanyamwezi bards sing? Where is mighty
Kisesa--great Abdullah bin Nasib? Where is Sayd, the son of Majid?
Kisesa is in Zanzibar, and Sayd, the son of Majid, is in Ujiji, as yet
ignorant that his son has fallen in the forest of Wilyankuru.

Shaw is improving fast. I am unsuccessful as yet in procuring soldiers.
I almost despair of ever being able to move from here. It is such a
drowsy, sleepy, slow, dreaming country. Arabs, Wangwana, Wanyamwezi, are
all alike--all careless how time flies. Their to-morrow means sometimes
within a month. To me it is simply maddening.

August 30th.--Shaw will not work. I cannot get him to stir himself. I
have petted him and coaxed him; I have even cooked little luxuries
for him myself. And, while I am straining every nerve to get ready for
Ujiji, Shaw is satisfied with looking on listlessly. What a change from
the ready-handed bold man he was at Zanzibar!

I sat down by his side to-day with my palm and needle in order to
encourage him, and to-day, for the first time, I told him of the real
nature of my mission. I told him that I did not care about the geography
of the country half as much as I cared about FINDING LIVINGSTONE! I told
him, for the first time, "Now, my dear Shaw, you think probably that I
have been sent here to find the depth of the Tanganika. Not a bit of
it, man; I was told to find Livingstone. It is to find Livingstone I am
here. It is to find Livingstone I am going. Don't you see, old fellow,
the importance of the mission; don't you see what reward you will get
from Mr. Bennett, if you will help me? I am sure, if ever you come to
New York, you will never be in want of a fifty-dollar bill. So shake
yourself; jump about; look lively. Say you will not die; that is half
the battle. Snap your fingers at the fever. I will guarantee the fever
won't kill you. I have medicine enough for a regiment here!"

His eyes lit up a little, but the light that shone in them shortly
faded, and died. I was quite disheartened. I made some strong punch, to
put fire in his veins, that I might see life in him. I put sugar, and
eggs, and seasoned it with lemon and spice. "Drink, Shaw," said I, "and
forget your infirmities. You are not sick, dear fellow; it is only ennui
you are feeling. Look at Selim there. Now, I will bet any amount, that
he will not die; that I will carry him home safe to his friends! I will
carry you home also, if you will, let me!"

September 1st:--According to Thani bin Abdullah whom I visited to-day,
at his tembe in Maroro, Mirambo lost two hundred men in the attack upon
Tabora, while the Arabs' losses were, five Arabs, thirteen freemen and
eight slaves, besides three tembes, and over one hundred small huts
burned, two hundred and eighty ivory tusks, and sixty cows and bullocks
captured.

September 3rd.--Received a packet of letters and newspapers from Capt.
Webb, at Zanzibar. What a good thing it is that one's friends, even in
far America, think of the absent one in Africa! They tell me, that no
one dreams of my being in Africa yet!

I applied to Sheikh bin Nasib to-day to permit Livingstone's caravan to
go under my charge to Ujiji, but he would not listen to it. He says he
feels certain I am going to my death.

September 4th.--Shaw is quite well to-day, he says. Selim is down with
the fever. My force is gradually increasing, though some of my old
soldiers are falling off. Umgareza is blind; Baruti has the small-pox
very badly; Sadala has the intermittent.

September 5th.--Baruti died this morning. He was one of my best
soldiers; and was one of those men who accompanied Speke to Egypt.
Baruti is number seven of those who have died since leaving Zanzibar.

To-day my ears have been poisoned with the reports of the Arabs, about
the state of the country I am about to travel through. "The roads are
bad; they are all stopped; the Ruga-Ruga are out in the forests; the
Wakonongo are coming from the south to help Mirambo; the Washensi are
at war, one tribe against another." My men are getting dispirited, they
have imbibed the fears of the Arabs and the Wanyamwezi. Bombay begins
to feel that I had better go back to the coast, and try again some other
time.

We buried Baruti under the shade of the banyan-tree, a few yards west
of my tembe. The grave was made four and a half feet deep and three
feet wide. At the bottom on one side a narrow trench was excavated,
into which the body was rolled on his side, with his face turned
towards Mecca. The body was dressed in a doti and a half of new American
sheeting. After it was placed properly in its narrow bed, a sloping
roof of sticks, covered over with matting and old canvas, was made, to
prevent the earth from falling over the body. The grave was then filled,
the soldiers laughing merrily. On the top of the grave was planted a
small shrub, and into a small hole made with the hand, was poured water
lest he might feel thirsty--they said--on his way to Paradise; water was
then sprinkled all ever the grave, and the gourd broken. This ceremony
being ended, the men recited the Arabic Fat-hah, after which they left
the grave of their dead comrade to think no more of him.

September 7th.--An Arab named Mohammed presented me to-day with a little
boy-slave, called "Ndugu M'hali" (my brother's wealth). As I did not
like the name, I called the chiefs of my caravan together, and asked
them to give him a better name. One suggested "Simba" (a lion), another
said he thought "Ngombe" (a cow) would suit the boy-child, another
thought he ought to be called "Mirambo," which raised a loud laugh.
Bombay thought "Bombay Mdogo" would suit my black-skinned infant very
well. Ulimengo, however, after looking at his quick eyes, and noting his
celerity of movement, pronounced the name Ka-lu-la as the best for him,
"because," said he, "just look at his eyes, so bright look at his form,
so slim! watch his movements, how quick! Yes, Kalulu is his name." "Yes,
bana," said the others, "let it be Kalulu."

"Kalulu" is a Kisawahili term for the young of the blue-buck
(perpusilla) antelope.

"Well, then," said I, water being brought in a huge tin pan, Selim, who
was willing to stand godfather, holding him over the water, "let his
name henceforth be Kalulu, and let no man take it from him," and thus it
was that the little black boy of Mohammed's came to be called Kalulu.

The Expedition is increasing in numbers.

We had quite an alarm before dark. Much firing was heard at Tabora,
which led us to anticipate an attack on Kwihara. It turned out, however,
to be a salute fired in honour of the arrival of Sultan Kitambi to pay a
visit to Mkasiwa, Sultan of Unyanyembe.

September 8th.--Towards night Sheikh bin Nasib received a letter from
an Arab at Mfuto, reporting that an attack was made on that place by
Mirambo and his Watuta allies. It also warned him to bid the people of
Kwihara hold themselves in readiness, because if Mirambo succeeded in
storming Mfuto, he would march direct on Kwihara.

September 9th.--Mirambo was defeated with severe loss yesterday, in his
attack upon Mfuto. He was successful in an assault he made upon a
small Wanyamwezi village, but when he attempted to storm Mfuto, he
was repulsed with severe loss, losing three of his principal men. Upon
withdrawing his forces from the attack, the inhabitants sallied out, and
followed him to the forest of Umanda, where he was again utterly routed,
himself ingloriously flying from the field.

The heads of his chief men slain in the attack were brought to Kwikuru,
the boma of Mkasiwa.

September 14th.--The Arab boy Selim is delirious from constant fever.
Shaw is sick again. These two occupy most of my time. I am turned into a
regular nurse, for I have no one to assist me in attending upon them. If
I try to instruct Abdul Kader in the art of being useful, his head is so
befogged with the villainous fumes of Unyamwezi tobacco, that he wanders
bewildered about, breaking dishes, and upsetting cooked dainties, until
I get so exasperated that my peace of mind is broken completely for
a full hour. If I ask Ferajji, my now formally constituted cook, to
assist, his thick wooden head fails to receive an idea, and I am thus
obliged to play the part of chef de cuisine.

September 15th.--The third month of my residence in Unyanyembe is almost
finished, and I am still here, but I hope to be gone before the 23rd
inst.

All last night, until nine A.M. this morning, my soldiers danced and
sang to the names of their dead comrades, whose bones now bleach in the
forests of Wilyankuru. Two or three huge pots of pombe failed to satisfy
the raging thirst which the vigorous exercise they were engaged in,
created. So, early this morning, I was called upon to contribute a
shukka for another potful of the potent liquor.

To-day I was busy selecting the loads for each soldier and pagazi. In
order to lighten their labor as much as possible, I reduced each load
from 70 lbs. to 50 lbs., by which I hope to be enabled to make some long
marches. I have been able to engage ten pagazis during the last two or
three days.

I have two or three men still very sick, and it is almost useless to
expect that they will be able to carry anything, but I am in hopes that
other men may be engaged to take their places before the actual day of
departure, which now seems to be drawing near rapidly.

September 16th.--We have almost finished our work--on the fifth day from
this--God willing--we shall march. I engaged two more pagazis besides
two guides, named Asmani and Mabruki. If vastness of the human form
could terrify any one, certainly Asmani's appearance is well calculated
to produce that effect. He stands considerably over six feet without
shoes, and has shoulders broad enough for two ordinary men.

To-morrow I mean to give the people a farewell feast, to celebrate our
departure from this forbidding and unhappy country.

September 17th.--The banquet is ended. I slaughtered two bullocks, and
had a barbacue; three sheep, two goats, and fifteen chickens, 120 lbs.
of rice, twenty large loaves of bread made of Indian corn-flour, one
hundred eggs, 10 lbs. of butter, and five gallons of sweet-milk, were
the contents of which the banquet was formed. The men invited their
friends and neighbours, and about one hundred women and children partook
of it.

After the banquet was ended, the pombe, or native beer, was brought
in in five gallon pots, and the people commenced their dance, which
continues even now as I write.

September 19th.--I had a slight attack of fever to-day, which has
postponed our departure. Selim and Shaw are both recovered.

About 8 P.M. Sheik bin Nasib came to me imploring me not to go away
to-morrow, because I was so sick. Thani Sakhburi suggested to me that I
might stay another month. In answer, I told them that white men are not
accustomed to break their words. I had said I would go, and I intended
to go.

Sheikh bin Nasib gave up all hope of inducing me to remain another day,
and he has gone away, with a promise to write to Seyd Burghash to tell
him how obstinate I am; and that I am determined to be killed. This was
a parting shot.

About 10 P.M. the fever had gone. All were asleep in the tembe but
myself, and an unutterable loneliness came on me as I reflected on my
position, and my intentions, and felt the utter lack of sympathy with me
in all around. It requires more nerve than I possess, to dispel all the
dark presentiments that come upon the mind. But probably what I call
presentiments are simply the impress on the mind of the warnings which
these false-hearted Arabs have repeated so often. This melancholy and
loneliness I feel, may probably have their origin from the same cause.
The single candle, which barely lights up the dark shade that fills the
corners of my room, is but a poor incentive to cheerfulness. I feel as
though I were imprisoned between stone walls. But why should I feel
as if baited by these stupid, slow-witted Arabs and their warnings and
croakings? I fancy a suspicion haunts my mind, as I write, that there
lies some motive behind all this. I wonder if these Arabs tell me
all these things to keep me here, in the hope that I might be induced
another time to assist them in their war with Mirambo! If they think
so, they are much mistaken, for I have taken a solemn, enduring oath,
an oath to be kept while the least hope of life remains in me, not to
be tempted to break the resolution I have formed, never to give up the
search, until I find Livingstone alive, or find his dead body; and never
to return home without the strongest possible proofs that he is alive,
or that he is dead. No living man, or living men, shall stop me, only
death can prevent me. But death--not even this; I shall not die, I will
not die, I cannot die! And something tells me, I do not know what it
is--perhaps it is the ever-living hopefulness of my own nature, perhaps
it is the natural presumption born out of an abundant and glowing
vitality, or the outcome of an overweening confidence in oneself--anyhow
and everyhow, something tells me to-night I shall find him, and--write
it larger--FIND HIM! FIND HIM! Even the words are inspiring. I feel more
happy. Have I uttered a prayer? I shall sleep calmly to-night.

I have felt myself compelled to copy out of my Diary the above notes,
as they explain, written as they are on the spot, the vicissitudes of my
"Life at Unyanyembe." To me they appear to explain far better than any
amount of descriptive writing, even of the most graphic, the nature
of the life I led. There they are, unexaggerated, in their literality,
precisely as I conceived them at the time they happened. They speak of
fevers without number to myself and men, they relate our dangers, and
little joys, our annoyances and our pleasures, as they occurred.



CHAPTER X. -- TO MRERA, UKONONGO.

     Departure from Unyanyembe.--The expedition reorganized.--
     Bombay.--Mr. Shaw returns sick to Unyanyembe.--A noble
     forest.-The fever described.--Happiness of the camp.--A
     park-land.--Herds of game and noble sport.--A mutiny.--
     Punishment of the ringleaders. Elephants.--Arrival at Mrera

The 20th of September had arrived. This was the day I had decided to cut
loose from those who tormented me with their doubts, their fears, and
beliefs, and commence the march to Ujiji by a southern route. I was very
weak from the fever that had attacked me the day before, and it was a
most injudicious act to commence a march under such circumstances. But I
had boasted to Sheikh bin Nasib that a white man never breaks his word,
and my reputation as a white man would have been ruined had I stayed
behind, or postponed the march, in consequence of feebleness.

I mustered the entire caravan outside the tembe, our flags and streamers
were unfurled, the men had their loads resting on the walls, there was
considerable shouting, and laughing, and negroidal fanfaronnade. The
Arabs had collected from curiosity's sake to see us off--all except
Sheikh bin Nasib, whom I had offended by my asinine opposition to his
wishes. The old Sheikh took to his bed, but sent his son to bear me a
last morsel of Philosophic sentimentality, which I was to treasure up as
the last words of the patriarchal Sheikh, the son of Nasib, the son of
Ali, the son of Sayf. Poor Sheikh! if thou hadst only known what was at
the bottom of this stubbornness--this ass-like determination to proceed
the wrong way--what wouldst thou then have said, 0 Sheikh? But the
Sheikh comforted himself with the thought that I might know what I was
about better than he did, which is most likely, only neither he nor any
other Arab will ever know exactly the motive that induced me to march at
all westward--when the road to the east was ever so much easier.

My braves whom I had enlisted for a rapid march somewhere, out of
Unyanyembe, were named as follows:--

1. John William Shaw, London, England.

2. Selim Heshmy, Arab.

3. Seedy Mbarak Mombay, Zanzibar.

4. Mabruki Spoke, ditto.

5. Ulimengo, ditto

6. Ambari, ditto.

7. Uledi, ditto.

8. Asmani, ditto.

9. Sarmean, ditto.

10. Kamna, ditto.

11. Zaidi, ditto.

12. Khamisi, ditto.

13. Chowpereh, Bagamoyo.

14. Kingaru, ditto.

15. Belali, ditto.

16. Ferous, Unyanyembe.

17. Rojab, Bagamoyo.

18. Mabruk Unyanyembe, Unyanyembe.

19. Mtamani, ditto.

20. Chanda, Maroro.

21. Sadala, Zanzibar.

22. Kombo, ditto.

23. Saburi the Great, Maroro.

24. Saburi the Little, ditto.

25. Marora, ditto.

26. Ferajji (the cook), Zanzibar.

27. Mabruk Saleem, Zanzibar.

28. Baraka, ditto.

29. Ibrahim, Maroro.

30. Mabruk Ferous, ditto.

31. Baruti, Bagamoyo.

32. Umgareza, Zanzibar.

33. Hamadi (the guide), ditto.

34. Asmani, ditto, ditto.

35. Mabruk, ditto ditto.

36. Hamdallah (the guide), Tabora.

37. Jumah, Zanzibar.

38. Maganga, Mkwenkwe.

39. Muccadum, Tabora.

40. Dasturi, ditto.

41. Tumayona, Ujiji.

42. Mparamoto, Ujiji.

43. Wakiri, ditto.

44. Mufu, ditto.

45. Mpepo, ditto.

46. Kapingu, Ujiji.

47. Mashishanga, ditto.

48. Muheruka, ditto.

49. Missossi, ditto.

50. Tufum Byah, ditto.

51. Majwara (boy), Uganda.

52. Belali (boy), Uemba.

53. Kalulu (boy), Lunda.

54. Abdul Kader (tailor), Malabar.


These are the men and boys whom I had chosen to be my companions on
the apparently useless mission of seeking for the lost traveller, David
Livingstone. The goods with which I had burdened them, consisted of
1,000 doti, or 4,000 yds. of cloth, six bags of beads, four loads of
ammunition, one tent, one bed and clothes, one box of medicine, sextant
and books, two loads of tea, coffee, and sugar, one load of flour
and candles, one load of canned meats, sardines, and miscellaneous
necessaries, and one load of cooking utensils.

The men were all in their places except Bombay. Bombay had gone; he
could not be found. I despatched a man to hunt him up. He was found
weeping in the arms of his Delilah.

"Why did you go away, Bombay, when you knew I intended to go, and was
waiting?"

"Oh, master, I was saying good-bye to my missis."

"Oh, indeed?"

"Yes, master; you no do it, when you go away?

"Silence, sir."

"Oh! all right."

"What is the matter with you, Bombay?"

"Oh, nuffin."

As I saw he was in a humour to pick a quarrel with me before those Arabs
who had congregated outside of my tembe to witness my departure; and as
I was not in a humour to be balked by anything that might turn up, the
consequence was, that I was obliged to thrash Bombay, an operation which
soon cooled his hot choler, but brought down on my head a loud chorus
of remonstrances from my pretended Arab friends--"Now, master, don't,
don't--stop it, master: the poor man knows better than you what he and
you may expect on the road you are now taking."

If anything was better calculated to put me in a rage than Bombay's
insolence before a crowd it was this gratuitous interference with what
I considered my own especial business; but I restrained myself, though I
told them, in a loud voice, that I did not choose to be interfered with,
unless they wished to quarrel with me.

"No, no, bana," they all exclaimed; "we do not wish to quarrel with you.
In the name of God! go on your way in peace."

"Fare you well, then," said I, shaking hands with them.

"Farewell, master, farewell. We wish you, we are sure, all success, and
God be with you, and guide you!"

"March!"

A parting salute was fired; the flags were raised up by the guides, each
pagazi rushed for his load, and in a short time, with songs and shouts,
the head of the Expedition had filed round the western end of my tembe
along the road to Ugunda.

"Now, Mr. Shaw, I am waiting, sir. Mount your donkey, if you cannot
walk."

"Please, Mr. Stanley, I am afraid I cannot go."

"Why?"

"I don't know, I am sure. I feel very weak."

"So am I weak. It was but late last night, as you know, that the fever
left me. Don't back out before these Arabs; remember you are a white
man. Here, Selim, Mabruki, Bombay, help Mr. Shaw on his donkey, and walk
by him."

"Oh, bana, bans," said the Arabs, "don't take him. Do you not see he is
sick?"

"You keep away; nothing will prevent me from taking him. He shall go."

"Go on, Bombay."

The last of my party had gone. The tembe, so lately a busy scene, had
already assumed a naked, desolate appearance. I turned towards the
Arabs, lifted my hat, and said again, "Farewell," then faced about
for the south, followed by my four young gun-bearers, Selim, Kalulu,
Majwara, and Belali.

After half an hour's march the scenery became more animated. Shaw began
to be amused. Bombay had forgotten our quarrel, and assured me, if I
could pass Mirambo's country, I should "catch the Tanganika;" Mabruki
Burton also believed we should. Selim was glad to leave Unyanyembe,
where he had suffered so much from fever; and there was a something in
the bold aspect of the hills which cropped upward--above fair valleys,
that enlivened and encouraged me to proceed.

In an hour and a half, we arrived at our camp in the Kinyamwezi village
of Mkwenkwe, the birthplace--of our famous chanter Maganga.

My tent was pitched, the goods were stored in one of the tembes; but
one-half the men had returned to Kwihara, to take one more embrace of
their wives and concubines.

Towards night I was attacked once again with the intermittent fever.
Before morning it had departed, leaving me terribly prostrated with
weakness. I had heard the men conversing with each other over their
camp-fires upon the probable prospects of the next day. It was a
question with them whether I should continue the march. Mostly all were
of opinion that, since the master was sick, there would be no march. A
superlative obstinacy, however, impelled me on, merely to spite their
supine souls; but when I sallied out of my tent to call them to get
ready, I found that at least twenty were missing; and Livingstone's
letter-carrier, "Kaif-Halek"--or, How-do-ye-do?--had not arrived with
Dr. Livingstone's letter-bag.

Selecting twenty of the strongest and faithfulest men I despatched them
back to Unyanyembe in search of the missing men; and Selim was sent to
Sheikh bin Nasib to borrow, or buy, a long slave-chain.

Towards night my twenty detectives returned with nine of the missing
men. The Wajiji had deserted in a body, and they could not be found.
Selim also returned with a strong chain, capable of imprisoning within
the collars attached to it at least ten men. Kaif-Halek also appeared
with the letter-bag which he was to convey to Livingstone under my
escort. The men were then addressed, and the slave-chain exhibited
to them. I told them that I was the first white man who had taken a
slave-chain with him on his travels; but, as they were all so frightened
of accompanying me, I was obliged to make use of it, as it was the only
means of keeping them together. The good need never fear being chained
by me--only the deserters, the thieves, who received their hire and
presents, guns and ammunition, and then ran away.

I would not put any one this time in chains; but whoever deserted after
this day, I should halt, and not continue the march till I found him,
after which he should march to Ujiji with the slave-chain round
his neck. "Do you hear?"--"Yes," was the answer. "Do you
understand?"--"Yes."

We broke up camp at 6 P.M., and took the road for Inesuka, at which
place we arrived at 8 P.M.

When we were about commencing the march the next morning, it was
discovered that two more had deserted. Baraka and Bombay were at once
despatched to Unyanyembe to bring back the two missing men--Asmani and
Kingaru--with orders not to return without them. This was the third
time that the latter had deserted, as the reader may remember. While the
pursuit was being effected we halted at the village of Inesuka, more for
the sake of Shaw than any one else.

In the evening the incorrigible deserters were brought back, and, as I
had threatened, were well flogged and chained, to secure them against
further temptation. Bombay and Baraka had a picturesque story to relate
of the capture; and, as I was in an exceedingly good humour, their
services were rewarded with a fine cloth each.

On the following morning another carrier had absconded, taking with
him his hire of fifteen new cloths and a gun but to halt anywhere
near Unyanyembe any longer was a danger that could be avoided only by
travelling without stoppages towards the southern jungle-lands. It will
be remembered I had in my train the redoubtable Abdul Kader, the tailor,
he who had started from Bagamoyo with such bright anticipations of the
wealth of ivory to be obtained in the great interior of Africa. On this
morning, daunted by the reports of the dangers ahead, Abdul Kader
craved to be discharged. He vowed he was sick, and unable to proceed any
further. As I was pretty well tired of him, I paid him off in cloth, and
permitted him to go.

About half way to Kasegera Mabruk Saleem was suddenly taken sick. I
treated him with a grain of calomel, and a couple of ounces of brandy.
As he was unable to walk, I furnished him with a donkey. Another man
named Zaidi was ill with a rheumatic fever; and Shaw tumbled twice off
the animal he was riding, and required an infinite amount of coaxing to
mount again. Verily, my expedition was pursued by adverse fortunes,
and it seemed as if the Fates had determined upon our return. It really
appeared as if everything was going to wreck and ruin. If I were only
fifteen days from Unyanyembe, thought I, I should be saved!

Kasegera was a scene of rejoicing the afternoon and evening of our
arrival. Absentees had just returned from the coast, and the youths were
brave in their gaudy bedizenment, their new barsatis, their soharis, and
long cloths of bright new kaniki, with which they had adorned themselves
behind some bush before they had suddenly appeared dressed in all this
finery. The women "Hi-hi'ed" like maenads, and the "Lu-lu-lu'ing" was
loud, frequent, and fervent the whole of that afternoon. Sylphlike
damsels looked up to the youthful heroes with intensest admiration
on their features; old women coddled and fondled them; staff-using,
stooping-backed patriarchs blessed them. This is fame in Unyamwezi! All
the fortunate youths had to use their tongues until the wee hours of
next morning had arrived, relating all the wonders they had seen near
the Great Sea, and in the "Unguja," the island of Zanzibar; of how they
saw great white men's ships, and numbers of white men, of their perils
and trials during their journey through the land of the fierce Wagogo,
and divers other facts, with which the reader and I are by this time
well acquainted.

On the 24th we struck camp, and marched through a forest of imbiti wood
in a S.S.W. direction, and in about three hours came to Kigandu.

On arriving before this village, which is governed by a daughter of
Mkasiwa, we were informed we could not enter unless we paid toll. As we
would not pay toll, we were compelled to camp in a ruined, rat-infested
boma, situated a mile to the left of Kigandu, being well scolded by the
cowardly natives for deserting Mkasiwa in his hour of extremity. We were
accused of running away from the war.

Almost on the threshold of our camp Shaw, in endeavouring to dismount,
lost his stirrups, and fell prone on his face. The foolish fellow
actually, laid on the ground in the hot sun a full hour; and when I
coldly asked him if he did not feel rather uncomfortable, he sat up, and
wept like a child.

"Do you wish to go back, Mr. Shaw?"

"If you please. I do not believe I can go any farther; and if you would
only be kind enough, I should like to return very much."

"Well, Mr. Shaw, I have come to the conclusion that it is best, you
should return. My patience is worn out. I have endeavoured faithfully to
lift you above these petty miseries which you nourish so devotedly. You
are simply suffering from hypochondria. You imagine yourself sick,
and nothing, evidently, will persuade you that you are not. Mark my
words--to return to Unyanyembe, is to DIE! Should you happen to fall
sick in Kwihara who knows how to administer medicine to you? Supposing
you are delirious, how can any of the soldiers know what you want, or
what is beneficial and necessary for you? Once again, I repeat, if you
return, you DIE!"

"Ah, dear me; I wish I had never ventured to come! I thought life in
Africa was so different from this. I would rather go back if you will
permit me."

The next day was a halt, and arrangements were made for the
transportation of Shaw back to Kwihara. A strong litter was made, and
four stout pagazis were hired at Kigandu to carry him. Bread was baked,
a canteen was filled with cold tea, and a leg of a kid was roasted for
his sustenance while on the road.

The night before we parted we spent together. Shaw played some tunes on
an accordion which I had purchased for him at Zanzibar; but, though
it was only a miserable ten-dollar affair, I thought the homely tunes
evoked from the instrument that night were divine melodies. The last
tune played before retiring was "Home, sweet Home."

The morning of the 27th we were all up early: There was considerable vis
in our movements. A long, long march lay before us that day; but then
I was to leave behind all the sick and ailing. Only those who were
healthy, and could march fast and long, were to accompany me. Mabruk
Saleem I left in charge of a native doctor, who was to medicate him for
a gift of cloth which I gave him in advance.

The horn sounded to get ready. Shaw was lifted in his litter on the
shoulders of his carriers. My men formed two ranks; the flags were
lifted; and between these two living rows, and under those bright
streamers, which were to float over the waters of the Tanganika before
he should see them again, Shaw was borne away towards the north; while
we filed off to the south, with quicker and more elastic steps, as if we
felt an incubus had been taken from us.

We ascended a ridge bristling with syenite boulders of massive size,
appearing above a forest of dwarf trees. The view which we saw was
similar to that we had often seen elsewhere. An illimitable forest
stretching in grand waves far beyond the ken of vision--ridges,
forest-clad, rising gently one above another until they receded in the
dim purple-blue distance--with a warm haze floating above them, which,
though clear enough in our neighbourhood, became impenetrably blue in
the far distance. Woods, woods, woods, leafy branches, foliage globes,
or parachutes, green, brown, or sere in colour, forests one above
another, rising, falling, and receding--a very leafy ocean. The horizon,
at all points, presents the same view, there may be an indistinct
outline of a hill far away, or here and there a tall tree higher than
the rest conspicuous in its outlines against the translucent sky--with
this exception it is the same--the same clear sky dropping into the
depths of the forest, the same outlines, the same forest, the same
horizon, day after day, week after week; we hurry to the summit of a
ridge, expectant of a change, but the wearied eyes, after wandering over
the vast expanse, return to the immediate surroundings, satiated with
the eversameness of such scenes. Carlyle, somewhere in his writings,
says, that though the Vatican is great, it is but the chip of an
eggshell compared to the star-fretted dome where Arcturus and Orion
glance for ever; and I say that, though the grove of Central Park, New
York, is grand compared to the thin groves seen in other great cities,
that though the Windsor and the New Forests may be very fine and noble
in England, yet they are but fagots of sticks compared to these eternal
forests of Unyamwezi.

We marched three hours, and then halted for refreshments. I perceived
that the people were very tired, not yet inured to a series of long
marches, or rather, not in proper trim for earnest, hard work after our
long rest in Kwihara. When we resumed our march again there were several
manifestations of bad temper and weariness. But a few good-natured
remarks about their laziness put them on their mettle, and we reached
Ugunda at 2 P.M. after another four hours' spurt.

Ugunda is a very large village in the district of Ugunda, which adjoins
the southern frontier of Unyanyembe. The village probably numbers four
hundred families, or two thousand souls. It is well protected by a tall
and strong palisade of three-inch timber. Stages have been erected at
intervals above the palisades with miniature embrasures in the timber,
for the muskets of the sharpshooters, who take refuge within these
box-like stages to pick out the chiefs of an attacking force. An inner
ditch, with the sand or soil thrown up three or four feet high against
the palings, serves as protection for the main body of the defenders,
who kneel in the ditch, and are thus enabled to withstand a very large
force. For a mile or two outside the village all obstructions are
cleared, and the besieged are thus warned by sharp-eyed watchers to
be prepared for the defence before the enemy approaches within
musket range. Mirambo withdrew his force of robbers from before this
strongly-defended village after two or three ineffectual attempts to
storm it, and the Wagunda have been congratulating themselves ever
since, upon having driven away the boldest marauder that Unyamwezi has
seen for generations.

The Wagunda have about three thousand acres under cultivation around
their principal village, and this area suffices to produce sufficient
grain not only for their own consumption, but also for the many caravans
which pass by this way for Ufipa and Marungu.

However brave the Wagunda may be within the strong enclosure with which
they have surrounded their principal village, they are not exempt from
the feeling of insecurity which fills the soul of a Mnyamwezi during
war-time. At this place the caravans are accustomed to recruit their
numbers from the swarms of pagazis who volunteer to accompany them to
the distant ivory regions south; but I could not induce a soul to follow
me, so great was their fear of Mirambo and his Ruga-Raga. They were also
full of rumors of wars ahead. It was asserted that Mbogo was advancing
towards Ugunda with a thousand Wakonongo, that the Wazavira had attacked
a caravan four months previously, that Simba was scouring the country
with a band of ferocious mercenaries, and much more of the same nature
and to the same intent.

On the 28th we arrived at a small snug village embosomed within the
forest called Benta, three hours and a quarter from Ugunda. The road led
through the cornfields of the Wagunda, and then entered the clearings
around the villages of Kisari, within one of which we found the
proprietor of a caravan who was drumming up carriers for Ufipa. He had
been halted here two months, and he made strenuous exertions to induce
my men to join his caravan, a proceeding that did not tend to promote
harmony between us. A few days afterwards I found, on my return, that
he had given up the idea of proceeding south. Leaving Kisari, we marched
through a thin jungle of black jack, over sun-cracked ground with here
and there a dried-up pool, the bottom of which was well tramped by
elephant and rhinoceros. Buffalo and zebra tracks were now frequent, and
we were buoyed up with the hope that before long we should meet game.

Benta was well supplied with Indian corn and a grain which the natives
called choroko, which I take to be vetches. I purchased a large supply
of choroko for my own personal use, as I found it to be a most healthy
food. The corn was stored on the flat roofs of the tembes in huge boxes
made out of the bark of the mtundu-tree. The largest box I have ever
seen in Africa was seen here. It might be taken for a Titan's hat-box;
it was seven feet in diameter, and ten feet in height.

On the 29th, after travelling in a S.W. by S. direction, we reached
Kikuru. The march lasted for five hours over sun-cracked plains, growing
the black jack, and ebony, and dwarf shrubs, above which numerous
ant-hills of light chalky-coloured earth appeared like sand dunes.

The mukunguru, a Kisawahili term for fever, is frequent in this region
of extensive forests and flat plains, owing to the imperfect drainage
provided by nature for them. In the dry season there is nothing very
offensive in the view of the country. The burnt grass gives rather a
sombre aspect to the country, covered with the hard-baked tracks of
animals which haunt these plains during the latter part of the rainy
season. In the forest numbers of trees lie about in the last stages of
decay, and working away with might and main on the prostrate trunks may
be seen numberless insects of various species. Impalpably, however, the
poison of the dead and decaying vegetation is inhaled into the system
with a result sometimes as fatal as that which is said to arise from the
vicinity of the Upas-tree.

The first evil results experienced from the presence of malaria are
confined bowels and an oppressive languor, excessive drowsiness, and
a constant disposition to yawn. The tongue assumes a yellowish, sickly
hue, coloured almost to blackness; even the teeth become yellow, and
are coated with an offensive matter. The eyes of the patient sparkle
lustrously, and become suffused with water. These are sure symptoms of
the incipient fever which shortly will rage through the system.

Sometimes this fever is preceded by a violent shaking fit, during which
period blankets may be heaped on the patient's form, with but little
amelioration of the deadly chill he feels. It is then succeeded by an
unusually severe headache, with excessive pains about the loins and
spinal column, which presently will spread over the shoulder-blades,
and, running up the neck, find a final lodgment in the back and front
of the head. Usually, however, the fever is not preceded by a chill,
but after languor and torpitude have seized him, with excessive heat and
throbbing temples, the loin and spinal column ache, and raging thirst
soon possesses him. The brain becomes crowded with strange fancies,
which sometimes assume most hideous shapes. Before the darkened vision
of the suffering man, float in a seething atmosphere, figures of created
and uncreated reptiles, which are metamorphosed every instant into
stranger shapes and designs, growing every moment more confused, more
complicated, more hideous and terrible. Unable to bear longer the
distracting scene, he makes an effort and opens, his eyes, and dissolves
the delirious dream, only, however, to glide again unconsciously
into another dream-land where another unreal inferno is dioramically
revealed, and new agonies suffered. Oh! the many many hours, that I have
groaned under the terrible incubi which the fits of real delirium evoke.
Oh! the racking anguish of body that a traveller in Africa must
undergo! Oh! the spite, the fretfulness, the vexation which the horrible
phantasmagoria of diabolisms induce! The utmost patience fails to
appease, the most industrious attendance fails to gratify, the deepest
humility displeases. During these terrible transitions, which induce
fierce distraction, Job himself would become irritable, insanely
furious, and choleric. A man in such a state regards himself as the
focus of all miseries. When recovered, he feels chastened, becomes
urbane and ludicrously amiable, he conjures up fictitious delights from
all things which, but yesterday, possessed for him such awful portentous
aspects. His men he regards with love and friendship; whatever is trite
he views with ecstasy. Nature appears charming; in the dead woods and
monotonous forest his mind becomes overwhelmed with delight. I speak
for myself, as a careful analysation of the attack, in all its severe,
plaintive, and silly phases, appeared to me. I used to amuse myself
with taking notes of the humorous and the terrible, the fantastic and
exaggerated pictures that were presented to me--even while suffering the
paroxysms induced by fever.

We arrived at a large pool, known as the Ziwani, after a four hours'
march in a S.S.W. direction, the 1st of October. We discovered an old
half-burnt khambi, sheltered by a magnificent mkuyu (sycamore), the
giant of the forests of Unyamwezi, which after an hour we transformed
into a splendid camp.

If I recollect rightly, the stem of the tree measured thirty-eight
feet in circumference. It is the finest tree of its kind I have seen
in Africa. A regiment might with perfect ease have reposed under this
enormous dome of foliage during a noon halt. The diameter of the shadow
it cast on the ground was one hundred and twenty feet. The healthful
vigor that I was enjoying about this time enabled me to regard my
surroundings admiringly. A feeling of comfort and perfect contentment
took possession of me, such as I knew not while fretting at Unyanyembe,
wearing my life away in inactivity. I talked with my people as to my
friends and equals. We argued with each other about our prospects in
quite a companionable, sociable vein.

When daylight was dying, and the sun was sinking down rapidly over the
western horizon, vividly painting the sky with the colours of gold
and silver, saffron, and opal, when its rays and gorgeous tints were
reflected upon the tops of the everlasting forest, with the quiet and
holy calm of heaven resting upon all around, and infusing even into the
untutored minds of those about me the exquisite enjoyments of such a
life as we were now leading in the depths of a great expanse of forest,
the only and sole human occupants of it--this was the time, after our
day's work was ended, and the camp was in a state of perfect security,
when we all would produce our pipes, and could best enjoy the labors
which we had performed, and the contentment which follows a work well
done.

Outside nothing is heard beyond the cry of a stray florican, or
guinea-fowl, which has lost her mate, or the hoarse croaking of the
frogs in the pool hard by, or the song of the crickets which seems to
lull the day to rest; inside our camp are heard the gurgles of the
gourd pipes as the men inhale the blue ether, which I also love. I am
contented and happy, stretched on my carpet under the dome of living
foliage, smoking my short meerschaum, indulging in thoughts--despite the
beauty of the still grey light of the sky; and of the air of serenity
which prevails around--of home and friends in distant America, and these
thoughts soon change to my work--yet incomplete--to the man who to me is
yet a myth, who, for all I know, may be dead, or may be near or far from
me tramping through just such a forest, whose tops I see bound the
view outside my camp. We are both on the same soil, perhaps in the same
forest--who knows?--yet is he to me so far removed that he might as well
be in his own little cottage of Ulva. Though I am even now ignorant
of his very existence, yet I feel a certain complacency, a certain
satisfaction which would be difficult to describe. Why is man so feeble,
and weak, that he must tramp, tramp hundreds of miles to satisfy
the doubts his impatient and uncurbed mind feels? Why cannot my form
accompany the bold flights of my mind and satisfy the craving I feel to
resolve the vexed question that ever rises to my lips--"Is he alive?"
O soul of mine, be patient, thou hast a felicitous tranquillity, which
other men might envy thee! Sufficient for the hour is the consciousness
thou hast that thy mission is a holy one! Onward, and be hopeful!

Monday, the 2nd of October, found us traversing the forest and plain
that extends from the Ziwani to Manyara, which occupied us six and a
half hours. The sun was intensely hot; but the mtundu and miombo trees
grew at intervals, just enough to admit free growth to each tree, while
the blended foliage formed a grateful shade. The path was clear and
easy, the tamped and firm red soil offered no obstructions. The only
provocation we suffered was from the attacks of the tsetse, or panga
(sword) fly, which swarmed here. We knew we were approaching an
extensive habitat of game, and we were constantly on the alert for any
specimens that might be inhabiting these forests.

While we were striding onward, at the rate of nearly three miles an
hour, the caravan I perceived sheered off from the road, resuming it
about fifty yards ahead of something on the road, to which the attention
of the men was directed. On coming up, I found the object to be the
dead body of a man, who had fallen a victim to that fearful scourge
of Africa, the small-pox. He was one of Oseto's gang of marauders, or
guerillas, in the service of Mkasiwa of Unyanyembe, who were hunting
these forests for the guerillas of Mirambo. They had been returning from
Ukonongo from a raid they had instituted against the Sultan of Mbogo,
and they had left their comrade to perish in the road. He had apparently
been only one day dead.

Apropos of this, it was a frequent thing with us to discover a skeleton
or a skull on the roadside. Almost every day we saw one, sometimes two,
of these relics of dead, and forgotten humanity.

Shortly after this we emerged from the forest, and entered a mbuga, or
plain, in which we saw a couple of giraffes, whose long necks were seen
towering above a bush they had been nibbling at. This sight was greeted
with a shout; for we now knew we had entered the game country, and that
near the Gombe creek, or river, where we intended to halt, we should see
plenty of these animals.

A walk of three hours over this hot plain brought us to the cultivated
fields of Manyara. Arriving before the village-gate, we were forbidden
to enter, as the country was throughout in a state of war, and it
behoved them to be very careful of admitting any party, lest the
villagers might be compromised. We were, however, directed to a khambi
to the right of the village, near some pools of clear water, where we
discovered some half dozen ruined huts, which looked very uncomfortable
to tired people.

After we had built our camp, the kirangozi was furnished with some
cloths to purchase food from the village for the transit of a wilderness
in front of us, which was said to extend nine marches, or 135 miles.
He was informed that the Mtemi had strictly prohibited his people from
selling any grain whatever.

This evidently was a case wherein the exercise of a little diplomacy
could only be effective; because it would detain us several days here,
if we were compelled to send men back to Kikuru for provisions. Opening
a bale of choice goods, I selected two royal cloths, and told Bombay to
carry them to him, with the compliments and friendship of the white man.
The Sultan sulkily refused them, and bade him return to the white man
and tell him not to bother him. Entreaties were of no avail, he would
not relent; and the men, in exceedingly bad temper, and hungry, were
obliged to go to bed supperless. The words of Njara, a slave-trader,
and parasite of the great Sheikh bin Nasib, recurred to me. "Ah, master,
master, you will find the people will be too much for you, and that you
will have to return. The Wa-manyara are bad, the Wakonongo are very bad,
the Wazavira are the worst of all. You have come to this country at a
bad time. It is war everywhere." And, indeed, judging from the tenor
of the conversations around our camp-fires, it seemed but too evident.
There was every prospect of a general decamp of all my people. However,
I told them not to be discouraged; that I would get food for them in the
morning.

The bale of choice cloths was opened again next morning, and four royal
cloths were this time selected, and two dotis of Merikani, and Bombay
was again despatched, burdened with compliments, and polite words.

It was necessary to be very politic with a man who was so surly, and too
powerful to make an enemy of. What if he made up his mind to imitate
the redoubtable Mirambo, King of Uyoweh! The effect of my munificent
liberality was soon seen in the abundance of provender which came to my
camp. Before an hour went by, there came boxes full of choroko, beans,
rice, matama or dourra, and Indian corn, carried on the heads of a dozen
villagers, and shortly after the Mtemi himself came, followed by about
thirty musketeers and twenty spearmen, to visit the first white man
ever seen on this road. Behind these warriors came a liberal gift, fully
equal in value to that sent to him, of several large gourds of honey,
fowls, goats, and enough vetches and beans to supply my men with four
days' food.

I met the chief at the gate of my camp, and bowing profoundly, invited
him to my tent, which I had arranged as well as my circumstances would
permit, for this reception. My Persian carpet and bear skin were spread
out, and a broad piece of bran-new crimson cloth covered my kitanda, or
bedstead.

The chief, a tall robust man, and his chieftains, were invited to seat
themselves. They cast a look of such gratified surprise at myself, at
my face, my clothes, and guns, as is almost impossible to describe. They
looked at me intently for a few seconds, and then at each other, which
ended in an uncontrollable burst of laughter, and repeated snappings
of the fingers. They spoke the Kinyamwezi language, and my interpreter
Maganga was requested to inform the chief of the great delight I felt in
seeing them. After a short period expended in interchanging compliments,
and a competitive excellence at laughing at one another, their chief
desired me to show him my guns. The "sixteen-shooter," the Winchester
rifle, elicited a thousand flattering observations from the excited man;
and the tiny deadly revolvers, whose beauty and workmanship they thought
were superhuman, evoked such gratified eloquence that I was fain to try
something else. The double-barrelled guns fired with heavy charges of
power, caused them to jump up in affected alarm, and then to subside
into their seats convulsed with laughter. As the enthusiasm of my guests
increased, they seized each other's index fingers, screwed them, and
pulled at them until I feared they would end in their dislocation. After
having explained to them the difference between white men and Arabs, I
pulled out my medicine chest, which evoked another burst of rapturous
sighs at the cunning neatness of the array of vials. He asked what they
meant.

"Dowa," I replied sententiously, a word which may be
interpreted--medicine.

"Oh-h, oh-h," they murmured admiringly. I succeeded, before long, in
winning unqualified admiration, and my superiority, compared to the
best of the Arabs they had seen, was but too evident. "Dowa, dowa," they
added.

"Here," said I, uncorking a vial of medicinal brandy, "is the Kisungu
pombe" (white man's beer); "take a spoonful and try it," at the same
time handing it.

"Hacht, hacht, oh, hacht! what! eh! what strong beer the white men
have! Oh, how my throat burns!"

"Ah, but it is good," said I, "a little of it makes men feel strong, and
good; but too much of it makes men bad, and they die."

"Let me have some," said one of the chiefs; "and me," "and me," "and
me," as soon as each had tasted.

"I next produced a bottle of concentrated ammonia, which as I explained
was for snake bites, and head-aches; the Sultan immediately complained
he had a head-ache, and must have a little. Telling him to close his
eyes, I suddenly uncorked the bottle, and presented it to His Majesty's
nose. The effect was magical, for he fell back as if shot, and such
contortions as his features underwent are indescribable. His chiefs
roared with laughter, and clapped their hands, pinched each other,
snapped their fingers, and committed many other ludicrous things. I
verily believe if such a scene were presented on any stage in the world
the effect of it would be visible instantaneously on the audience; that
had they seen it as I saw it, they would have laughed themselves to
hysteria and madness. Finally the Sultan recovered himself, great tears
rolling down his cheeks, and his features quivering with laughter,
then he slowly uttered the word 'kali,'--hot, strong, quick, or ardent
medicine. He required no more, but the other chiefs pushed forward
to get one wee sniff, which they no sooner had, than all went into
paroxysms of uncontrollable laughter. The entire morning was passed in
this state visit, to the mutual satisfaction of all concerned. 'Oh,'
said the Sultan at parting, 'these white men know everything, the Arabs
are dirt compared to them!'"

That night Hamdallah, one of the guides, deserted, carrying with him his
hire (27 doti), and a gun. It was useless to follow him in the morning,
as it would have detained me many more days than I could afford; but
I mentally vowed that Mr. Hamdallah should work out those 27 doti of
cloths before I reached the coast.

Wednesday, October 4th, saw us travelling to the Gombe River, which is 4
h. 15 m. march from Manyara.

We had barely left the waving cornfields of my friend Ma-manyara before
we came in sight of a herd of noble zebra; two hours afterwards we
had entered a grand and noble expanse of park land, whose glorious
magnificence and vastness of prospect, with a far-stretching carpet of
verdure darkly flecked here and there by miniature clumps of jungle,
with spreading trees growing here and there, was certainly one of the
finest scenes to be seen in Africa. Added to which, as I surmounted one
of the numerous small knolls, I saw herds after herds of buffalo and
zebra, giraffe and antelope, which sent the blood coursing through my
veins in the excitement of the moment, as when I first landed on African
soil. We crept along the plain noiselessly to our camp on the banks of
the sluggish waters of the Gombe.

Here at last was the hunter's Paradise! How petty and insignificant
appeared my hunts after small antelope and wild boar what a foolish
waste of energies those long walks through damp grasses and through
thorny jungles! Did I not well remember ' my first bitter experience
in African jungles when in the maritime region! But this--where is
the nobleman's park that can match this scene? Here is a soft, velvety
expanse of young grass, grateful shade under those spreading clumps;
herds of large and varied game browsing within easy rifle range. Surely
I must feel amply compensated now for the long southern detour I have
made, when such a prospect as this opens to the view! No thorny jungles
and rank smelling swamps are here to daunt the hunter, and to sicken
his aspirations after true sport! No hunter could aspire after a nobler
field to display his prowess.

Having settled the position of the camp, which overlooked one of
the pools found in the depression of the Gombe creek, I took my
double-barrelled smooth-bore, and sauntered off to the park-land.
Emerging from behind a clump, three fine plump spring-bok were seen
browsing on the young grass just within one hundred yards. I knelt down
and fired; one unfortunate antelope bounded upward instinctively, and
fell dead. Its companions sprang high into the air, taking leaps about
twelve feet in length, as if they were quadrupeds practising gymnastics,
and away they vanished, rising up like India-rubber balls; until a
knoll hid them from view. My success was hailed with loud shouts by the
soldiers; who came running out from the camp as soon as they heard the
reverberation of the gun, and my gun-bearer had his knife at the beast's
throat, uttering a fervent "Bismillah!" as he almost severed the head
from the body.

Hunters were now directed to proceed east and north to procure meat,
because in each caravan it generally happens that there are fundi, whose
special trade it is to hunt for meat for the camp. Some of these are
experts in stalking, but often find themselves in dangerous positions,
owing to the near approach necessary, before they can fire their most
inaccurate weapons with any certainty.

After luncheon, consisting of spring-bok steak, hot corn-cake, and a
cup of delicious Mocha coffee, I strolled towards the south-west,
accompanied by Kalulu and Majwara, two boy gun-bearers. The tiny
perpusilla started up like rabbits from me as I stole along through the
underbrush; the honey-bird hopped from tree to tree chirping its
call, as if it thought I was seeking the little sweet treasure, the
hiding-place of which it only knew; but no! I neither desired perpusilla
nor the honey. I was on the search for something great this day.
Keen-eyed fish-eagles and bustards poised on trees above the sinuous
Gombe thought, and probably with good reason that I was after them;
judging by the ready flight with which both species disappeared as they
sighted my approach. Ah, no! nothing but hartebeest, zebra, giraffe,
eland, and buffalo this day! After following the Gombe's course for
about a mile, delighting my eyes with long looks at the broad and
lengthy reaches of water to which I was so long a stranger, I came upon
a scene which delighted the innermost recesses of my soul; five, six,
seven, eight, ten zebras switching their beautiful striped bodies, and
biting one another, within about one hundred and fifty yards. The scene
was so pretty, so romantic, never did I so thoroughly realize that I
was in Central Africa. I felt momentarily proud that I owned such a vast
domain, inhabited with such noble beasts. Here I possessed, within reach
of a leaden ball, any one I chose of the beautiful animals, the pride of
the African forests! It was at my option to shoot any of them! Mine they
were without money or without price; yet, knowing this, twice I dropped
my rifle, loth to wound the royal beasts, but--crack! and a royal one
was on his back battling the air with his legs. Ah, it was such a
pity! but, hasten, draw the keen sharp-edged knife across the beautiful
stripes which fold around the throat; and--what an ugly gash! it is
done, and 1 have a superb animal at my feet. Hurrah! I shall taste of
Ukonongo zebra to-night.

I thought a spring-bok and zebra enough for one day's sport, especially
after a long march. The Gombe, a long stretch of deep water, winding in
and out of green groves, calm, placid, with lotus leaves lightly resting
on its surface, all pretty, picturesque, peaceful as a summer's dream,
looked very inviting for a bath. I sought out the most shady spot under
a wide-spreading mimosa, from which the ground sloped smooth as a
lawn, to the still, clear water. I ventured to undress, and had already
stepped in to my ancles in the water, and had brought my hands together
for a glorious dive, when my attention was attracted by an enormously
long body which shot into view, occupying the spot beneath the surface
that I was about to explore by a "header." Great heavens, it was
a crocodile! I sprang backward instinctively, and this proved my
salvation, for the monster turned away with the most disappointed look,
and I was left to congratulate myself upon my narrow escape from his
jaws, and to register a vow never to be tempted again by the treacherous
calm of an African river.

As soon as I had dressed I turned away from the now repulsive aspect of
the stream. In strolling through the jungle, towards my camp, I detected
the forms of two natives looking sharply about them, and, after bidding
my young attendants to preserve perfect quiet, I crept on towards them,
and, by the aid of a thick clump of underbush, managed to arrive within
a few feet of the natives undetected. Their mere presence in the immense
forest, unexplained, was a cause of uneasiness in the then disturbed
state of the country, and my intention was to show myself suddenly to
them, and note its effect, which, if it betokened anything hostile to
the Expedition, could without difficulty be settled at once, with the
aid of my double-barrelled smooth-bore.

As I arrived on one side of this bush, the two suspicious-looking
natives arrived on the other side, and we were separated by only a
few feet. I made a bound, and we were face to face. The natives cast a
glance at the sudden figure of a white man, and seemed petrified for a
moment, but then, recovering themselves, they shrieked out, "Bana, bana,
you don't know us. We are Wakonongo, who came to your camp to accompany
you to Mrera, and we are looking for honey."

"Oh, to be sure, you are the Wakonongo. Yes--Yes. Ah, it is all right
now, I thought you might be Ruga-Ruga."

So the two parties, instead of being on hostile terms with each other,
burst out laughing. The Wakonongo enjoyed it very much, and laughed
heartily as they proceeded on their way to search for the wild honey.
On a piece of bark they carried a little fire with which they smoked the
bees out from their nest in the great mtundu-trees.

The adventures of the day were over; the azure of the sky had changed
to a dead grey; the moon was appearing just over the trees; the water
of the Gombe was like a silver belt; hoarse frogs bellowed their
notes loudly by the margin of the creek; the fish-eagles uttered their
dirge-like cries as they were perched high on the tallest tree; elands
snorted their warning to the herds in the forest; stealthy forms of the
carnivora stole through the dark woods outside of our camp. Within the
high inclosure of bush and thorn, which we had raised around our camp,
all was jollity, laughter, and radiant, genial comfort. Around every
camp-fire dark forms of men were seen squatted: one man gnawed at a
luscious bone; another sucked the rich marrow in a zebra's leg-bone;
another turned the stick, garnished with huge kabobs, to the bright
blaze; another held a large rib over a flame; there were others busy
stirring industriously great black potfuls of ugali, and watching
anxiously the meat simmering, and the soup bubbling, while the
fire-light flickered and danced bravely, and cast a bright glow over the
naked forms of the men, and gave a crimson tinge to the tall tent that
rose in the centre of the camp, like a temple sacred to some mysterious
god; the fires cast their reflections upon the massive arms of the
trees, as they branched over our camp, and, in the dark gloom of their
foliage, the most fantastic shadows were visible. Altogether it was
a wild, romantic, and impressive scene. But little recked my men for
shadows and moonlight, for crimson tints, and temple-like tents--they
were all busy relating their various experiences, and gorging themselves
with the rich meats our guns had obtained for us. One was telling how he
had stalked a wild boar, and the furious onset the wounded animal made
on him, causing him to drop his gun, and climb a tree, and the terrible
grunt of the beast he well remembered, and the whole welkin rang with
the peals of laughter which his mimic powers evoked. Another had shot a
buffalo-calf, and another had bagged a hartebeest; the Wakonongo related
their laughable rencontre with me in the woods, and were lavish in their
description of the stores of honey to be found in the woods; and all
this time Selim and his youthful subs were trying their sharp teeth on
the meat of a young pig which one of the hunters had shot, but which
nobody else would eat, because of the Mohammedan aversion to pig, which
they had acquired during their transformation from negro savagery to the
useful docility of the Zanzibar freed-man.

We halted the two following days, and made frequent raids on the herds
of this fine country. The first day I was fairly successful again in
the sport. I bagged a couple of antelopes, a kudu (A. strepsiceros) with
fine twisting horns, and a pallah-buck (A. melampus), a reddish-brown
animal, standing about three and a half feet, with broad posteriors.
I might have succeeded in getting dozens of animals had I any of those
accurate, heavy rifles manufactured by Lancaster, Reilly, or Blissett,
whose every shot tells. But my weapons, save my light smoothbore,
were unfit for African game. My weapons were more for men. With the
Winchester rifle, and the Starr's carbine, I was able to hit anything
within two hundred yards, but the animals, though wounded, invariably
managed to escape the knife, until I was disgusted with the pea-bullets.
What is wanted for this country is a heavy bore--No. 10 or 12 is the
real bone-crusher--that will drop every animal shot in its tracks, by
which all fatigue and disappointment are avoided. Several times during
these two days was I disappointed after most laborious stalking and
creeping along the ground. Once I came suddenly upon an eland while
I had a Winchester rifle in my hand--the eland and myself mutually
astonished--at not more than twenty-five yards apart. I fired at its
chest, and bullet, true to its aim, sped far into the internal parts,
and the blood spouted from the wound: in a few minutes he was far away,
and I was too much disappointed to follow him. All love of the chase
seemed to be dying away before these several mishaps. What were two
antelopes for one day's sport to the thousands that browsed over the
plain?

The animals taken to camp during our three days' sport were two
buffaloes, two wild boar, three hartebeest, one zebra, and one pallah;
besides which, were shot eight guinea-fowls, three florican, two
fish-eagles, one pelican, and one of the men caught a couple of large
silurus fish. In the meantime the people had cut, sliced, and dried
this bounteous store of meat for our transit through the long wilderness
before us.

Saturday the 7th day of October, we broke up camp, to the great regret
of the meat-loving, gormandizing Wangwana. They delegated Bombay early
in the morning to speak to me, and entreat of me to stop one day longer.
It was ever the case; they had always an unconquerable aversion to work,
when in presence of meat. Bombay was well scolded for bearing any such
request to me after two days' rest, during which time they had been
filled to repletion with meat. And Bombay was by no means in the best of
humour; flesh-pots full of meat were more to his taste than a constant
tramping, and its consequent fatigues. I saw his face settle into sulky
ugliness, and his great nether lip hanging down limp, which meant as if
expressed in so many words, "Well, get them to move yourself, you wicked
hard man! I shall not help you."

An ominous silence followed my order to the kirangozi to sound the
horn, and the usual singing and chanting were not heard. The men turned
sullenly to their bales, and Asmani, the gigantic guide, our fundi, was
heard grumblingly to say he was sorry he had engaged to guide me to the
Tanganika. However, they started, though reluctantly. I stayed behind
with my gunbearers, to drive the stragglers on. In about half an hour I
sighted the caravan at a dead stop, with the bales thrown on the ground,
and the men standing in groups conversing angrily and excitedly.

Taking my double-barrelled gun from Selim's shoulder, I selected a dozen
charges of buck-shot, and slipping two of them into the barrels, and
adjusting my revolvers in order for handy work, I walked on towards
them. I noticed that the men seized their guns, as I advanced. When
within thirty yards of the groups, I discovered the heads of two men
appear above an anthill on my left, with the barrels of their guns
carelessly pointed toward the road.

I halted, threw the barrel of my gun into the hollow of the left hand,
and then, taking a deliberate aim at them, threatened to blow their
heads off if they did not come forward to talk to me. These two men
were, gigantic Asmani and his sworn companion Mabruki, the guides of
Sheikh bin Nasib. As it was dangerous not to comply with such an order,
they presently came, but, keeping my eye on Asmani, I saw him move his
fingers to the trigger of his gun, and bring his gun to a "ready." Again
I lifted my gun, and threatened him with instant death, if he did not
drop his gun.

Asmani came on in a sidelong way with a smirking smile on his face, but
in his eyes shone the lurid light of murder, as plainly as ever it shone
in a villain's eyes. Mabruki sneaked to my rear, deliberately putting
powder in the pan of his musket, but sweeping the gun sharply round, I
planted the muzzle of it at about two feet from his wicked-looking face,
and ordered him to drop his gun instantly. He let it fall from his hand
quickly, and giving him a vigorous poke in the breast with my gun, which
sent him reeling away a few feet from me, I faced round to Asmani, and
ordered him to put his gun down, accompanying it with a nervous movement
of my gun, pressing gently on the trigger at the same time. Never was
a man nearer his death than was Asmani during those few moments. I was
reluctant to shed his blood, and I was willing to try all possible means
to avoid doing so; but if I did not succeed in cowing this ruffian,
authority was at an end. The truth was, they feared to proceed further
on the road, and the only possible way of inducing them to move was
by an overpowering force, and exercise of my power and will in this
instance, even though he might pay the penalty of his disobedience with
death. As I was beginning to feel that Asmani had passed his last moment
on earth, as he was lifting his gun to his shoulder, a form came up from
behind him, and swept his gun aside with an impatient, nervous movement,
and I heard Mabruki Burton say in horror-struck accents:

"Man, how dare you point your gun, at the master?" Mabruki then threw
himself at my feet, and endeavoured to kiss them and entreated me not
to punish him. "It was all over now," he said; "there would be no more
quarreling, they would all go as far as the Tanganika, without any more
noise; and Inshallah!" said he, "we shall find the old Musungu * at
Ujiji."

*Livingstone

"Speak, men, freedmen, shall we not?--shall we not go to the Tanganika
without any more trouble? tell the master with one voice."

"Ay Wallah! Ay Wallah! Bana yango! Hamuna manneno mgini!" which
literally translated means, "Yes by God! Yes by God! my master! There
are no other words," said each man loudly.

"Ask the master's pardon, man, or go thy way," said Mabruki
peremptorily, to Asmani: which Asmani did, to the gratification of us
all.

It remained for me only to extend a general pardon to all except to
Bombay and Ambari, the instigators of the mutiny, which was now happily
quelled. For Bombay could have by a word, as my captain, nipped all
manifestation of bad temper at the outset, had he been so disposed.
But no, Bombay was more averse to marching than the cowardliest of his
fellows, not because he was cowardly, but because he loved indolence.

Again the word was given to march, and each man, with astonishing
alacrity, seized his load, and filed off quickly out of sight.

While on this subject, I may as well give here a sketch of each of the
principal men whose names must often appear in the following chapters.
According to rank, they consist of Bombay, Mabruki Burton, Asmani the
guide, Chowpereh, Ulimengo, Khamisi, Ambari, Jumah, Ferajji the cook,
Maganga the Mnyamwezi, Selim the Arab boy, and youthful Kalulu a
gunbearer.

Bombay has received an excellent character from Burton and Speke.
"Incarnation of honesty" Burton grandly terms him. The truth is, Bombay
was neither very honest nor very dishonest, i.e., he did not venture
to steal much. He sometimes contrived cunningly, as he distributed the
meat, to hide a very large share for his own use. This peccadillo of his
did not disturb me much; he deserved as captain a larger share than the
others. He required to be closely watched, and when aware that this was
the case, he seldom ventured to appropriate more cloth than I would have
freely given him, had he asked for it. As a personal servant, or valet,
he would have been unexceptionable, but as a captain or jemadar over his
fellows, he was out of his proper sphere. It was too much brain-work,
and was too productive of anxiety to keep him in order. At times he was
helplessly imbecile in his movements, forgot every order the moment it
was given him, consistently broke or lost some valuable article, was
fond of argument, and addicted to bluster. He thinks Hajji Abdullah one
of the wickedest white men born, because he saw him pick up men's skulls
and put them in sacks, as if he was about to prepare a horrible medicine
with them. He wanted to know whether his former master had written down
all he himself did, and when told that Burton had not said anything,
in his books upon the Lake Regions, upon collecting skulls at Kilwa,
thought I would be doing a good work if I published this important
fact.

     * Bombay intends to make a pilgrimage to visit Speke's grave
     some day.

     ** I find upon returning to England, that Capt. Burton has
     informed the world of this "wicked and abominable deed," in
     his book upon Zanzibar, and that the interesting collection
     may be seen at the Royal College of Surgeons, London.


Mabruki, "Ras-bukra Mabruki," Bull-headed Mabruki, as Burton calls
him, is a sadly abused man in my opinion. Mabruki, though stupid, is
faithful. He is entirely out of his element as valet, he might as well
be clerk. As a watchman he is invaluable, as a second captain or fundi,
whose duty it is to bring up stragglers, he is superexcellent. He is
ugly and vain, but he is no coward.

Asmani the guide is a large fellow, standing over six feet, with the
neck and shoulders of a Hercules. Besides being guide, he is a fundi,
sometimes called Fundi Asmani, or hunter. A very superstitious man, who
takes great care of his gun, and talismanic plaited cord, which he has
dipped in the blood of all the animals he has ever shot. He is afraid of
lions, and will never venture out where lions are known to be. All other
animals he regards as game, and is indefatigable in their pursuit. He is
seldom seen without an apologetic or a treacherous smile on his face. He
could draw a knife across a man's throat and still smile.

Chowpereh is a sturdy short man of thirty or thereabouts; very
good-natured, and humorous. When Chowpereh speaks in his dry Mark Twain
style, the whole camp laughs. I never quarrel with Chowpereh, never
did quarrel with him. A kind word given to Chowpereh is sure to be
reciprocated with a good deed. He is the strongest, the healthiest,
the amiablest, the faithfulest of all. He is the embodiment of a good
follower.

Khamisi is a neat, cleanly boy of twenty, or thereabouts, active,
loud-voiced, a boaster, and the cowardliest of the cowardly. He will
steal at every opportunity. He clings to his gun most affectionately; is
always excessively anxious if a screw gets loose, or if a flint will
not strike fire, yet I doubt that he would be able to fire his gun at an
enemy from excessive trembling. Khamisi would rather trust his safety to
his feet, which are small, and well shaped.

Ambari is a man of about forty. He is one of the "Faithfuls" of Speke,
and one of my Faithfuls. He would not run away from me except when in
the presence of an enemy, and imminent personal danger. He is clever
in his way, but is not sufficiently clever to enact the part of
captain--could take charge of a small party, and give a very good
account of them. Is lazy, and an admirer of good living--abhors
marching, unless he has nothing to carry but his gun.

Jumah is the best abused man of the party, because he has old-womanish
ways with him, yet in his old-womanish ways he is disposed to do the
best he can for me, though he will not carry a pound in weight without
groaning terribly at his hard fate. To me he is sentimental and
pathetic; to the unimportant members of the caravan he is stern and
uncompromising. But the truth is, that I could well dispense with
Jumah's presence: he was one of the incorrigible inutiles, eating far
more than he was worth; besides being an excessively grumbling and
querulous fool.

Ulimengo, a strong stalwart fellow of thirty, was the maddest and most
hare-brained of my party. Though an arrant coward, he was a consummate
boaster. But though a devotee of pleasure and fun, he was not averse
from work. With one hundred men such as he, I could travel through
Africa provided there was no fighting to do. It will be remembered that
he was the martial coryphaeus who led my little army to war against
Mirambo, chanting the battle-song of the Wangwana; and that I stated,
that when the retreat was determined upon, he was the first of my party
to reach the stronghold of Mfuto. He is a swift runner, and a fair
hunter. I have been indebted to him on several occasions for a welcome
addition to my larder.

Ferajji, a former dish-washer to Speke, was my cook. He was promoted
to this office upon the defection of Bunder Salaam, and the extreme
non-fitness of Abdul Kader. For cleaning dishes, the first corn-cob,
green twig, a bunch of leaves or grass, answered Ferajji's purposes in
the absence of a cloth. If I ordered a plate, and I pointed out a
black, greasy, sooty thumbmark to him, a rub of a finger Ferajji thought
sufficient to remove all objections. If I hinted that a spoon was rather
dirty, Ferajji fancied that with a little saliva, and a rub of his loin
cloth, the most fastidious ought to be satisfied. Every pound of meat,
and every three spoonfuls of musk or porridge I ate in Africa, contained
at least ten grains of sand. Ferajji was considerably exercised at a
threat I made to him that on arrival at Zanzibar, I would get the great
English doctor there to open my stomach, and count every grain of sand
found in it, for each grain of which Ferajji should be charged one
dollar. The consciousness that my stomach must contain a large number,
for which the forfeits would be heavy, made him feel very sad at
times. Otherwise, Ferajji was a good cook, most industrious, if not
accomplished. He could produce a cup of tea, and three or four hot
pancakes, within ten minutes after a halt was ordered, for which I was
most grateful, as I was almost always hungry after a long march. Ferajji
sided with Baraka against Bombay in Unyoro, and when Speke took Bombay's
side of the question, Ferajji, out of love for Baraka, left Speke's
service, and so forfeited his pay.

Maganga was a Mnyamwezi, a native of Mkwenkwe, a strong, faithful
servant, an excellent pagazi, with an irreproachable temper. He it was
who at all times, on the march, started the wildly exuberant song of the
Wanyamwezi porters, which, no matter how hot the sun, or how long the
march, was sure to produce gaiety and animation among the people. At
such times all hands sang, sang with voices that could be heard miles
away, which made the great forests ring with the sounds, which startled
every animal big or little, for miles around. On approaching a village
the temper of whose people might be hostile to us, Maganga would
commence his song, with the entire party joining in the chorus, by
which mode we knew whether the natives were disposed to be friendly or
hostile. If hostile, or timid, the gates would at once be closed, and
dark faces would scowl at us from the interior; if friendly, they rushed
outside of their gates to welcome us, or to exchange friendly remarks.

An important member of the Expedition was Selim, the young Arab. Without
some one who spoke good Arabic, I could not have obtained the friendship
of the chief Arabs in Unyanyembe; neither could I have well communicated
with them, for though I understood Arabic, I could not speak it.

I have already related how Kalulu came to be in my service, and how he
came to bear his present name. I soon found how apt and quick he was to
learn, in consequence of which, he was promoted to the rank of personal
attendant. Even Selim could not vie with Kalulu in promptness and
celerity, or in guessing my wants at the table. His little black eyes
were constantly roving over the dishes, studying out the problem of what
was further necessary, or had become unnecessary.

We arrived at the Ziwani, in about 4 h. 30 m. from the time of our
quitting the scene which had well-nigh witnessed a sanguinary conflict.
The Ziwani, or pool, contained no water, not a drop, until the parched
tongues of my people warned them that they must proceed and excavate
for water. This excavation was performed (by means of strong hard sticks
sharply pointed) in the dry hard-caked bottom. After digging to a depth
of six feet their labours were rewarded with the sight of a few drops of
muddy liquid percolating through the sides, which were eagerly swallowed
to relieve their raging thirst. Some voluntarily started with buckets,
gourds, and canteens south to a deserted clearing called the "Tongoni"
in Ukamba, and in about three hours returned with a plentiful supply for
immediate use, of good and clear water.

In 1 h. 30 m. we arrived at this Tongoni, or deserted clearing of
the Wakamba. Here were three or four villages burnt, and an extensive
clearing desolate, the work of the Wa-Ruga-Raga of Mirambo. Those of the
inhabitants who were left, after the spoliation and complete destruction
of the flourishing settlement, emigrated westerly to Ugara. A large
herd of buffalo now slake their thirst at the pool which supplied the
villages of Ukamba with water.

Great masses of iron haematite cropped up above the surfaces in these
forests. Wild fruit began to be abundant; the wood-apple and tamarind
and a small plum-like fruit, furnished us with many an agreeable repast.

The honey-bird is very frequent in these forests of Ukonongo. Its cry is
a loud, quick chirrup. The Wakonongo understand how to avail themselves
of its guidance to the sweet treasure of honey which the wild bees have
stored in the cleft of some great tree. Daily, the Wakonongo who had
joined our caravan brought me immense cakes of honey-comb, containing
delicious white and red honey. The red honey-comb generally contains
large numbers of dead bees, but our exceedingly gluttonous people
thought little of these. They not only ate the honey-bees, but they also
ate a good deal of the wax.

As soon as the honey-bird descries the traveller, he immediately utters
a series of wild, excited cries, hops about from twig to twig, and from
branch to branch, then hops to another tree, incessantly repeating his
chirruping call. The native, understanding the nature of the little
bird, unhesitatingly follows him; but perhaps his steps are too slow for
the impatient caller, upon which he flies back, urging him louder, more
impatient cries, to hasten, and then darts swiftly forward, as if he
would show how quickly he could go to the honey-store, until at last the
treasure is reached, the native has applied fire to the bees' nest, and
secured the honey, while the little bird preens himself, and chirrups in
triumphant notes, as if he were informing the biped that without his aid
he never could have found the honey.

Buffalo gnats and tsetse were very troublesome on this march, owing to
the numerous herds of game in the vicinity.

On the 9th of October we made a long march in a southerly direction, and
formed our camp in the centre of a splendid grove of trees. The water
was very scarce on the road. The Wamrima and Wanyamwezi are not long
able to withstand thirst. When water is plentiful they slake their
thirst at every stream and pool; when it is scarce, as it is here and
in the deserts of Marenga and Magunda Mkali, long afternoon-marches are
made; the men previously, however, filling their gourds, so as to enable
them to reach the water early next morning. Selim was never able to
endure thirst. It mattered not how much of the precious liquid he
carried, he generally drank it all before reaching camp, and he
consequently suffered during the night. Besides this, he endangered
his life by quaffing from every muddy pool; and on this day he began to
complain that he discharged blood, which I took to be an incipient stage
of dysentery.

During these marches, ever since quitting Ugunda, a favourite topic
at the camp-fires were the Wa-Ruga-Ruga, and their atrocities, and a
possible encounter that we might have with these bold rovers of
the forest. I verily believe that a sudden onset of half a dozen of
Mirambo's people would have set the whole caravan arunning.

We reached Marefu the next day, after a short three hours' march. We
there found an embassy sent by the Arabs of Unyanyembe, to the Southern
Watuta, bearing presents of several bales, in charge of Hassan the
Mseguhha. This valiant leader and diplomatist had halted here some ten
days because of wars and rumours of wars in his front. It was said that
Mbogo, Sultan of Mboga in Ukonongo, was at war with the brother of Manwa
Sera, and as Mbogo was a large district of Ukonongo only two days' march
from Marefu; fear of being involved in it was deterring old Hassan from
proceeding. He advised me also not to proceed, as it was impossible to
be able to do so without being embroiled in the conflict. I informed
him that I intended to proceed on my way, and take my chances, and
graciously offered him my escort as far as the frontier of Ufipa, from
which he could easily and safely continue on his way to the Watuta, but
he declined it.

We had now been travelling fourteen days in a south-westerly direction,
having made a little more than one degree of latitude. I had intended to
have gone a little further south, because it was such a good road, also
since by going further south we should have labored under no fear of
meeting Mirambo; but the report of this war in our front, only two days
off, compelled me, in the interest of the Expedition, to strike across
towards the Tanganika, an a west-by-north course through the forest,
travelling, when it was advantageous, along elephant tracks and local
paths. This new plan was adopted after consulting with Asmani, the
guide. We were now in Ukonongo, having entered this district when
we crossed the Gombe creek. The next day after arriving at Marefu we
plunged westward, in view of the villagers, and the Arab ambassador,
who kept repeating until the last moment that we should "certainly catch
it."

We marched eight hours through a forest, where the forest peach, or the
"mbembu," is abundant. The tree that bears this fruit is very like
a pear-tree, and is very productive. I saw one tree, upon which I
estimated there were at least six or seven bushels. I ate numbers of the
peaches on this day. So long as this fruit can be produced, a traveller
in these regions need not fear starvation.

At the base of a graceful hilly cone we found a village called Utende,
the inhabitants of which were in a state of great alarm, as we suddenly
appeared on the ridge above them. Diplomacy urged me to send forward a
present of one doti to the Sultan, who, however, would not accept it,
because he happened to be drunk with pombe, and was therefore disposed
to be insolent. Upon being informed that he would refuse any present,
unless he received four more cloths, I immediately ordered a strong
boma to be constructed on the summits of a little hill, near enough to
a plentiful supply of water, and quietly again packed up the present in
the bale. I occupied a strategically chosen position, as I could have
swept the face of the hill, and the entire space between its base and
the village of Watende. Watchmen were kept on the look-out all
night; but we were fortunately not troubled until the morning; when
a delegation of the principal men came to ask if I intended to depart
without having made a present to the chief. I replied to them that I did
not intend passing through any country without making friends with the
chief; and if their chief would accept a good cloth from me, I would
freely give it to him. Though they demurred at the amount of the present
at first, the difference between us was finally ended by my adding a
fundo of red beads--sami-sami--for the chief's wife.

From the hill and ridge of Utende sloped a forest for miles and miles
westerly, which was terminated by a grand and smooth-topped ridge rising
500 or 600 feet above the plain.

A four hours' march, on the 12th of October, brought us to a nullah
similar to the Gombe, which, during the wet season, flows to the Gombe
River, and thence into the Malagarazi River.

A little before camping we saw a herd of nimba, or pallah; I had the
good fortune to shoot one, which was a welcome addition to our fast
diminishing store of dried meats, prepared in our camp on the Gombe. By
the quantity of bois de vaches, we judged buffaloes were plentiful here,
as well as elephant and rhinoceros. The feathered species were well
represented by ibis, fish-eagles, pelicans, storks, cranes, several
snowy spoon-bills, and flamingoes.

From the nullah, or mtoni, we proceeded to Mwaru, the principal village
of the district of Mwaru, the chief of which is Ka-mirambo. Our march
lay over desolated clearings once occupied by Ka-mirambo's people, but
who were driven away by Mkasiwa some ten years ago, during his warfare
against Manwa Sera. Niongo, the brother of the latter, now waging war
against Mbogo, had passed through Mwaru the day before we arrived, after
being defeated by his enemy.

The hilly ridge that bounded the westward horizon, visible from Utende,
was surmounted on this day. The western slope trends south-west, and is
drained by the River Mrera, which empties into the Malagarazi River. We
perceived the influence of the Tanganika, even here, though we were
yet twelve or fifteen marches from the lake. The jungles increased in
density, and the grasses became enormously tall; these points reminded
us of the maritime districts of Ukwere and Ukami.

We heard from a caravan at this place, just come from Ufipa, that
a white man was reported to be in "Urua," whom I supposed to mean
Livingstone.

Upon leaving Mwaru we entered the district of Mrera, a chief who once
possessed great power and influence over this region. Wars, however,
have limited his possessions to three or four villages snugly embosomed
within a jungle, whose outer rim is so dense that it serves like a stone
wall to repel invaders. There were nine bleached skulls, stuck on the
top of as many poles, before the principal gate of entrance, which told
us of existing feuds between the Wakonongo and the Wazavira. This latter
tribe dwelt in a country a few marches west of us; whose territory
we should have to avoid, unless we sought another opportunity to
distinguish ourselves in battle with the natives. The Wazavira, we were
told by the Wakonongo of Mrera, were enemies to all Wangwana.

In a narrow strip of marsh between Mwaru and Mrera, we saw a small herd
of wild elephants. It was the first time I had ever seen these animals
in their native wildness, and my first impressions of them I shall not
readily forget. I am induced to think that the elephant deserves the
title of "king of beasts." His huge form, the lordly way in which he
stares at an intruder on his domain, and his whole appearance indicative
of conscious might, afford good grounds for his claim to that title.
This herd, as we passed it at the distance of a mile, stopped to survey
the caravan as it passed: and, after having satisfied their curiosity,
the elephants trooped into the forest which bounded the marshy plain
southward, as if caravans were every-day things to them, whilst
they--the free and unconquerable lords of the forest and the marsh--had
nothing in common with the cowardly bipeds, who never found courage to
face them in fair combat. The destruction which a herd makes in a forest
is simply tremendous. When the trees are young whole swathes may be
found uprooted and prostrate, which mark the track of the elephants as
they "trampled their path through wood and brake."

The boy Selim was so ill at this place that I was compelled to halt the
caravan for him for two days. He seemed to be affected with a disease
in the limbs, which caused him to sprawl, and tremble most painfully,
besides suffering from an attack of acute dysentery. But constant
attendance and care soon brought him round again; and on the third day
he was able to endure the fatigue of riding.

I was able to shoot several animals during our stay at Mrera. The forest
outside of the cultivation teems with noble animals. Zebra, giraffe,
elephant, and rhinoceros are most common; ptarmigan and guinea-fowl were
also plentiful.

The warriors of Mrera are almost all armed with muskets, of which they
take great care. They were very importunate in their demands for flints,
bullets, and powder, which I always made it a point to refuse, lest
at any moment a fracas occurring they might use the ammunition thus
supplied to my own disadvantage. The men of this village were an idle
set, doing little but hunting, gaping, gossiping, and playing like great
boys. During the interval of my stay at Mrera I employed a large portion
of my time in mending my shoes, and patching up the great rents in my
clothes, which the thorn species, during the late marches, had almost
destroyed. Westward, beyond Mrera, was a wilderness, the transit of
which we were warned would occupy nine days hence arose the necessity
to purchase a large supply of grain, which, ere attempting the great
uninhabited void in our front, was to be ground and sifted.



CHAPTER XI. -- THROUGH UKAWENDI, UVINZA, AND UHHA, TO UJIJI.

     Happy auspices,--Ant-hills.--The water-shed of the Tanganika
     Lion.--The king of Kasera.--The home of the lion and the
     leopard.--A donkey frightens a leopard--Sublime scenes in
     Kawendi,--Starvation imminent.--Amenities of travel in
     Africa.--Black-mailers.--The stormy children of Uhha.--News
     of a white man.--Energetic marches--Mionvu, chief of
     tribute-takers.--An escape at midnight.--Toiling through the
     jungles.--The Lake Mountains.--First view of the Tanganika.--
     Arrival at Ujiji,--The happy meeting with Livingstone.


We bade farewell to Mrera on the 17th of October, to continue our route
north-westward. All the men and I were firm friends now; all squabbling
had long ceased. Bombay and I had forgotten our quarrel; the kirangozi
and myself were ready to embrace, so loving and affectionate were the
terms upon which we stood towards one another. Confidence returned to
all hearts--for now, as Mabruk Unyanyembe said, "we could smell the fish
of the Tanganika." Unyanyembe, with all its disquietude, was far behind.
We could snap our fingers at that terrible Mirambo and his unscrupulous
followers, and by-and-by, perhaps, we may be able to laugh at the timid
seer who always prophesied portentous events--Sheikh, the son of Nasib.
We laughed joyously, as we glided in Indian file through the young
forest jungle beyond the clearing of Mrera, and boasted of our prowess.
Oh! we were truly brave that morning!

Emerging from the jungle, we entered a thin forest, where numerous
ant-hills were seen like so many sand-dunes. I imagine that these
ant-hills were formed during a remarkably wet season, when, possibly,
the forest-clad plain was inundated. I have seen the ants at work
by thousands, engaged in the work of erecting their hills in other
districts suffering from inundation. What a wonderful system of cells
these tiny insects construct! A perfect labyrinth--cell within cell,
room within room, hall within hall--an exhibition of engineering talents
and high architectural capacity--a model city, cunningly contrived for
safety and comfort!

Emerging after a short hour's march out of the forest, we welcome the
sight of a murmuring translucent stream, swiftly flowing towards the
north-west, which we regard with the pleasure which only men who have
for a long time sickened themselves with that potable liquid of the
foulest kind, found in salinas, mbugas, pools, and puddle holes, can
realize. Beyond this stream rises a rugged and steep ridge, from the
summit of which our eyes are gladdened with scenes that are romantic,
animated and picturesque. They form an unusual feast to eyes sated with
looking into the depths of forests, at towering stems of trees, and at
tufted crowns of foliage. We have now before us scores of cones, dotting
the surface of a plain which extends across Southern Ukonongo to the
territory of the Wafipa, and which reaches as far as the Rikwa Plain.
The immense prospect before which we are suddenly ushered is most
varied; exclusive of conical hills and ambitious flat-topped and
isolated mountains, we are in view of the watersheds of the Rungwa
River, which empties into the Tanganika south of where we stand, and of
the Malagarazi River, which the Tanganika receives, a degree or so north
of this position. A single but lengthy latitudinal ridge serves as a
dividing line to the watershed of the Rungwa and Malagarazi; and a score
of miles or so further west of this ridge rises another, which runs
north and south.

We camped on this day in the jungle, close to a narrow ravine with a
marshy bottom, through the oozy, miry contents of which the waters from
the watershed of the Rungwa slowly trickled southward towards the Rikwa
Plain. This was only one of many ravines, however, some of which were
several hundred yards broad, others were but a few yards in width, the
bottoms of which were most dangerous quagmires, overgrown with dense
tall reeds and papyrus. Over the surface of these great depths of mud
were seen hundreds of thin threads of slimy ochre-coloured water, which
swarmed with animalculae. By-and-by, a few miles south of the base
of this ridge (which I call Kasera, from the country which it cuts in
halves), these several ravines converge and debouch into the
broad, [marshy?], oozy, spongy "river" of Usense, which trends in a
south-easterly direction; after which, gathering the contents of the
watercourses from the north and northeast into its own broader channel,
it soon becomes a stream of some breadth and consequence, and meets a
river flowing from the east, from the direction of Urori, with which it
conflows in the Rikwa Plain, and empties about sixty rectilineal miles
further west into the Tanganika Lake. The Rungwa River, I am informed,
is considered as a boundary line between the country of Usowa on the
north, and Ufipa on the south.

We had barely completed the construction of our camp defences when
some of the men were heard challenging a small party of natives which
advanced towards our camp, headed by a man who, from his garb and
head-dress, we knew was from Zanzibar. After interchanging the customary
salutations, I was informed that this party was an embassy from Simba
("Lion"), who ruled over Kasera, in Southern Unyamwezi. Simba, I was
told, was the son of Mkasiwa, King of Unyanyembe, and was carrying on
war with the Wazavira, of whom I was warned to beware. He had heard such
reports of my greatness that he was sorry I did not take his road to
Ukawendi, that he might have had the opportunity of seeing me, and
making friends with me; but in the absence of a personal visit Simba had
sent this embassy to overtake me, in the hope that I would present him
with a token of my friendship in the shape of cloth. Though I was rather
taken aback by the demand, still it was politic in me to make this
powerful chief my friend, lest on my return from the search after
Livingstone he and I might fall out. And since it was incumbent on me
to make a present, for the sake of peace, it was necessary to exhibit
my desire for peace by giving--if I gave at all--a royal present. The
ambassador conveyed from me to Simba, or the "Lion" of Kasera, two
gorgeous cloths, and two other doti consisting of Merikani and Kaniki;
and, if I might believe the ambassador, I had made Simba a friend for
ever.

On the 18th of October, breaking camp at the usual hour, we continued
our march north-westward by a road which zig-zagged along the base of
the Kasera mountains, and which took us into all kinds of difficulties.
We traversed at least a dozen marshy ravines, the depth of mire and
water in which caused the utmost anxiety. I sunk up to my neck in deep
holes in the Stygian ooze caused by elephants, and had to tramp through
the oozy beds of the Rungwa sources with any clothes wet and black with
mud and slime. Decency forbade that I should strip; and the hot sun
would also blister my body. Moreover, these morasses were too frequent
to lose time in undressing and dressing, and, as each man was weighted
with his own proper load, it would have been cruel to compel the men
to bear me across. Nothing remained, therefore, but to march on, all
encumbered as I was with my clothing and accoutrements, into these
several marshy watercourses, with all the philosophical stoicism that my
nature could muster for such emergencies. But it was very uncomfortable,
to say the least of it.

We soon entered the territory of the dreaded Wazavira, but no enemy was
in sight. Simba, in his wars, had made clean work of the northern
part of Uzavira, and we encountered nothing worse than a view of the
desolated country, which must have been once--judging from the number
of burnt huts and debris of ruined villages--extremely populous. A young
jungle was sprouting up vigorously in their fields, and was rapidly
becoming the home of wild denizens of the forest. In one of the deserted
and ruined villages, I found quarters for the Expedition, which were
by no means uncomfortable. I shot three brace of guinea-fowl in the
neighbourhood of Misonghi, the deserted village we occupied, and
Ulimengo, one of my hunters, bagged an antelope, called the "mbawala,"
for whose meat some of the Wanyamwezi have a superstitious aversion. I
take this species of antelope, which stands about three and a half
feet high, of a reddish hide, head long, horns short, to be the "Nzoe"
antelope discovered by Speke in Uganda, and whose Latin designation
is, according to Dr. Sclater, "Tragelaphus Spekii." It has a short bushy
tail, and long hair along the spine.

A long march in a west-by-north direction, lasting six hours, through
a forest where the sable antelope was seen, and which was otherwise
prolific with game, brought us to a stream which ran by the base of
a lofty conical hill, on whose slopes flourished quite a forest of
feathery bamboo.

On the 20th, leaving our camp, which lay between the stream and the
conical hill above mentioned, and surmounting a low ridge which sloped
from the base of the hill-cone, we were greeted with another picturesque
view, of cones and scarped mountains, which heaved upward in all
directions. A march of nearly five hours through this picturesque
country brought us to the Mpokwa River, one of the tributaries of the
Rungwa, and to a village lately deserted by the Wazavira. The huts
were almost all intact, precisely as they were left by their former
inhabitants. In the gardens were yet found vegetables, which, after
living so long on meat, were most grateful to us. On the branches of
trees still rested the Lares and Penates of the Wazavira, in the shape
of large and exceedingly well-made earthen pots.

In the neighbouring river one of my men succeeded, in few minutes, in
catching sixty fish of the silurus species the hand alone. A number of
birds hovered about stream, such as the white-headed fish-eagle and the
kingfisher, enormous, snowy spoonbills, ibis, martins, &c. This river
issued from a mountain clump eight miles or so north of the village
of Mpokwa, and comes flowing down a narrow thread of water, sinuously
winding amongst tall reeds and dense brakes on either side-the home
of hundreds of antelopes and buffaloes. South of Mpokwa, the valley
broadens, and the mountains deflect eastward and westward, and beyond
this point commences the plain known as the Rikwa, which, during the
Masika is inundated, but which, in the dry season, presents the same
bleached aspect that plains in Africa generally do when the grass has
ripened.

Travelling up along the right bank of the Mpokwa, on the 21st we came
to the head of the stream, and the sources of the Mpokwa, issuing out of
deep defiles enclosed by lofty ranges. The mbawala and the buffalo were
plentiful.

On the 22nd, after a march of four hours and a half, we came to the
beautiful stream of Mtambu--the water of which was sweet, and clear as
crystal, and flowed northward. We saw for the first time the home of the
lion and the leopard. Hear what Freiligrath says of the place:


     Where the thorny brake and thicket
     Densely fill the interspace
     Of the trees, through whose thick branches
     Never sunshine lights the place,
     There the lion dwells, a monarch,
     Mightiest among the brutes;
     There his right to reign supremest
     Never one his claim disputes.
     There he layeth down to slumber,
     Having slain and ta'en his fill;
     There he roameth, there be croucheth,
     As it suits his lordly will.


We camped but a few yards from just such a place as the poet describes.
The herd-keeper who attended the goats and donkeys, soon after our
arrival in camp, drove the animals to water, and in order to obtain it
they travelled through a tunnel in the brake, caused by elephants and
rhinoceros. They had barely entered the dark cavernous passage, when a
black-spotted leopard sprang, and fastened its fangs in the neck of
one of the donkeys, causing it, from the pain, to bray hideously. Its
companions set up such a frightful chorus, and so lashed their heels in
the air at the feline marauder, that the leopard bounded away through
the brake, as if in sheer dismay at the noisy cries which the attack
had provoked. The donkey's neck exhibited some frightful wounds, but the
animal was not dangerously hurt.

Thinking that possibly I might meet with an adventure with a lion or a
leopard in that dark belt of tall trees, under whose impenetrable
shade grew the dense thicket that formed such admirable coverts for the
carnivorous species, I took a stroll along the awesome place with
the gunbearer, Kalulu, carrying an extra gun, and a further supply of
ammunition. We crept cautiously along, looking keenly into the deep
dark dens, the entrances of which were revealed to us, as we journeyed,
expectant every moment to behold the reputed monarch of the brake and
thicket, bound forward to meet us, and I took a special delight in
picturing, in my imagination, the splendor and majesty of the wrathful
brute, as he might stand before me. I peered closely into every dark
opening, hoping to see the deadly glitter of the great angry eyes, and
the glowering menacing front of the lion as he would regard me. But,
alas! after an hour's search for adventure, I had encountered nothing,
and I accordingly waxed courageous, and crept into one of these leafy,
thorny caverns, and found myself shortly standing under a canopy of
foliage that was held above my head fully a hundred feet by the shapely
and towering stems of the royal mvule. Who can imagine the position? A
smooth lawn-like glade; a dense and awful growth of impenetrable jungle
around us; those stately natural pillars--a glorious phalanx of royal
trees, bearing at such sublime heights vivid green masses of foliage,
through which no single sun-ray penetrated, while at our feet babbled
the primeval brook, over smooth pebbles, in soft tones befitting the
sacred quiet of the scene! Who could have desecrated this solemn, holy
harmony of nature? But just as I was thinking it impossible that any man
could be tempted to disturb the serene solitude of the place, I saw
a monkey perched high on a branch over my head, contemplating, with
something of an awe-struck look, the strange intruders beneath. Well, I
could not help it, I laughed--laughed loud and long, until I was hushed
by the chaos of cries and strange noises which seemed to respond to my
laughing. A troop of monkeys, hidden in the leafy depths above, had been
rudely awakened, and, startled by the noise I made, were hurrying away
from the scene with a dreadful clamor of cries and shrieks.

Emerging again into the broad sunlight, I strolled further in search
of something to shoot. Presently, I saw, feeding quietly in the
forest which bounded the valley of the Mtambu on the left, a huge,
reddish-coloured wild boar, armed with most horrid tusks. Leaving Kalulu
crouched down behind a tree, and my solar helmet behind another close
by--that I might more safely stalk the animal--I advanced towards him
some forty yards, and after taking a deliberate aim, fired at his fore
shoulder. As if nothing had hurt him whatever, the animal made a furious
bound, and then stood with his bristles erected, and tufted tail, curved
over the back--a most formidable brute in appearance. While he was thus
listening, and searching the neighbourhood with his keen, small eyes,
I planted another shot in his chest, which ploughed its way through his
body. Instead of falling, however, as I expected he would, he charged
furiously in the direction the bullet had come, and as he rushed past
me, another ball was fired, which went right through him; but still he
kept on, until, within six or seven yards from the trees behind which
Kalulu was crouching down on one side, and the helmet was resting behind
another, he suddenly halted, and then dropped. But as I was about to
advance on him with my knife to cut his throat, he suddenly started
up; his eyes had caught sight of the little boy Kalulu, and were then,
almost immediately afterwards, attracted by the sight of the snowy
helmet. These strange objects on either side of him proved too much for
the boar, for, with a terrific grunt, he darted on one side into a
thick brake, from which it was impossible to oust him, and as it was now
getting late, and the camp was about three miles away, I was reluctantly
obliged to return without the meat.

On our way to camp we were accompanied by a large animal which
persistently followed us on our left. It was too dark to see plainly,
but a large form was visible, if not very clearly defined. It must have
been a lion, unless it was the ghost of the dead boar.

That night, about 11 P.M., we were startled by the roar of a lion, in
close proximity to the camp. Soon it was joined by another, and another
still, and the novelty of the thing kept me awake. I peered through
the gate of the camp, and endeavoured to sight a rifle--my little
Winchester, in the accuracy of which I had perfect confidence; but,
alas! for the cartridges, they might have been as well filled with
sawdust for all the benefit I derived from them. Disgusted with the
miserable ammunition, I left the lions alone, and turned in, with their
roaring as a lullaby.

That terrestrial paradise for the hunter, the valley of the pellucid
Mtambu, was deserted by us the next morning for the settlement commonly
known to the Wakawendi as Imrera's, with as much unconcern as though
it were a howling desert. The village near which we encamped was called
Itaga, in the district of Rusawa. As soon as we had crossed the River
Mtambu we had entered Ukawendi, commonly called "Kawendi" by the natives
of the country.

The district of Rusawa is thickly populated. The people are quiet and
well-disposed to strangers, though few ever come to this region from
afar. One or two Wasawahili traders visit it every year or so from
Pumburu and Usowa; but very little ivory being obtained from the people,
the long distance between the settlements serves to deter the regular
trader from venturing hither.

If caravans arrive here, the objective point to them is the district
of Pumburu, situated south-westerly one day's good marching, or,
say, thirty statute miles from Imrera; or they make for Usowa, on the
Tanganika, via Pumburu, Katuma, Uyombeh, and Ugarawah. Usowa is quite an
important district on the Tanganika, populous and flourishing. This was
the road we had intended to adopt after leaving Imrera, but the reports
received at the latter place forbade such a venture. For Mapunda, the
Sultan of Usowa, though a great friend to Arab traders, was at war with
the colony of the Wazavira, who we must remember were driven from
Mpokwa and vicinity in Utanda, and who were said to have settled between
Pumburu and Usowa.

It remained for us, like wise, prudent men, having charge of a large and
valuable Expedition on our hands, to decide what to do, and what route
to adopt, now that we had approached much nearer to Ujiji than we were
to Unyanyembe. I suggested that we should make direct for the Tanganika
by compass, trusting to no road or guide, but to march direct west until
we came to the Tanganika, and then follow the lake shore on foot until
we came to Ujiji. For it ever haunted my mind, that, if Dr. Livingstone
should hear of my coming, which he might possibly do if I travelled
along any known road, he would leave, and that my search for him would
consequently be a "stern chase." But my principal men thought it better
that we should now boldly turn our faces north, and march for the
Malagarazi, which was said to be a large river flowing from the east
to the Tanganika. But none of my men knew the road to the Malagarazi,
neither could guides be hired from Sultan Imrera. We were, however,
informed that the Malagarazi was but two days' march from Imrera. I
thought it safe, in such a case, to provision my men with three days'
rations. The village of Itaga is situated in a deep mountain hollow,
finely overlooking a large extent of cultivation. The people grow sweet
potatoes, manioc--out of which tapioca is made--beans, and the holcus.
Not one chicken could be purchased for love or money, and, besides
grain, only a lean, scraggy specimen of a goat, a long time ago imported
form Uvinza, was procurable.

October the 25th will be remembered by me as a day of great troubles; in
fact, a series of troubles began from this date. We struck an easterly
road in order to obtain a passage to the lofty plateau which bounded the
valley of Imrera on the west and on the north. We camped, after a two
and a half hours' march, at its foot. The defile promised a feasible
means of ascent to the summit of the plateau, which rose upward in a
series of scarps a thousand feet above the valley of Imrera.

While ascending that lofty arc of mountains which bounded westerly
and northerly the basin of Imrera, extensive prospects southward and
eastward were revealed. The character of the scenery at Ukawendi is
always animated and picturesque, but never sublime. The folds of this
ridge contained several ruins of bomas, which seemed to have been
erected during war time.

The mbemba fruit was plentiful along this march, and every few minutes I
could see from the rear one or two men hastening to secure a treasure of
it which they discovered on the ground.

A little before reaching the camp I had a shot at a leopard, but failed
to bring him down as he bounded away. At night the lions roared as at
the Mtambu River.

A lengthy march under the deep twilight shadows of a great forest, which
protected us from the hot sunbeams, brought us, on the next day, to a
camp newly constructed by a party of Arabs from Ujiji, who had advanced
thus far on their road to Unyanyembe, but, alarmed at the reports of the
war between Mirambo and the Arabs, had returned. Our route was along the
right bank of the Rugufu, a broad sluggish stream, well choked with
the matete reeds and the papyrus. The tracks and the bois de vaches
of buffaloes were numerous, and there were several indications of
rhinoceros being near. In a deep clump of timber near this river we
discovered a colony of bearded and leonine-looking monkeys.

As we were about leaving our camp on the morning of the 28th a herd of
buffalo walked deliberately into view. Silence was quickly restored,
but not before the animals, to their great surprise, had discovered the
danger which confronted them. We commenced stalking them, but we soon
heard the thundering sound of their gallop, after which it becomes a
useless task to follow them, with a long march in a wilderness before
one.

The road led on this day over immense sheets of sandstone and iron ore.
The water was abominable, and scarce, and famine began to stare us
in the face. We travelled for six hours, and had yet seen no sign of
cultivation anywhere. According to my map we were yet two long marches
from the Malagarazi--if Captain Burton had correctly laid down the
position of the river; according to the natives' account, we should have
arrived at the Malagarazi on this day.

On the 29th we left our camp, and after a few minutes, we were in view
of the sublimest, but ruggedest, scenes we had yet beheld in Africa. The
country was cut up in all directions by deep, wild, and narrow ravines
trending in all directions, but generally toward the north-west, while
on either side rose enormous square masses of naked rock (sandstone),
sometimes towering, and rounded, sometimes pyramidal, sometimes in
truncated cones, sometimes in circular ridges, with sharp, rugged, naked
backs, with but little vegetation anywhere visible, except it obtained
a precarious tenure in the fissured crown of some gigantic hill-top,
whither some soil had fallen, or at the base of the reddish ochre scarps
which everywhere lifted their fronts to our view.

A long series of descents down rocky gullies, wherein we were environed
by threatening masses of disintegrated rock, brought us to a dry, stony
ravine, with mountain heights looming above us a thousand feet high.
This ravine we followed, winding around in all directions, but which
gradually widened, however, into a broad plain, with a western trend.
The road, leaving this, struck across a low ridge to the north; and we
were in view of deserted settlements where the villages were built on
frowning castellated masses of rock. Near an upright mass of rock over
seventy feet high, and about fifty yards in diameter, which dwarfed the
gigantic sycamore close to it, we made our camp, after five hours and
thirty minutes' continuous and rapid marching.

The people were very hungry; they had eaten every scrap of meat, and
every grain they possessed, twenty hours before, and there was no
immediate prospect of food. I had but a pound and a half of flour
left, and this would not have sufficed to begin to feed a force of over
forty-five people; but I had something like thirty pounds of tea, and
twenty pounds of sugar left, and I at once, as soon as we arrived at
camp, ordered every kettle to be filled and placed on the fire, and then
made tea for all; giving each man a quart of a hot, grateful beverage;
well sweetened. Parties stole out also into the depths: of the jungle
to search for wild fruit, and soon returned laden with baskets of the
wood-peach and tamarind fruit, which though it did not satisfy, relieved
them. That night, before going to sleep, the Wangwana set up a loud
prayer to "Allah" to give them food.

We rose betimes in the morning, determined to travel on until food
could be procured, or we dropped down from sheer fatigue and weakness.
Rhinoceros' tracks abounded, and buffalo seemed to be plentiful, but
we never beheld a living thing. We crossed scores of short steeps,
and descended as often into the depths of dry, stony gullies, and then
finally entered a valley, bounded on one side by a triangular mountain
with perpendicular sides, and on the other by a bold group, a triplet
of hills. While marching down this valley--which soon changed its dry,
bleached aspect to a vivid green--we saw a forest in the distance, and
shortly found ourselves in corn-fields. Looking keenly around for a
village, we descried it on the summit of the lofty triangular hill on
our right. A loud exultant shout was raised at the discovery. The men
threw down their packs, and began to clamour for food. Volunteers were
asked to come forward to take cloth, and scale the heights to obtain
it from the village, at any price. While three or four sallied off we
rested on the ground, quite worn out. In about an hour the foraging
party returned with the glorious tidings that food was plentiful;
that the village we saw was called, "Welled Nzogera's"--the son of
Nzogera--by which, of course, we knew that we were in Uvinza, Nzogera
being the principal chief in Uvinza. We were further informed that
Nzogera, the father, was at war with Lokanda-Mire, about some salt-pans
in the valley of the Malagarazi, and that it would be difficult to go
to Ujiji by the usual road, owing to this war; but, for a consideration,
the son of Nzogera was willing to supply us with guides, who would take
us safely, by a northern road, to Ujiji.

Everything auguring well for our prospects, we encamped to enjoy the
good cheer, for which our troubles and privations, during the transit of
the Ukawendi forests and jungles, had well prepared us.

I am now going to extract from my Diary of the march, as, without its
aid, I deem it impossible to relate fully our various experiences, so as
to show them properly as they occurred to us; and as these extracts
were written and recorded at the close of each day, they possess more
interest, in my opinion, than a cold relation of facts, now toned down
in memory.

October 31st. Tuesday.--Our road led E.N.E. for a considerable time
after leaving the base of the triangular mountain whereon the son of
Nzogera has established his stronghold, in order to avoid a deep and
impassable portion of marsh, that stood between us and the direct route
to the Malagarazi River. The valley sloped rapidly to this marsh, which
received in its broad bosom the drainage of three extensive ranges. Soon
we turned our faces northwest, and prepared to cross the marsh; and
the guides informed us, as we halted on its eastern bank, of a terrible
catastrophe which occurred a few yards above where we were preparing to
cross. They told of an Arab and his caravan, consisting of thirty-five
slaves, who had suddenly sunk out of sight, and who were never more
heard of. This marsh, as it appeared to us, presented a breadth of some
hundreds of yards, on which grew a close network of grass, with much
decayed matter mixed up with it. In the centre of this, and underneath
it, ran a broad, deep, and rapid stream. As the guides proceeded across,
the men stole after them with cautious footsteps. As they arrived near
the centre we began to see this unstable grassy bridge, so curiously
provided by nature for us, move up and down in heavy languid
undulations, like the swell of the sea after a storm. Where the two
asses of the Expedition moved, the grassy waves rose a foot high; but
suddenly one unfortunate animal plunged his feet through, and as he was
unable to rise, he soon made a deep hollow, which was rapidly filling
with water. With the aid of ten men, however, we were enabled to lift
him bodily up and land him on a firmer part, and guiding them both
across rapidly, the entire caravan crossed without accident.

On arriving at the other side, we struck off to the north, and
found ourselves in a delightful country, in every way suitable for
agriculturists. Great rocks rose here and there, but in their fissures
rose stately trees, under whose umbrage nestled the villages of the
people. We found the various village elders greedy for cloth, but the
presence of the younger son of Nzogera's men restrained their propensity
for extortion. Goats and sheep were remarkably cheap, and in good
condition; and, consequently, to celebrate our arrival near the
Malagarazi, a flock of eight goats was slaughtered, and distributed to
the men.

November 1st.--Striking north-west, after leaving our camp, and
descending the slope of a mountain, we soon beheld the anxiously
looked-for Malagarazi, a narrow but deep stream, flowing through a
valley pent in by lofty mountains. Fish-eating birds lined the trees on
its banks; villages were thickly scattered about. Food was abundant and
cheap.

After travelling along the left bank of the river a few miles, we
arrived at the settlements recognizing Kiala as their ruler. I
had anticipated we should be able at once to cross the river, but
difficulties arose. We were told to camp, before any negotiations could
be entered into. When we demurred, we were informed we might cross the
river if we wished, but we should not be assisted by any Mvinza.

Being compelled to halt for this day, the tent was pitched in the middle
of one of the villages, and the bales were stored in one of the huts,
with four soldiers to guard them. After despatching an embassy to Kiala,
eldest son of the great chief Nzogera, to request permission to cross
the river as a peaceable caravan, Kiala sent word that the white man
should cross his river after the payment of fifty-six cloths! Fifty-six
cloths signified a bale nearly!

Here was another opportunity for diplomacy. Bombay and Asmani were
empowered to treat with Kiala about the honga, but it was not to exceed
twenty-five doti. At 6 A.M., having spoken for seven hours, the two men
returned, with the demand for thirteen doti for Nzogera, and ten doti
for Kiala. Poor Bombay was hoarse, but Asmani still smiled; and I
relented, congratulating myself that the preposterous demand, which was
simply robbery, was no worse.

Three hours later another demand was made. Kiala had been visited by a
couple of chiefs from his father; and the chiefs being told that a white
man was at the ferry, put in a claim for a couple of guns and a keg of
gunpowder. But here my patience was exhausted, and I declared that
they should have to take them by force, for I would never consent to be
robbed and despoiled after any such fashion.

Until 11 P.M., Bombay and Asmani were negotiating about this extra
demand, arguing, quarreling, threatening, until Bombay declared they
would talk him mad if it lasted much longer. I told Bombay to take two
cloths, one for each chief, and, if they did not consider it enough,
then I should fight. The present was taken, and the negotiations were
terminated at midnight.

November 2nd.--Ihata Island, one and a half hour west of Kiala's. We
arrived before the Island of Ihata, on the left bank of the Malagarazi,
at 5 p.m.; the morning having been wasted in puerile talk with the owner
of the canoes at the ferry. The final demand for ferriage across was
eight yards of cloth and four fundo* of sami-sami, or red beads; which
was at once paid. Four men, with their loads, were permitted to cross in
the small, unshapely, and cranky canoes. When the boatmen had discharged
their canoes of their passengers and cargoes, they were ordered to halt
on the other side, and, to my astonishment, another demand was made. The
ferrymen had found that two fundo of these were of short measure, and
two fundo more must be paid, otherwise the contract for ferrying us
across would be considered null and void. So two fundo more were
added, but not without demur and much "talk," which in these lands is
necessary.

** 4 fundo == 40 necklaces; 1 fundo being 10 necklaces.

Three times the canoes went backwards and forwards, when, lo! another
demand was made, with the usual clamour and fierce wordy dispute; this
time for five khete # for the man who guided us to the ferry, a shukka
of cloth for a babbler, who had attached himself to the old-womanish
Jumah, who did nothing but babble and increase the clamor. These demands
were also settled.

# Necklaces.

About sunset we endeavoured to cross the donkeys. "Simba," a fine wild
Kinyamwezi donkey, went in first, with a rope attached to his neck.
He had arrived at the middle of the stream when we saw him begin to
struggle--a crocodile had seized him by the throat. The poor animal's
struggles were terrific. Chowpereh was dragging on the rope with all his
might, but to no use, for the donkey sank, and we saw no more of him.
The depth of the river at this place was about fifteen feet. We had
seen the light-brown heads, the glittering eyes, and the ridgy backs,
hovering about the vicinity, but we had never thought that the reptiles
would advance so near such an exciting scene as the vicinity of the
ferry presented during the crossing. Saddened a little by this loss, we
resumed our work, and by 7 P.M. we were all across, excepting Bombay and
the only donkey now left, which was to be brought across in the morning,
when the crocodiles should have deserted the river.

November 3rd.--What contention have we not been a witness to these last
three days! What anxiety have we not suffered ever since our arrival in
Uvinza! The Wavinza are worse than the Wagogo, and their greed is
more insatiable. We got the donkey across with the aid of a mganga, or
medicine man, who spat some chewed leaves of a tree which grows close
to the stream over him. He informed me he could cross the river at any
time, day or night, after rubbing his body with these chewed leaves,
which he believed to be a most potent medicine.

About 10 A.M. appeared from the direction of Ujiji a caravan of eighty
Waguhha, a tribe which occupies a tract of country on the south-western
side of the Lake Tanganika. We asked the news, and were told a white man
had just arrived at Ujiji from Manyuema. This news startled us all.

"A white man?" we asked.

"Yes, a white man," they replied.

"How is he dressed?"

"Like the master," they answered, referring to me.

"Is he young, or old?"

"He is old. He has white hair on his face, and is sick."

"Where has he come from?"

"From a very far country away beyond Uguhha, called Manyuema."

"Indeed! and is he stopping at Ujiji now?"

"Yes, we saw him about eight days ago."

"Do you think he will stop there until we see him?"

"Sigue" (don't know).

"Was he ever at Ujiji before?"

"Yes, he went away a long time ago."

Hurrah! This is Livingstone! He must be Livingstone! He can be no other;
but still;--he may be some one else--some one from the West Coast--or
perhaps he is Baker! No; Baker has no white hair on his face. But we
must now march quick, lest he hears we are coming, and runs away.

I addressed my men, and asked them if they were willing to march to
Ujiji without a single halt, and then promised them, if they acceded to
my wishes, two doti each man. All answered in the affirmative, almost as
much rejoiced as I was myself. But I was madly rejoiced; intensely eager
to resolve the burning question, "Is it Dr. David Livingstone?" God
grant me patience, but I do wish there was a railroad, or, at least,
horses in this country.

We set out at once from the banks of the Malagarazi, accompanied by two
guides furnished us by Usenge, the old man of the ferry, who, now that
we had crossed, showed himself more amiably disposed to us. We arrived
at the village of Isinga, Sultan Katalambula, after a little over an
hour's march across a saline plain, but which as we advanced into the
interior became fertile and productive.

November 4th.--Started early with great caution, maintaining deep
silence. The guides were sent forward, one two hundred yards ahead of
the other, that we might be warned in time. The first part of the march
was through a thin jungle of dwarf trees, which got thinner and thinner
until finally it vanished altogether, and we had entered Uhha--a plain
country. Villages were visible by the score among the tall bleached
stalks of dourra and maize. Sometimes three, sometimes five, ten, or
twenty beehive-shaped huts formed a village. The Wahha were evidently
living in perfect security, for not one village amongst them all was
surrounded with the customary defence of an African village. A narrow
dry ditch formed the only boundary between Uhha and Uvinza. On entering
Uhha, all danger from Makumbi vanished.

We halted at Kawanga, the chief of which lost no time in making us
understand that he was the great Mutware of Kimenyi under the king, and
that he was the tribute gatherer for his Kiha majesty. He declared that
he was the only one in Kimenyi--an eastern division of Uhha--who could
demand tribute; and that it would be very satisfactory to him, and a
saving of trouble to ourselves, if we settled his claim of twelve doti
of good cloths at once. We did not think it the best way of proceeding,
knowing as we did the character of the native African; so we at once
proceeded to diminish this demand; but, after six hours' hot argument,
the Mutware only reduced it by two. This claim was then settled, upon
the understanding that we should be allowed to travel through Uhha as
far as the Rusugi River without being further mulcted.

November 5th.--Leaving Kawanga early in the morning and continuing our
march over the boundless plains, which were bleached white by the hot
equatorial sun, we were marching westward full of pleasant anticipations
that we were nearing the end of our troubles, joyfully congratulating
ourselves that within five days we should see that which I had come so
far from civilisation, and through so many difficulties, to see, and
were about passing a cluster of villages, with all the confidence which
men possess against whom no one had further claim or a word to say, when
I noticed two men darting from a group of natives who were watching
us, and running towards the head of the Expedition, with the object,
evidently, of preventing further progress.

The caravan stopped, and I walked forward to ascertain the cause from
the two natives. I was greeted politely by the two Wahha with the
usual "Yambos," and was then asked, "Why does the white man pass by the
village of the King of Uhha without salutation and a gift? Does not
the white man know there lives a king in Uhha, to whom the Wangwana and
Arabs pay something for right of passage?"

"Why, we paid last night to the chief of Kawanga, who informed us that
he was the man deputed by the King of Uhha to collect the toll."

"How much did you pay?"

"Ten doti of good cloth."

"Are you sure?"

"Quite sure. If you ask him, he will tell you so."

"Well," said one of the Wahha, a fine, handsome, intelligent-looking
youth, "it is our duty to the king to halt you here until we find out
the truth of this. Will you walk to our village, and rest yourselves
under the shade of our trees until we can send messengers to Kawanga?"

"No; the sun is but an hour high, and we have far to travel; but, in
order to show you we do not seek to pass through your country without
doing that which is right, we will rest where we now stand, and we will
send with your messengers two of our soldiers, who will show you the man
to whom we paid the cloth."

The messengers departed; but, in the meantime, the handsome youth, who
turned out to be the nephew of the King, whispered some order to a lad,
who immediately hastened away, with the speed of an antelope, to the
cluster of villages which we had just passed. The result of this errand,
as we saw in a short time, was the approach of a body of warriors, about
fifty in number, headed by a tall, fine-looking man, who was dressed in
a crimson robe called Joho, two ends of which were tied in a knot over
the left shoulder; a new piece of American sheeting was folded like a
turban around his head, and a large curved piece of polished ivory was
suspended to his neck. He and his people were all armed with spears, and
bows and arrows, and their advance was marked with a deliberation that
showed they felt confidence in any issue that might transpire.

We were halted on the eastern side of the Pombwe stream, near the
village of Lukomo, in Kimenyi, Uhha. The gorgeously-dressed chief was
a remarkable man in appearance. His face was oval in form, high
cheek-bones, eyes deeply sunk, a prominent and bold forehead, a fine
nose, and a well-cut mouth; he was tall in figure, and perfectly
symmetrical.

When near to us, he hailed me with the words,

"Yambo, bana?--How do you do, master?" in quite a cordial tone.

I replied cordially also, "Yambo, mutware?--How do you do, chief?"

We, myself and men, interchanged "Yambos" with his warriors; and there
was nothing in our first introduction to indicate that the meeting was
of a hostile character.

The chief seated himself, his haunches resting on his heels, laying down
his bow and arrows by his side; his men did likewise.

I seated myself on a bale, and each of my men sat down on their loads,
forming quite a semicircle. The Wahha slightly outnumbered my party;
but, while they were only armed with bows and arrows, spears, and
knob-sticks, we were armed with rifles, muskets, revolvers, pistols, and
hatchets.

All were seated, and deep silence was maintained by the assembly. The
great plains around us were as still in this bright noon as if they were
deserted of all living creatures. Then the chief spoke:

"I am Mionvu, the great Mutware of Kimenyi, and am next to the King, who
lives yonder," pointing to a large village near some naked hills about
ten miles to the north. "I have come to talk with the white man. It has
always been the custom of the Arabs and the Wangwana to make a present
to the King when they pass through his country. Does not the white man
mean to pay the King's dues? Why does the white man halt in the road?
Why will he not enter the village of Lukomo, where there is food and
shade--where we can discuss this thing quietly? Does the white man mean
to fight? I know well he is stronger than we are. His men have guns, and
the Wahha have but bows and arrows, and spears; but Uhha is large, and
our villages are many. Let him look about him everywhere--all is Uhha,
and our country extends much further than he can see or walk in a day.
The King of Uhha is strong; yet he wishes friendship only with the white
man. Will the white man have war or peace?"

A deep murmur of assent followed this speech of Mionvu from his people,
and disapprobation, blended with a certain uneasiness; from my men. When
about replying, the words of General Sherman, which I heard him utter to
the chiefs of the Arapahoes and Cheyennes at North Platte, in 1867,
came to my mind; and something of their spirit I embodied in my reply to
Mionvu, Mutware of Kimenyi.

"Mionvu, the great Mutware, asks me if I have come for war. When did
Mionvu ever hear of white men warring against black men? Mionvu must
understand that the white men are different from the black. White men do
not leave their country to fight the black people, neither do they
come here to buy ivory or slaves. They come to make friends with black
people; they come to search for rivers; and lakes, and mountains; they
come to discover what countries, what peoples, what rivers, what lakes,
what forests, what plains, what mountains and hills are in your country;
to know the different animals that are in the land of the black people,
that, when they go back, they may tell the white kings, and men, and
children, what they have seen and heard in the land so far from them.
The white people are different from the Arabs and Wangwana; the white
people know everything, and are very strong. When they fight, the Arabs
and the Wangwana run away. We have great guns which thunder, and when
they shoot the earth trembles; we have guns which carry bullets further
than you can see: even with these little things" (pointing to my
revolvers) "I could kill ten men quicker than you could count. We are
stronger than the Wahha. Mionvu has spoken the truth, yet we do not wish
to fight. I could kill Mionvu now, yet I talk to him as to a friend. I
wish to be a friend to Mionvu, and to all black people. Will Mionvu say
what I can do for him?"

As these words were translated to him--imperfectly, I suppose, but
still, intelligibly--the face of the Wahha showed how well they
appreciated them. Once or twice I thought I detected something like
fear, but my assertions that I desired peace and friendship with them
soon obliterated all such feelings.

Mionvu replied:

"The white man tells me he is friendly. Why does he not come to our
village? Why does he stop on the road? The sun is hot. Mionvu will not
speak here any more. If the white man is a friend he will come to the
village."

"We must stop now. It is noon. You have broken our march. We will go and
camp in your village," I said, at the same time rising and pointing to
the men to take up their loads.

We were compelled to camp; there was no help for it; the messengers had
not returned from Kawanga. Having arrived in his village, Mionvu had
cast himself at full length under the scanty shade afforded by a few
trees within the boma. About 2 P.M. the messengers returned, saying it
was true the chief of Kawanga had taken ten cloths; not, however for the
King of Uhha, but for himself!

Mionvu, who evidently was keen-witted, and knew perfectly what he was
about, now roused himself, and began to make miniature faggots of thin
canes, ten in each faggot, and shortly he presented ten of these small
bundles, which together contained one hundred, to me, saying each stick
represented a cloth, and the amount of the "honga" required by the King
of Uhha was ONE HUNDRED CLOTHS!--nearly two bales!

Recovering from our astonishment, which was almost indescribable, we
offered TEN.

"Ten! to the King of Uhha! Impossible. You do not stir from Lukomo until
you pay us one hundred!" exclaimed Mionvu, in a significant manner.

I returned no answer, but went to my hut, which Mionvu had cleared for
my use, and Bombay, Asmani, Mabruki, and Chowpereh were invited--to come
to me for consultation. Upon my asking them if we could not fight our
way through Uhha, they became terror-stricken, and Bombay, in imploring
accents, asked me to think well what I was about to do, because it was
useless to enter on a war with the Wahha. "Uhha is all a plain country;
we cannot hide anywhere. Every village will rise all about us, and how
can forty-five men fight thousands of people? They would kill us all in
a few minutes, and how would you ever reach Ujiji if you died? Think of
it, my dear master, and do not throw your life away for a few rags of
cloth."

"Well, but, Bombay, this is robbery. Shall we submit to be robbed? Shall
we give this fellow everything he asks? He might as well ask me for all
the cloth, and all my guns, without letting him see that we can fight. I
can kill Mionvu and his principal men myself, and you can slay all those
howlers out there without much trouble. If Mionvu and his principal were
dead we should not be troubled much, and we could strike south to the
Mala-garazi, and go west to Ujiji."

 "No, no, dear master, don't think of it for a moment.  If we went
 neat the Malagarazi we should come across Lokanda-Mira."

 "Well, then, we will go north."

 "Up that way Uhha extends far; and beyond Uhha are the Watuta."

 "Well, then, say what we shall do.  We must do something; but we
 must not be robbed."

 "Pay Mionvu what he asks, and let us go away from here.  This is
 the last place we shall have to pay.  And in four days we shall be
 in Ujiji."

 "Did Mionvu tell you that this is the last time we would have to
 pay?"

 "He did, indeed."

 "What do you say, Asmani?  Shall we fight or pay?"  Asmani's
 face wore the usual smile, but he replied,

 "I am afraid we must pay.  This is positively the last time."

 "And you, Chowpereh?"

 "Pay, bana; it is better to get along quietly in this country.
 If we were strong enough they would pay us.  Ah, if we had only
 two hundred guns, how these Wahha would run!"

 "What do you say, Mabruki?"

 "Ah, master, dear master; it is very hard, and these people are
 great robbers.  I would like to chop their heads off, all; so I
 would.  But you had better pay.  This is the last time; and what
 are one hundred cloths to you?"

 "Well, then, Bombay and Asmani, go to Mionvu, and offer him twenty.
 If he will not take twenty, give him thirty.  If he refuses thirty,
 give him forty; then go up to eighty, slowly.  Make plenty of talk;
 not one doti more.  I swear to you I will shoot Mionvu if he demands
 more than eighty.  Go, and remember to be wise."

 I will cut the matter short.  At 9 P.M. sixty-four doti were
 handed over to Mionvu, for the King of Uhha; six doti for
 himself, and five doti for his sub; altogether seventy-five doti--
 a bale and a quarter!  No sooner had we paid than they began to
 fight amongst themselves over the booty, and I was in hopes that
 the factions would proceed to battle, that I might have good excuse
 for leaving them, and plunging south to the jungle that I believed
 existed there, by which means, under its friendly cover, we might
 strike west.  But no, it was only a verbose war, which portended
 nothing more than a noisy clamor.

 November 6th.--At dawn we were on the road, very silent and sad.
 Our stock of cloth was much diminished; we had nine bales left,
 sufficient to have taken us to the Atlantic Ocean--aided by the
 beads, which were yet untouched--if we practised economy.  If I
 met many more like Mionvu I had not enough to take me to Ujiji,
 and, though we were said to be so near, Livingstone seemed to me
 to be just as far as ever.

 We crossed the Pombwe, and then struck across a slowly-undulating
 plain rising gradually to mountains on our right, and on our left
 sinking towards the valley of the Malagarazi, which river was
 about twenty miles away.  Villages rose to our view everywhere.
 Food was cheap, milk was plentiful, and the butter good.

 After a four hours' march, we crossed the Kanengi River, and
 entered the boma of Kahirigi, inhabited by several Watusi and Wahha.
 Here, we were told, lived the King of Uhha's brother.  This
 announcement was anything but welcome, and I began to suspect I had
 fallen into another hornets' nest.  We had not rested two hours
 before two Wangwana entered my tent, who were slaves of Thani bin
 Abdullah, our dandified friend of Unyanyembe.  These men came, on
 the part of the king's brother, to claim the HONGA!  The king's
 brother, demanded thirty doti!  Half a bale!  Merciful Providence!
 What shall I do?

 We had been told by Mionvu that the honga of Uhha was settled--and
 now here is another demand from the King's brother!  It is the
 second time the lie has been told, and we have twice been deceived.
 We shall be deceived no more.

 These two men informed us there were five more chiefs, living but
 two hours from each other, who would exact tribute, or black-mail,
 like those we had seen.  Knowing this much, I felt a certain calm.
 It was far better to know the worst at once.  Five more chiefs with
 their demands would assuredly ruin us.  In view of which, what is
 to be done?  How am I to reach Livingstone, without being beggared?

 Dismissing the men, I called Bombay, and told him to assist Asmani
 in settling the honga--"as cheaply as possible."  I then lit my
 pipe, put on the cap of consideration, and began to think.  Within
 half an hour, I had made a plan, which was to be attempted to be
 put in execution that very night.

 I summoned the two slaves of Thani bin Abdullah, after the honga
 had been settled to everybody's satisfaction--though the profoundest
 casuistries and diplomatic arguments failed to reduce it lower than
 twenty-six doti--and began asking them about the possibility of
 evading the tribute-taking Wahha ahead.

 This rather astonished them at first, and they declared it to be
 impossible; but, finally, after being pressed, they replied, that
 one of their number should guide us at midnight, or a little after,
 into the jungle which grew on the frontiers of Uhha and Uvinza.  By
 keeping a direct west course through this jungle until we came to
 Ukaranga we might be enabled--we were told--to travel through Uhha
 without further trouble.  If I were willing to pay the guide
 twelve doti, and if I were able to impose silence on my people
 while passing through the sleeping village, the guide was positive
 I could reach Ujiji without paying another doti.  It is needless to
 add, that I accepted the proffered assistance at such a price with
 joy.

 But there was much to be done.  Provisions were to be purchased,
 sufficient to last four days, for the tramp through the jungle,
 and men were at once sent with cloth to purchase grain at any price.
 Fortune favoured us, for before 8 P.M. we had enough for six days.

 November 7th.--I did not go to sleep at all last night, but a
 little after midnight, as the moon was beginning to show itself,
 by gangs of four, the men stole quietly out of the village; and
 by 3 A.M. the entire Expedition was outside the boma, and not the
 slightest alarm had been made.  After a signal to the new guide,
 the Expedition began to move in a southern direction along the
 right bank of the Kanengi River.  After an hour's march in this
 direction, we struck west, across the grassy plain, and maintained
 it, despite the obstacles we encountered, which were sore enough to
 naked men.  The bright moon lighted our path: dark clouds now and
 then cast immense long shadows over the deserted and silent plains,
 and the moonbeans were almost obscured, and at such times our
 position seemed awful--

 Till the moon.
 Rising in clouded majesty, at length,
 Apparent queen, unveiled her peerless light,
 And o'er the dark her silver mantle threw.

 Bravely toiled the men, without murmur, though their legs were
 bleeding from the cruel grass.  "Ambrosial morn" at last appeared,
 with all its beautiful and lovely features.  Heaven was born anew
 to us, with comforting omens and cheery promise.  The men, though
 fatigued at the unusual travel, sped forward with quicker, pace as
 daylight broke, until, at 8 A.M., we sighted the swift Rusugi River,
 when a halt was ordered in a clump of jungle near it, for breakfast
 and rest.  Both banks of the river were alive with buffalo, eland,
 and antelope, but, though the sight was very tempting, we did not
 fire, because we dared not.  The report of a gun would have alarmed
 the whole country.  I preferred my coffee, and the contentment which
 my mind experienced at our success.

 An hour after we had rested, some natives, carrying salt from the
 Malagarazi, were seen coming up the right bank of the river.  When
 abreast of our hiding-place, they detected us, and dropping their
 salt-bags, they took to their heels at once, shouting out as they
 ran, to alarm some villages that appeared about four miles north of
 us.  The men were immediately ordered to take up their loads, and
 in a few minutes we had crossed the Rusugi, and were making direct
 for a bamboo jungle that appeared in our front.  On, on, we kept
 steadily until, at 1 P.M., we sighted the little lake of Musunya,
 as wearied as possible with our nine hours march.

 Lake Musunya is one of the many circular basins found in this part
 of Uhha.  There was quite a group of them.  The more correct term
 of these lakes would be immense pools.  In the Masika season, Lake
 Musunya must extend to three or four miles in length by two in breadth.
 It swarms with hippopotami, and its shores abound with noble game.

 We were very quiet, as may be imagined, in our bivouac; neither
 tent nor hut was raised, nor was fire kindled, so that, in case of
 pursuit, we could move off without delay.  I kept my Winchester
 rifle (the gift of my friend Mr. Morris, and a rare gift it was
 for such a crisis) with its magazine full, and two hundred
 cartridges in a bag slung over my shoulders.  Each soldier's gun
 was also ready and loaded, and we retired to sleep our fatigues
 off with a feeling of perfect security.

 November 8th.--Long before dawn appeared, we were on the march, and,
 as daylight broke, we emerged from the bamboo jungle, and struck
 across the naked plain of Uhha, once more passing several large
 pools by the way--far-embracing prospects of undulating country,
 with here and there a characteristic clump of trees relieving the
 general nudity of the whole.  Hour after hour we toiled on,
 across the rolling land waves, the sun shining with all its wonted
 African fervor, but with its heat slightly tempered by the
 welcome breezes, which came laden with the fragrance of young
 grass, and perfume of strange flowers of various hues, that flecked
 the otherwise pale-green sheet which extended so far around us.

 We arrived at the Rugufu River--not the Ukawendi Rugufu, but the
 northern stream of that name, a tributary of the Malagarazi.  It
 was a broad shallow stream, and sluggish, with an almost imperceptible
 flow south-west.  While we halted in the deep shade afforded by a
 dense clump of jungle, close to the right bank, resting awhile before
 continuing our journey.  I distinctly heard a sound as of distant
 thunder in the west.  Upon asking if it were thunder, I was told it
 was Kabogo.

 "Kabogo? what is that?"

 "It is a great mountain on the other side of the Tanganika, full
 of deep holes, into which the water rolls; and when there is wind
 on the Tanganika, there is a sound like mvuha (thunder).  Many
 boats have been lost there, and it is a custom with Arabs and
 natives to throw cloth--Merikani and Kaniki--and especially white
 (Merikani) beads, to appease the mulungu (god) of the lake.
 Those who throw beads generally get past without trouble,
 but those who do not throw beads into the lake get lost, and are
 drowned.  Oh, it is a dreadful place!"  This story was told me by
 the ever-smiling guide Asmani, and was corroborated by other
 former mariners of the lake whom I had with me.

 At the least, this place where we halted for dinner, on the banks
 of the Rugufu River, is eighteen and a half hours, or forty-six
 miles, from Ujiji; and, as Kabogo is said to be near Uguhha, it
 must be over sixty miles from Ujiji; therefore the sound of the
 thundering surf, which is said to roll into the caves of Kabogo,
 was heard by us at a distance of over one hundred miles away from
 them.

 Continuing our journey for three hours longer, through thin
 forests, over extensive beds of primitive rock, among fields of
 large boulders thickly strewn about, passing by numerous herds
 of buffalo, giraffe, and zebra, over a quaking quagmire which
 resembled peat, we arrived at the small stream of Sunuzzi, to a
 camping place only a mile removed from a large settlement of Wahha.
 But we were buried in the depths of a great forest--no road was in
 the vicinity, no noise was made, deep silence was preserved; nor
 were fires lit.  We might therefore rest tranquilly secure, certain
 that we should not be disturbed.  To-morrow morning the kirangozi
 has promised we shall be out of Uhha, and if we travel on to
 Niamtaga, in Ukaranga, the same day, the next day would see us
 in Ujiji.

 Patience, my soul!  A few hours more, then the end of all this
 will be known!  I shall be face to face with that "white man with
 the white hairs on his face, whoever he is!"

 November 9th.--Two hours before dawn we left our camp on the Sunuzzi
 River, and struck through the forest in a north-by-west direction,
 having muzzled our goats previously, lest, by their bleating, they
 might betray us.  This was a mistake which might have ended
 tragically, for just as the eastern sky began to assume a pale
 greyish tint, we emerged from the jungle on the high road.  The
 guide thought we had passed Uhha, and set up a shout which was
 echoed by every member of the caravan, and marched onward with
 new vigor and increased energy, when plump we came to the outskirts
 of a village, the inhabitants of which were beginning to stir.
 Silence was called for at once, and the Expedition halted
 immediately.  I walked forward to the front to advise with the guide.
 He did not know what to do.  There was no time to consider, so I
 ordered the goats to be slaughtered and left on the road, and the
 guide to push on boldly through the village.  The chickens also had
 their throats cut; after which the Expedition resumed the march
 quickly and silently, led by the guide, who had orders to plunge
 into the jungle south of the road.  I stayed until the last man
 had disappeared; then, after preparing my Winchester, brought up
 the rear, followed by my gunbearers with their stock of ammunition.
 As we were about disappearing beyond the last hut, a man darted out
 of his hut, and uttered an exclamation of alarm, and loud voices
 were heard as if in dispute.  But in a short time we were in the
 depths of the jungle, hurrying away from the road in a southern
 direction, and edging slightly westward.  Once I thought we were
 pursued, and I halted behind a tree to check our foes if they
 persisted in following us; but a few minutes proved to me that we
 were not pursued, After half-an-hour's march we again turned our
 faces westward.  It was broad daylight now, and our eyes were
 delighted with most picturesque and sequestered little valleys,
 where wild fruit-trees grew, and rare flowers blossomed, and
 tiny brooks tumbled over polished pebbles--where all was bright
 and beautiful--until, finally, wading through one pretty pure
 streamlet, whose soft murmurs we took for a gentle welcome, we
 passed the boundary of wicked Uhha, and had entered Ukaranga!--
 an event that was hailed with extravagant shouts of joy.

 Presently we found the smooth road, and we trod gaily with
 elastic steps, with limbs quickened for the march which we all
 knew to be drawing near its end.  What cared we now for the
 difficulties we had encountered--for the rough and cruel forests,
 for the thorny thickets and hurtful grass, for the jangle of all
 savagedom, of which we had been the joyless audience!  To-morrow!
 Ay, the great day draws nigh, and we may well laugh and sing while
 in this triumphant mood.  We have been sorely tried; we have been
 angry with each other when vexed by troubles, but we forget all
 these now, and there is no face but is radiant with the happiness
 we have all deserved.

 We made a short halt at noon, for rest and refreshment.  I was
 shown the hills from which the Tanganika could be seen, which
 bounded the valley of the Liuche on the east.  I could not contain
 myself at the sight of them.  Even with this short halt I was
 restless and unsatisfied.  We resumed the march again.  I spurred
 my men forward with the promise that to-morrow should see their reward.

 We were in sight of the villages of the Wakaranga; the people
 caught sight of us, and manifested considerable excitement.  I sent
 men ahead to reassure them, and they came forward to greet us.  This
 was so new and welcome to us, so different from the turbulent Wavinza
 and the black-mailers of Uhha, that we were melted.  But we had
 no time to loiter by the way to indulge our joy.  I was impelled onward
 by my almost uncontrollable feelings.  I wished to resolve my doubts
 and fears.  Was HE still there?  Had HE heard of my coming?  Would HE
 fly?

 How beautiful Ukaranga appears!  The green hills are crowned by
 clusters of straw-thatched cones.  The hills rise and fall; here
 denuded and cultivated, there in pasturage, here timbered, yonder
 swarming with huts.  The country has somewhat the aspect of Maryland.

 We cross the Mkuti, a glorious little river!  We ascend the opposite
 bank, and stride through the forest like men who have done a deed
 of which they may be proud.  We have already travelled nine hours,
 and the sun is sinking rapidly towards the west; yet, apparently,
 we are not fatigued.

 We reach the outskirts of Niamtaga, and we hear drums beat.  The
 people are flying into the woods; they desert their villages, for
 they take us to be Ruga-Ruga--the forest thieves of Mirambo, who,
 after conquering the Arabs of Unyanyembe, are coming to fight the
 Arabs of Ujiji.  Even the King flies from his village, and every
 man, woman, and child, terror-stricken, follows him.  We enter
 into it and quietly take possession.  Finally, the word is bruited
 about that we are Wangwana, from Unyanyembe.

 "Well, then, is Mirambo dead?" they ask.

 "No," we answer.

 "Well, how did you come to Ukaranga?"

 "By way of Ukonongo, Ukawendi, and Uhha."

 "Oh--hi-le!" Then they laugh heartily at their fright, and begin
 to make excuses.  The King is introduced to me, and he says he had
 only gone to the woods in order to attack us again--he meant to have
 come back and killed us all, if we had been Ruga-Ruga.  But then we
 know the poor King was terribly frightened, and would never have
 dared to return, had we been RugaRuga--not he.  We are not, however,
 in a mood to quarrel with him about an idiomatic phrase peculiar
 to him, but rather take him by the hand and shake it well, and say
 we are so very glad to see him.  And he shares in our pleasure,
 and immediately three of the fattest sheep, pots of beer, flour,
 and honey are brought to us as a gift, and I make him happier still
 with two of the finest cloths I have in my bales; and thus a
 friendly pact is entered into between us.

 While I write my Diary of this day's proceedings, I tell my
 servant to lay out my new flannel suit, to oil my boots, to
 chalk my helmet, and fold a new puggaree around it, that I may
 make as presentable an appearance as possible before the white
 man with the grey beard, and before the Arabs of Ujiji; for the
 clothes I have worn through jungle and forest are in tatters.
 Good-night; only let one day come again, and we shall see what
 we shall see.

 November 10th. Friday.--The 236th day from Bagamoyo on the Sea,
 and the 51st day from Unyanyembe.  General direction to Ujiji,
 west-by-south.  Time of march, six hours.

 It is a happy, glorious morning.  The air is fresh and cool.
 The sky lovingly smiles on the earth and her children.  The deep
 woods are crowned in bright vernal leafage; the water of the Mkuti,
 rushing under the emerald shade afforded by the bearded banks,
 seems to challenge us for the race to Ujiji, with its continuous
 brawl.

 We are all outside the village cane fence, every man of us looking
 as spruce, as neat, and happy as when we embarked on the dhows at
 Zanzibar, which seems to us to have been ages ago--we have witnessed
 and experienced so much.

 "Forward!"

 "Ay Wallah, ay Wallah, bana yango!" and the lighthearted braves
 stride away at a rate which must soon bring us within view of
 Ujiji.  We ascend a hill overgrown with bamboo, descend into a
 ravine through which dashes an impetuous little torrent, ascend
 another short hill, then, along a smooth footpath running across
 the slope of a long ridge, we push on as only eager, lighthearted
 men can do.

 In two hours I am warned to prepare for a view of the Tanganika,
 for, from the top of a steep mountain the kirangozi says I can see
 it.  I almost vent the feeling of my heart in cries.  But wait, we
 must behold it first.  And we press forward and up the hill
 breathlessly, lest the grand scene hasten away.  We are at last on
 the summit.  Ah! not yet can it be seen.  A little further on--just
 yonder, oh! there it is--a silvery gleam.  I merely catch sight of
 it between the trees, and--but here it is at last!  True--THE TANGANIKA!
 and there are the blue-black mountains of Ugoma and Ukaramba.  An
 immense broad sheet, a burnished bed of silver--lucid canopy of
 blue above--lofty mountains are its valances, palm forests form its
 fringes!  The Tanganika!--Hurrah! and the men respond to the
 exultant cry of the Anglo-Saxon with the lungs of Stentors, and the
 great forests and the hills seem to share in our triumph.

 "Was this the place where Burton and Speke stood, Bombay, when they
 saw the lake first?"

 "I don't remember, master; it was somewhere about here, I think."

 "Poor fellows!  The one was half-paralyzed, the other half-blind,"
 said Sir Roderick Murchison, when he described Burton and Spoke's
 arrival in view of the Tanganika.

 And I?  Well, I am so happy that, were I quite paralyzed and
 blinded, I think that at this supreme moment I could take up my
 bed and walk, and all blindness would cease at once.  Fortunately,
 however, I am quite well; I have not suffered a day's sickness
 since the day I left Unyanyembe.  How much would Shaw be willing
 to give to be in my place now?  Who is happiest--he revelling in
 the luxuries of Unyanyembe, or I, standing on the summit of this
 mountain, looking down with glad eyes and proud heart on the
 Tanganika?

 We are descending the western slope of the mountain, with the
 valley of the Liuche before us.  Something like an hour before
 noon we have gained the thick matete brake, which grows on both
 banks of the river; we wade through the clear stream, arrive on
 the other side, emerge out of the brake, and the gardens of the
 Wajiji are around us--a perfect marvel of vegetable wealth.
 Details escape my hasty and partial observation.  I am almost
 overpowered with my own emotions.  I notice the graceful palms,
 neat plots, green with vegetable plants, and small villages
 surrounded with frail fences of the matete-cane.

 We push on rapidly, lest the news of our coming might reach the
 people of Ujiji before we come in sight, and are ready for them.
 We halt at a little brook, then ascend the long slope of a naked
 ridge, the very last of the myriads we have crossed.  This alone
 prevents us from seeing the lake in all its vastness.  We arrive
 at the summit, travel across and arrive at its western rim, and--
 pause, reader--the port of Ujiji is below us, embowered in the
 palms, only five hundred yards from us!

 At this grand moment we do not think of the hundreds of miles we
 have marched, or of the hundreds of hills that we have ascended
 and descended, or of the many forests we have traversed, or of the
 jungles and thickets that annoyed us, or of the fervid salt plains
 that blistered our feet, or of the hot suns that scorched us, nor
 of the dangers and difficulties, now happily surmounted!

 At last the sublime hour has arrived;--our dreams, our hopes, and
 anticipations are now about to be realised!  Our hearts and our
 feelings are with our eyes, as we peer into the palms and try to
 make out in which hut or house lives the "white man with the grey
 beard" we heard about when we were at the Malagarazi.

 "Unfurl the flags, and load your guns!"

 "We will, master, we will, master!" respond the men eagerly.

 "One, two, three,--fire!"

 A volley from nearly fifty guns roars like a salute from a
 battery of artillery: we shall note its effect presently on
 the peaceful-looking village below.

 "Now, kirangozi, hold the white man's flag up high, and let the
 Zanzibar flag bring up the rear.  And you men keep close together,
 and keep firing until we halt in the market-place, or before the
 white man's house.  You have said to me often that you could smell
 the fish of the Tanganika--I can smell the fish of the Tanganika
 now.  There are fish, and beer, and a long rest waiting for you.
 MARCH!"

 Before we had gone a hundred yards our repeated volleys had the
 effect desired.  We had awakened Ujiji to the knowledge that a
 caravan was coming, and the people were witnessed rushing up in
 hundreds to meet us.  The mere sight of the flags informed every
 one immediately that we were a caravan, but the American flag
 borne aloft by gigantic Asmani, whose face was one vast smile on
 this day, rather staggered them at first.  However, many of the
 people who now approached us, remembered the flag.  They had seen
 it float above the American Consulate, and from the mast-head of
 many a ship in the harbor of Zanzibar, and they were soon heard
 welcoming the beautiful flag with cries of "Bindera Kisungu!"--a
 white man's flag!  "Bindera Merikani!"--the American flag!

 Then we were surrounded by them: by Wajiji, Wanyamwezi, Wangwana,
 Warundi, Waguhha, Wamanyuema, and Arabs, and were almost
 deafened with the shouts of "Yambo, yambo, bana!  Yambo, bana!
 Yambo, bana!" To all and each of my men the welcome was given.

 We were now about three hundred yards from the village of Ujiji,
 and the crowds are dense about me.  Suddenly I hear a voice on
 my right say,

 "Good morning, sir!"

 Startled at hearing this greeting in the midst of such a crowd of
 black people, I turn sharply around in search of the man, and see
 him at my side, with the blackest of faces, but animated and
 joyous--a man dressed in a long white shirt, with a turban of
 American sheeting around his woolly head, and I ask:

 "Who the mischief are you?"

 "I am Susi, the servant of Dr. Livingstone," said be, smiling,
 and showing a gleaming row of teeth.

 "What!  Is Dr. Livingstone here?"

 "Yes, sir."

 "In this village?"

 "Yes, sir."

 "Are you sure?"

 "Sure, sure, sir.  Why, I leave him just now."

 "Good morning, sir," said another voice.

 "Hallo," said I, "is this another one?"

 "Yes, sir."

 "Well, what is your name?"

 "My name is Chumah, sir."

 "What! are you Chumah, the friend of Wekotani?"

 "Yes, sir."

 "And is the-Doctor well?"

 "Not very well, sir."

 "Where has he been so long?"

 "In Manyuema."

 "Now, you Susi, run, and tell the Doctor I am coming."

 "Yes, sir," and off he darted like a madman.

 But by this time we were within two hundred yards of the village,
 and the multitude was getting denser, and almost preventing our
 march.  Flags and streamers were out; Arabs and Wangwana were
 pushing their way through the natives in order to greet us, for
 according to their account, we belonged to them.  But the great
 wonder of all was, "How did you come from Unyanyembe?"

 Soon Susi came running back, and asked me my name; he had told
 the Doctor I was coming, but the Doctor was too surprised to believe
 him, and when the Doctor asked him my name, Susi was rather staggered.

 But, during Susi's absence, the news had been conveyed to the
 Doctor that it was surely a white man that was coming, whose guns
 were firing, and whose flag could be seen; and the great Arab
 magnates of Ujiji--Mohammed bin Sali, Sayd bin Majid, Abid bin
 Suliman, Mohammed bin Gharib, and others--had gathered together
 before the Doctor's house, and the Doctor had come out from his
 veranda to discuss the matter and await my arrival.

 In the meantime, the head of the Expedition had halted, and the
 kirangozi was out of the ranks, holding his flag aloft, and Selim
 said to me, "I see the Doctor, sir.  Oh, what an old man!  He has
 got a white beard."  And I--what would I not have given for a bit
 of friendly wilderness, where, unseen, I might vent my joy in some
 mad freak, such as idiotically biting my hand; turning a somersault,
 or slashing at trees, in order to allay those exciting feelings
 that were well-nigh uncontrollable.  My heart beats fast, but I must
 not let my face betray my emotions, lest it shall detract from the
 dignity of a white man appearing under such extraordinary circumstances.

 So I did that which I thought was most dignified.  I pushed back
 the crowds, and, passing from the rear, walked down a living avenue
 of people, until I came in front of the semicircle of Arabs, before
 which stood the "white man with the grey beard."

 As I advanced slowly towards him I noticed he was pale, that he
 looked wearied and wan, that he had grey whiskers and moustache,
 that he wore a bluish cloth cap with a faded gold band on a red
 ground round it, and that he had on a red-sleeved waistcoat, and a
 pair of grey tweed trousers.

 I would have run to him, only I was a coward in the presence of
 such a mob--would have embraced him, but that I did not know how
 he would receive me; so I did what moral cowardice and false pride
 suggested was the best thing--walked deliberately to him, took off
 my hat, and said:

 "DR. LIVINGSTONE, I PRESUME?"

 "Yes," said he, with a kind, cordial smile, lifting his cap slightly.

 I replaced my hat on my head, and he replaced his cap, and we
 both grasped hands.  I then said aloud:

 "I thank God, Doctor, I have been permitted to see you."

 He answered, "I feel thankful that I am here to welcome you."

 I turned to the Arabs, took off my hat to them in response to the
 saluting chorus of "Yambos" I received, and the Doctor introduced
 them to me by name.  Then, oblivious of the crowds, oblivious of
 the men who shared with me my dangers, we--Livingstone and I--
 turned our faces towards his house.  He pointed to the veranda,
 or rather, mud platform, under the broad overhanging eaves; he
 pointed to his own particular seat, which I saw his age and
 experience in Africa had suggested, namely, a straw mat, with a
 goatskin over it, and another skin nailed against the wall to
 protect his back from contact with the cold mud.  I protested
 against taking this seat, which so much more befitted him than I,
 but the Doctor would not yield: I must take it.

 We were seated--the Doctor and I--with our backs to the wall.
 The Arabs took seats on our left.  More than a thousand natives
 were in our front, filling the whole square densely, indulging
 their curiosity, and discussing the fact of two white men meeting
 at Ujiji--one just come from Manyuema, in the west, the other from
 Unyanyembe, in the east.

 Conversation began.  What about?  I declare I have forgotten.
 Oh! we mutually asked questions of one another, such as
 "How did you come here?" and "Where have you been all this long
 time?--the world has believed you to be dead." Yes, that was the
 way it began: but whatever the Doctor informed me, and that which
 I communicated to him, I cannot correctly report, for I found myself
 gazing at him, conning the wonderful figure and face of the man at
 whose side I now sat in Central Africa.  Every hair of his head
 and beard, every wrinkle of his face, the wanness of his features,
 and the slightly wearied look he wore, were all imparting
 intelligence to me--the knowledge I craved for so much ever since
 I heard the words, "Take what you want, but find Livingstone."
 What I saw was deeply interesting intelligence to me, and unvarnished
 truth.  I was listening and reading at the same time.  What did these
 dumb witnesses relate to me?

 Oh, reader, had you been at my side on this day in Ujiji, how
 eloquently could be told the nature of this man's work!  Had you
 been there but to see and hear!  His lips gave me the details; lips
 that never lie.  I cannot repeat what he said; I was too much
 engrossed to take my note-book out, and begin to stenograph his story.
 He had so much to say that he began at the end, seemingly oblivious
 of the fact that five or six years had to be accounted for.  But his
 account was oozing out; it was growing fast into grand proportions--
 into a most marvellous history of deeds.

 The Arabs rose up, with a delicacy I approved, as if they intuitively
 knew that we ought to be left to ourselves.  I sent Bombay with them
 to give them the news they also wanted so much to know about the
 affairs at Unyanyembe.  Sayd bin Majid was the father of the gallant
 young man whom I saw at Masangi, and who fought with me at Zimbizo,
 and who soon afterwards was killed by Mirambo's Ruga-Ruga in the
 forest of Wilyankuru; and, knowing that I had been there, he
 earnestly desired to hear the tale of the fight; but they had all
 friends at Unyanyembe, and it was but natural that they should be
 anxious to hear of what concerned them.

 After giving orders to Bombay and Asmani for the provisioning of
 the men of the Expedition, I called "Kaif-Halek," or "How-do-ye-do,"
 and introduced him to Dr. Livingstone as one of the soldiers in
 charge of certain goods left at Unyanyembe, whom I had compelled
 to accompany me to Ujiji, that he might deliver in person to his
 master the letter-bag with which he had been entrusted.  This was
 that famous letter-bag marked "Nov. 1st, 1870," which was now
 delivered into the Doctor's hands 365 days after it left Zanzibar!
 How long, I wonder, had it remained at Unyanyembe had I not been
 despatched into Central Africa in search of the great traveller?

 The Doctor kept the letter-bag on his knee, then, presently, opened
 it, looked at the letters contained there, and read one or two of
 his children's letters, his face in the meanwhile lighting up.

 He asked me to tell him the news.  "No, Doctor," said I, "read your
 letters first, which I am sure you must be impatient to read."

 "Ah," said he, "I have waited years for letters, and I have been
 taught patience.  I can surely afford to wait a few hours longer.
 No, tell me the general news: how is the world getting along?

 "You probably know much already.  Do you know that the Suez Canal
 is a fact--is opened, and a regular trade carried on between Europe
 and India through it?"

 "I did not hear about the opening of it.  Well, that is grand news!
 What else?"

 Shortly I found myself enacting the part of an annual periodical
 to him.  There was no need of exaggeration of any penny-a-line
 news, or of any sensationalism.  The world had witnessed and
 experienced much the last few years.  The Pacific Railroad had been
 completed (1869); Grant had been elected President of the United States;
 Egypt had been flooded with savans: the Cretan rebellion had
 terminated (1866-1868); a Spanish revolution had driven Isabella
 from the throne of Spain, and a Regent had been appointed: General
 Prim was assassinated; a Castelar had electrified Europe with his
 advanced ideas upon the liberty of worship; Prussia had humbled Denmark,
 and annexed Schleswig-Holstein <1864>, and her armies were now around
 Paris; the "Man of Destiny" was a prisoner at Wilhelmshohe;
 the Queen of Fashion and the Empress of the French was a fugitive;
 and the child born in the purple had lost for ever the Imperial
 crown intended for his head; the Napoleon dynasty was extinguished
 by the Prussians, Bismarck and Von Moltke; and France, the proud
 empire, was humbled to the dust.

 What could a man have exaggerated of these facts?  What a budget
 of news it was to one who had emerged from the depths of the
 primeval forests of Manyuema!  The reflection of the dazzling
 light of civilisation was cast on him while Livingstone was thus
 listening in wonder to one of the most exciting pages of history
 ever repeated.  How the puny deeds of barbarism paled before
 these!  Who could tell under what new phases of uneasy life Europe
 was labouring even then, while we, two of her lonely children,
 rehearsed the tale of her late woes and glories?  More worthily,
 perhaps, had the tongue of a lyric Demodocus recounted them; but,
 in the absence of the poet, the newspaper correspondent performed
 his part as well and truthfully as he could.

 Not long after the Arabs had departed, a dishful of hot hashed-meat
 cakes was sent to us by Sayd bin Majid, and a curried chicken was
 received from Mohammed bin Sali, and Moeni Kheri sent a dishful of
 stewed goat-meat and rice; and thus presents of food came in
 succession, and as fast as they were brought we set to.  I had a
 healthy, stubborn digestion--the exercise I had taken had put it in
 prime order; but Livingstone--he had been complaining that he had
 no appetite, that his stomach refused everything but a cup of tea
 now and then--he ate also--ate like a vigorous, hungry man; and,
 as he vied with me in demolishing the pancakes, he kept repeating,
 "You have brought me new life.  You have brought me new life."

 "Oh, by George!" I said, "I have forgotten something.  Hasten,
 Selim, and bring that bottle; you know which and bring me the silver
 goblets.  I brought this bottle on purpose for this event, which
 I hoped would come to pass, though often it seemed useless to expect
 it."

 Selim knew where the bottle was, and he soon returned with it--a
 bottle of Sillery champagne; and, handing the Doctor a silver
 goblet brimful of the exhilarating wine, and pouring a small
 quantity into my own, I said,

 "Dr. Livingstone, to your very good health, sir."

 "And to yours!" he responded, smilingly.

 And the champagne I had treasured for this happy meeting was drunk
 with hearty good wishes to each other.

 But we kept on talking and talking, and prepared food was being
 brought to us all that afternoon; and we kept on eating each time
 it was brought, until I had eaten even to repletion, and the Doctor
 was obliged to confess that he had eaten enough.  Still, Halimah,
 the female cook of the Doctor's establishment, was in a state of
 the greatest excitement.  She had been protruding her head out of
 the cookhouse to make sure that there were really two white men
 sitting down in the veranda, when there used to be only one, who
 would not, because he could not, eat anything; and she had been
 considerably exercised in her mind about this fact.  She was
 afraid the Doctor did not properly appreciate her culinary
 abilities; but now she was amazed at the extraordinary quantity
 of food eaten, and she was in a state of delightful excitement.
 We could hear her tongue rolling off a tremendous volume of
 clatter to the wondering crowds who halted before the kitchen
 to hear the current of news with which she edified them.  Poor,
 faithful soul!  While we listened to the noise of her furious
 gossip, the Doctor related her faithful services, and the
 terrible anxiety she evinced when the guns first announced
 the  arrival of another white man in Ujiji; how she had been
 flying about in a state cf the utmost excitement, from the kitchen
 into his presence, and out again into the square, asking all sorts
 of questions; how she was in despair at the scantiness of the
 general larder and treasury of the strange household; how she
 was anxious to make up for their poverty by a grand appearance--
 to make up a sort of Barmecide feast to welcome the white man.
 "Why," said she, "is he not one of us?  Does he not bring plenty
 of cloth and beads?  Talk about the Arabs!  Who are they that
 they should be compared to white men?  Arabs, indeed!"

 The Doctor and I conversed upon many things, especially upon his
 own immediate troubles, and his disappointments, upon his arrival
 in Ujiji, when told that all his goods had been sold, and he was
 reduced to poverty.  He had but twenty cloths or so left of the
 stock he had deposited with the man called Sherif, the half-caste
 drunken tailor, who was sent by the Consul in charge of the goods.
 Besides which he had been suffering from an attack of dysentery,
 and his condition was most deplorable.  He was but little improved
 on this day, though he had eaten well, and already began to feel
 stronger and better.

 This day, like all others, though big with happiness to me, at last
 was fading away.  While sitting with our faces looking to the east,
 as Livingstone had been sitting for days preceding my arrival, we
 noted the dark shadows which crept up above the grove of palms
 beyond the village, and above the rampart of mountains which we had
 crossed that day, now looming through the fast approaching
 darkness; and we listened, with our hearts full of gratitude to
 the Great Giver of Good and Dispenser of all Happiness, to the
 sonorous thunder of the surf of the Tanganika, and to the chorus
 which the night insects sang.  Hours passed, and we were still
 sitting there with our minds busy upon the day's remarkable events,
 when I remembered that the traveller had not yet read his letters.

 "Doctor," I said, "you had better read your letters.  I will not
 keep you up any longer."

 "Yes," he answered, "it is getting late; and I will go and read
 my friends' letters.  Good-night, and God bless you."

 "Good-night, my dear Doctor; and let me hope that your news will
 be such as you desire."

 I have now related, by means of my Diary, "How I found Livingstone,"
 as recorded on the evening of that great day.  I have been averse
 to reduce it by process of excision and suppression, into a mere
 cold narrative, because, by so doing, I would be unable to record
 what feelings swayed each member of the Expedition as well as myself
 during the days preceding the discovery of the lost traveller, and
 more especially the day it was the good fortune of both Livingstone
 and myself to clasp each other's hands in the strong friendship
 which was born in that hour we thus strangely met.  The aged
 traveller, though cruelly belied, contrary to all previous expectation,
 received me as a friend; and the cordial warmth with which he accepted
 my greeting; the courtesy with which he tendered to me a shelter
 in his own house; the simple candour of his conversation; graced
 by unusual modesty of manner, and meekness of spirit, wrought in me
 such a violent reaction in his favor, that when the parting
 "good-night" was uttered, I felt a momentary vague fear lest the
 fulness of joy which I experienced that evening would be diminished
 by some envious fate, before the morrow's sun should rise above Ujiji.



CHAPTER XII. -- INTERCOURSE WITH LIVINGSTONE AT UJIJI--LIVINGSTONE'S OWN
STORY OF HIS JOURNEYS, HIS TROUBLES, AND DISAPPOINTMENTS.

 "If there is love between us, inconceivably delicious, and
 profitable will our intercourse be; if not, your time is lost,
 and you will only annoy me.  I shall seem to you stupid, and the
 reputation I have false.  All my good is magnetic, and I educate
 not by lessons, but by going about my business."--Emerson's
 'Representative Men'.


 I woke up early next morning with a sudden start.  The room was
 strange!  It was a house, and not my tent!  Ah, yes! I recollected
 I had discovered Livingstone, and I was in his house.  I listened,
 that the knowledge dawning on me might be confirmed by the sound
 of his voice.  I heard nothing but the sullen roar of the surf.

 I lay quietly in bed.  Bed!  Yes, it was a primitive four-poster,
 with the leaves of the palm-tree spread upon it instead of down,
 and horsehair and my bearskin spread over this serving me in place
 of linen.  I began to put myself under rigid mental cross-examination,
and to an analyzation of my position.

"What was I sent for?"

"To find Livingstone."

"Have you found him?"

"Yes, of course; am I not in his house? Whose compass is that hanging
on a peg there? Whose clothes, whose boots, are those? Who reads those
newspapers, those 'Saturday Reviews' and numbers of 'Punch' lying on the
floor?"

"Well, what are you going to do now?"

"I shall tell him this morning who sent me, and what brought me here.
I will then ask him to write a letter to Mr. Bennett, and to give
what news he can spare. I did not come here to rob him of his news.
Sufficient for me is it that I have found him. It is a complete success
so far. But it will be a greater one if he gives me letters for Mr.
Bennett, and an acknowledgment that he has seen me."

"Do you think he will do so?"

"Why not? I have come here to do him a service. He has no goods. I have.
He has no men with him. I have. If I do a friendly part by him, will he
not do a friendly part by me? What says the poet?--

              Nor hope to find
     A friend, but who has found a friend in thee.
     All like the purchase; few the price will pay
     And this makes friends such wonders here below.

I have paid the purchase, by coming so far to do him a service. But I
think, from what I have seen of him last night, that he is not such
a niggard and misanthrope as I was led to believe. He exhibited
considerable emotion, despite the monosyllabic greeting, when he shook
my hand. If he were a man to feel annoyance at any person coming after
him, he would not have received me as he did, nor would he ask me to
live with him, but he would have surlily refused to see me, and told
me to mind my own business. Neither does he mind my nationality; for
'here,' said he, 'Americans and Englishmen are the same people. We speak
the same language and have the same ideas.' Just so, Doctor; I agree
with you. Here at least, Americans and Englishmen shall be brothers,
and, whatever I can do for you, you may command me freely."

I dressed myself quietly, intending to take a stroll along the Tanganika
before the Doctor should rise; opened the door, which creaked horribly
on its hinges, and walked out to the veranda.

"Halloa, Doctor!--you up already? I hope you have slept well?"

"Good-morning, Mr. Stanley! I am glad to see you. I hope you rested
well. I sat up late reading my letters. You have brought me good and bad
news. But sit down." He made a place for me by his side. "Yes, many of
my friends are dead. My eldest son has met with a sad accident--that is,
my boy Tom; my second son, Oswell, is at college studying medicine, and
is doing well I am told. Agnes, my eldest daughter, has been enjoying
herself in a yacht, with 'Sir Paraffine' Young and his family. Sir
Roderick, also, is well, and expresses a hope that he will soon see me.
You have brought me quite a budget."

The man was not an apparition, then, and yesterday's scenes were not the
result of a dream! and I gazed on him intently, for thus I was assured
he had not run away, which was the great fear that constantly haunted me
as I was journeying to Ujiji.

"Now, Doctor," said I, "you are, probably, wondering why I came here?"

"It is true," said he; "I have been wondering. I thought you, at first,
an emissary of the French Government, in the place of Lieutenant Le
Saint, who died a few miles above Gondokoro. I heard you had boats,
plenty of men, and stores, and I really believed you were some French
officer, until I saw the American flag; and, to tell you the truth, I
was rather glad it was so, because I could not have talked to him in
French; and if he did not know English, we had been a pretty pair of
white men in Ujiji! I did not like to ask you yesterday, because I
thought it was none of my business."

"Well," said I, laughing, "for your sake I am glad that I am an American,
and not a Frenchman, and that we can understand each other perfectly
without an interpreter. I see that the Arabs are wondering that you, an
Englishman, and I, an American, understand each other. We must take care
not to tell them that the English and Americans have fought, and that
there are 'Alabama' claims left unsettled, and that we have such people
as Fenians in America, who hate you. But, seriously, Doctor--now don't
be frightened when I tell you that I have come after--YOU!"

"After me?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"Well. You have heard of the 'New York Herald?'"

"Oh--who has not heard of that newspaper?"

"Without his father's knowledge or consent, Mr. James Gordon Bennett,
son of Mr. James Gordon Bennett, the proprietor of the 'Herald,' has
commissioned me to find you--to get whatever news of your discoveries
you like to give--and to assist you, if I can, with means."

"Young Mr. Bennett told you to come after me, to find me out, and help
me! It is no wonder, then, you praised Mr. Bennett so much last night."

"I know him--I am proud to say--to be just what I say he is. He is an
ardent, generous, and true man."

"Well, indeed! I am very much obliged to him; and it makes me feel proud
to think that you Americans think so much of me. You have just come in
the proper time; for I was beginning to think that I should have to beg
from the Arabs. Even they are in want of cloth, and there are but few
beads in Ujiji. That fellow Sherif has robbed me of all. I wish I could
embody my thanks to Mr. Bennett in suitable words; but if I fail to do
so, do not, I beg of you, believe me the less grateful."

"And now, Doctor, having disposed of this little affair, Ferajji shall
bring breakfast; if you have no objection."

"You have given me an appetite," he said.

"Halimah is my cook, but she never can tell the difference between tea
and coffee."

Ferajji, the cook, was ready as usual with excellent tea, and a dish of
smoking cakes; "dampers," as the Doctor called them. I never did care
much for this kind of a cake fried in a pan, but they were necessary
to the Doctor, who had nearly lost all his teeth from the hard fare of
Lunda. He had been compelled to subsist on green ears of Indian corn;
there was no meat in that district; and the effort to gnaw at the
corn ears had loosened all his teeth. I preferred the corn scones of
Virginia, which, to my mind, were the nearest approach to palatable
bread obtainable in Central Africa.

The Doctor said he had thought me a most luxurious and rich man, when he
saw my great bath-tub carried on the shoulders of one of my men; but he
thought me still more luxurious this morning, when my knives and forks,
and plates, and cups, saucers, silver spoons, and silver teapot were
brought forth shining and bright, spread on a rich Persian carpet, and
observed that I was well attended to by my yellow and ebon Mercuries.

This was the beginning of our life at Ujiji. I knew him not as a friend
before my arrival. He was only an object to me--a great item for a daily
newspaper, as much as other subjects in which the voracious news-loving
public delight in. I had gone over battlefields, witnessed revolutions,
civil wars, rebellions, emeutes and massacres; stood close to the
condemned murderer to record his last struggles and last sighs; but
never had I been called to record anything that moved me so much as this
man's woes and sufferings, his privations and disappointments, which now
were poured into my ear. Verily did I begin to perceive that "the Gods
above do with just eyes survey the affairs of men." I began to recognize
the hand of an overruling and kindly Providence.

The following are singular facts worthy for reflection. I was,
commissioned for the duty of discovering Livingstone sometime in
October, 1869. Mr. Bennett was ready with the money, and I was ready for
the journey. But, observe, reader, that I did not proceed directly upon
the search mission. I had many tasks to fulfil before proceeding with
it, and many thousand miles to travel over. Supposing that I had
gone direct to Zanzibar from Paris, seven or eight months afterwards,
perhaps, I should have found myself at Ujiji, but Livingstone would not
have been found there then; he was on the Lualaba; and I should have
had to follow him on his devious tracks through the primeval forests of
Manyuema, and up along the crooked course of the Lualaba for hundreds
of miles. The time taken by me in travelling up the Nile, back to
Jerusalem, then to Constantinople, Southern Russia, the Caucasus, and
Persia, was employed by Livingstone in fruitful discoveries west of the
Tanganika. Again, consider that I arrived at Unyanyembe in the latter
part of June, and that owing to a war I was delayed three months at
Unyanyembe, leading a fretful, peevish and impatient life. But while I
was thus fretting myself, and being delayed by a series of accidents,
Livingstone was being forced back to Ujiji in the same month. It took
him from June to October to march to Ujiji. Now, in September, I broke
loose from the thraldom which accident had imposed on me, and hurried
southward to Ukonongo, then westward to Kawendi, then northward to
Uvinza, then westward to Ujiji, only about three weeks after the
Doctor's arrival, to find him resting under the veranda of his house
with his face turned eastward, the direction from which I was coming.
Had I gone direct from Paris on the search I might have lost him; had I
been enabled to have gone direct to Ujiji from Unyanyembe I might have
lost him.

The days came and went peacefully and happily, under the palms of Ujiji.
My companion was improving in health and spirits. Life had been brought
back to him; his fading vitality was restored, his enthusiasm for his
work was growing up again into a height that was compelling him to
desire to be up and doing. But what could he do, with five men and
fifteen or twenty cloths?

"Have you seen the northern head of the Tangannka, Doctor?" I asked one
day.

"No; I did try to go there, but the Wajiji were doing their best to
fleece me, as they did both Burton and Speke, and I had not a great deal
of cloth. If I had gone to the head of the Tanganika, I could not have
gone, to Manyuema. The central line of drainage was the most important,
and that is the Lualaba. Before this line the question whether there
is a connection between the Tanganika and the Albert N'Yanza sinks into
insignificance. The great line of drainage is the river flowing from
latitude 11 degrees south, which I followed for over seven degrees
northward. The Chambezi, the name given to its most southern extremity,
drains a large tract of country south of the southernmost source of the
Tanganika; it must, therefore, be the most important. I have not the
least doubt, myself, but that this lake is the Upper Tanganika, and the
Albert N'Yanza of Baker is the Lower Tanganika, which are connected by a
river flowing from the upper to the lower. This is my belief, based upon
reports of the Arabs, and a test I made of the flow with water-plants.
But I really never gave it much thought."

"Well, if I were you, Doctor, before leaving Ujiji, I should explore it,
and resolve the doubts upon the subject; lest, after you leave here,
you should not return by this way. The Royal Geographical Society attach
much importance to this supposed connection, and declare you are the
only man who can settle it. If I can be of any service to you, you may
command me. Though I did not come to Africa as an explorer, I have
a good deal of curiosity upon the subject, and should be willing to
accompany you. I have with me about twenty men who understand rowing we
have plenty of guns, cloth, and beads; and if we can get a canoe from
the Arabs we can manage the thing easily."

"Oh, we can get a canoe from Sayd bin Majid. This man has been very kind
to me, and if ever there was an Arab gentleman, he is one."

"Then it is settled, is it, that we go?"

"I am ready, whenever you are."

"I am at your command. Don't you hear my men call you the 'Great
Master,' and me the 'Little Master?' It would never do for the 'Little
Master' to command."

By this time Livingstone was becoming known to me. I defy any one to be
in his society long without thoroughly fathoming him, for in him there
is no guile, and what is apparent on the surface is the thing that is in
him. I simply write down my own opinion of the man as I have seen him,
not as he represents himself; as I know him to be, not as I have heard
of him. I lived with him from the 10th November, 1871, to the 14th
March, 1872; witnessed his conduct in the camp, and on the march, and
my feelings for him are those of unqualified admiration. The camp is the
best place to discover a man's weaknesses, where, if he is flighty or
wrong-headed, he is sure to develop his hobbies and weak side. I think
it possible, however, that Livingstone, with an unsuitable companion,
might feel annoyance. I know I should do so very readily, if a man's
character was of that oblique nature that it was an impossibility to
travel in his company. I have seen men, in whose company I felt nothing
but a thraldom, which it was a duty to my own self-respect to cast off
as soon as possible; a feeling of utter incompatibility, with whose
nature mine could never assimilate. But Livingstone was a character that
I venerated, that called forth all my enthusiasm, that evoked nothing
but sincerest admiration.

Dr. Livingstone is about sixty years old, though after he was restored
to health he appeared more like a man who had not passed his fiftieth
year. His hair has a brownish colour yet, but is here and there streaked
with grey lines over the temples; his whiskers and moustache are
very grey. He shaves his chin daily. His eyes, which are hazel, are
remarkably bright; he has a sight keen as a hawk's. His teeth alone
indicate the weakness of age; the hard fare of Lunda has made havoc in
their lines. His form, which soon assumed a stoutish appearance, is a
little over the ordinary height with the slightest possible bow in the
shoulders. When walking he has a firm but heavy tread, like that of an
overworked or fatigued man. He is accustomed to wear a naval cap with
a semicircular peak, by which he has been identified throughout Africa.
His dress, when first I saw him, exhibited traces of patching and
repairing, but was scrupulously clean.

I was led to believe that Livingstone possessed a splenetic,
misanthropic temper; some have said that he is garrulous, that he is
demented; that he has utterly changed from the David Livingstone whom
people knew as the reverend missionary; that he takes no notes or
observations but such as those which no other person could read but
himself; and it was reported, before I proceeded to Central Africa, that
he was married to an African princess.

I respectfully beg to differ with all and each of the above statements.
I grant he is not an angel, but he approaches to that being as near
as the nature of a living man will allow. I never saw any spleen or
misanthropy in him--as for being garrulous, Dr. Livingstone is quite
the reverse: he is reserved, if anything; and to the man who says Dr.
Livingstone is changed, all I can say is, that he never could have known
him, for it is notorious that the Doctor has a fund of quiet humour,
which he exhibits at all times whenever he is among friends. I must
also beg leave to correct the gentleman who informed me that Livingstone
takes no notes or observations. The huge Letts's Diary which I carried
home to his daughter is full of notes, and there are no less than a
score of sheets within it filled with observations which he took during
the last trip he made to Manyuema alone; and in the middle of the book
there is sheet after sheet, column after column, carefully written, of
figures alone. A large letter which I received from him has been sent to
Sir Thomas MacLear, and this contains nothing but observations. During
the four months I was with him, I noticed him every evening making most
careful notes; and a large tin box that he has with him contains numbers
of field note-books, the contents of which I dare say will see the
light some time. His maps also evince great care and industry. As to the
report of his African marriage, it is unnecessary to say more than that
it is untrue, and it is utterly beneath a gentleman to hint at such a
thing in connection with the name of David Livingstone.

There is a good-natured abandon about Livingstone which was not lost
on me. Whenever he began to laugh, there was a contagion about it,
that compelled me to imitate him. It was such a laugh as Herr
Teufelsdrockh's--a laugh of the whole man from head to heel. If he
told a story, he related it in such a way as to convince one of its
truthfulness; his face was so lit up by the sly fun it contained, that I
was sure the story was worth relating, and worth listening to.

The wan features which had shocked me at first meeting, the heavy step
which told of age and hard travel, the grey beard and bowed shoulders,
belied the man. Underneath that well-worn exterior lay an endless fund
of high spirits and inexhaustible humour; that rugged frame of his
enclosed a young and most exuberant soul. Every day I heard innumerable
jokes and pleasant anecdotes; interesting hunting stories, in which his
friends Oswell, Webb, Vardon, and Gorden Cumming were almost always the
chief actors. I was not sure, at first, but this joviality, humour, and
abundant animal spirits were the result of a joyous hysteria; but as I
found they continued while I was with him, I am obliged to think them
natural.

Another thing which specially attracted my attention was his wonderfully
retentive memory. If we remember the many years he has spent in Africa,
deprived of books, we may well think it an uncommon memory that can
recite whole poems from Byron, Burns, Tennyson, Longfellow, Whittier,
and Lowell. The reason of this may be found, perhaps, in the fact, that
he has lived all his life almost, we may say, within himself. Zimmerman,
a great student of human nature, says on this subject "The unencumbered
mind recalls all that it has read, all that pleased the eye,
and delighted the ear; and reflecting on every idea which either
observation, or experience, or discourse has produced, gains new
information by every reflection. The intellect contemplates all the
former scenes of life; views by anticipation those that are yet to come;
and blends all ideas of past and future in the actual enjoyment of the
present moment." He has lived in a world which revolved inwardly, out
of which he seldom awoke except to attend to the immediate practical
necessities of himself and people; then relapsed again into the same
happy inner world, which he must have peopled with his own friends,
relations, acquaintances, familiar readings, ideas, and associations; so
that wherever he might be, or by whatsoever he was surrounded, his own
world always possessed more attractions to his cultured mind than were
yielded by external circumstances.

The study of Dr. Livingstone would not be complete if we did not take
the religious side of his character into consideration. His religion
is not of the theoretical kind, but it is a constant, earnest, sincere
practice. It is neither demonstrative nor loud, but manifests itself
in a quiet, practical way, and is always at work. It is not aggressive,
which sometimes is troublesome, if not impertinent. In him, religion
exhibits its loveliest features; it governs his conduct not only towards
his servants, but towards the natives, the bigoted Mohammedans, and all
who come in contact with him. Without it, Livingstone, with his ardent
temperament, his enthusiasm, his high spirit and courage, must have
become uncompanionable, and a hard master. Religion has tamed him, and
made him a Christian gentleman: the crude and wilful have been refined
and subdued; religion has made him the most companionable of men and
indulgent of masters--a man whose society is pleasurable.

In Livingstone I have seen many amiable traits. His gentleness never
forsakes him; his hopefulness never deserts him. No harassing anxieties,
distraction of mind, long separation from home and kindred, can make him
complain. He thinks "all will come out right at last;" he has such faith
in the goodness of Providence. The sport of adverse circumstances, the
plaything of the miserable beings sent to him from Zanzibar--he has been
baffled and worried, even almost to the grave, yet he will not desert
the charge imposed upon him by his friend, Sir Roderick Murchison. To
the stern dictates of duty, alone, has he sacrificed his home and ease,
the pleasures, refinements, and luxuries of civilized life. His is the
Spartan heroism, the inflexibility of the Roman, the enduring resolution
of the Anglo-Saxon--never to relinquish his work, though his heart
yearns for home; never to surrender his obligations until he can write
Finis to his work.

But you may take any point in Dr. Livingstone's character, and analyse
it carefully, and I would challenge any man to find a fault in it. He is
sensitive, I know; but so is any man of a high mind and generous nature.
He is sensitive on the point of being doubted or being criticised. An
extreme love of truth is one of his strongest characteristics, which
proves him to be a man of strictest principles, and conscientious
scruples; being such, he is naturally sensitive, and shrinks from any
attacks on the integrity of his observations, and the accuracy of his
reports. He is conscious of having laboured in the course of geography
and science with zeal and industry, to have been painstaking, and as
exact as circumstances would allow. Ordinary critics seldom take into
consideration circumstances, but, utterly regardless of the labor
expended in obtaining the least amount of geographical information in a
new land, environed by inconceivable dangers and difficulties, such
as Central Africa presents, they seem to take delight in rending to
tatters, and reducing to nil, the fruits of long years of labor, by
sharply-pointed shafts of ridicule and sneers.

Livingstone no doubt may be mistaken in some of his conclusions about
certain points in the geography of Central Africa, but he is not so
dogmatic and positive a man as to refuse conviction. He certainly
demands, when arguments in contra are used in opposition to him, higher
authority than abstract theory. His whole life is a testimony against
its unreliability, and his entire labor of years were in vain if theory
can be taken in evidence against personal observation and patient
investigation.

The reluctance he manifests to entertain suppositions, possibilities
regarding the nature, form, configuration of concrete immutable matter
like the earth, arises from the fact, that a man who commits himself
to theories about such an untheoretical subject as Central Africa
is deterred from bestirring himself to prove them by the test of
exploration. His opinion of such a man is, that he unfits himself
for his duty, that he is very likely to become a slave to theory--a
voluptuous fancy, which would master him.

It is his firm belief, that a man who rests his sole knowledge of the
geography of Africa on theory, deserves to be discredited. It has been
the fear of being discredited and criticised and so made to appear
before the world as a man who spent so many valuable years in Africa
for the sake of burdening the geographical mind with theory that has
detained him so long in Africa, doing his utmost to test the value of
the main theory which clung to him, and would cling to him until he
proved or disproved it.

This main theory is his belief that in the broad and mighty Lualaba he
has discovered the head waters of the Nile. His grounds for believing
this are of such nature and weight as to compel him to despise
the warning that years are advancing on him, and his former iron
constitution is failing. He believes his speculations on this point will
be verified; he believes he is strong enough to pursue his explorations
until he can return to his country, with the announcement that the
Lualaba is none other than the Nile.

On discovering that the insignificant stream called the Chambezi, which
rises between 10 degrees S. and 12 degrees S., flowed westerly, and then
northerly through several lakes, now under the names of the Chambezi,
then as the Luapula, and then as the Lualaba, and that it still
continued its flow towards the north for over 7 degrees, Livingstone
became firmly of the opinion that the river whose current he followed
was the Egyptian Nile. Failing at lat. 4 degrees S. to pursue his
explorations further without additional supplies, he determined to
return to Ujiji to obtain them.

And now, having obtained them, he intends to return to the point where
he left off work. He means to follow that great river until it is firmly
established what name shall eventually be given the noble water-way
whose course he has followed through so many sick toilings and
difficulties. To all entreaties to come home, to all the glowing
temptations which home and innumerable friends offer, he returns the
determined answer:--

"No; not until my work is ended."

I have often heard our servants discuss our respective merits. "Your
master," say my servants to Livingstone's, "is a good man--a very good
man; he does not beat you, for he has a kind heart; but ours--oh! he
is sharp--hot as fire"--"mkali sana, kana moto." From being hated and
thwarted in every possible way by the Arabs and half-castes upon
first arrival in Ujiji, he has, through his uniform kindness and mild,
pleasant temper, won all hearts. I observed that universal respect was
paid to him. Even the Mohammedans never passed his house without calling
to pay their compliments, and to say, "The blessing of God rest on you."
Each Sunday morning he gathers his little flock around him, and reads
prayers and a chapter from the Bible, in a natural, unaffected, and
sincere tone; and afterwards delivers a short address in the Kisawahili
language, about the subject read to them, which is listened to with
interest and attention.

There is another point in Livingstone's character about which readers of
his books, and students of his travels, would like to know, and that is
his ability to withstand the dreadful climate of Central Africa, and
the consistent energy with which he follows up his explorations. His
consistent energy is native to him and to his race. He is a very fine
example of the perseverance, doggedness, and tenacity which characterise
the Anglo-Saxon spirit; but his ability to withstand the climate is due
not only to the happy constitution with which he was born, but to the
strictly temperate life he has ever led. A drunkard and a man of vicious
habits could never have withstood the climate of Central Africa.

The second day after my arrival in Ujiji I asked the Doctor if he did
not feel a desire, sometimes, to visit his country, and take a little
rest after his six years' explorations; and the answer he gave me fully
reveals the man. Said he:

"I should like very much to go home and see my children once again, but
I cannot bring my heart to abandon the task I have undertaken, when it
is so nearly completed. It only requires six or seven months more to
trace the true source that I have discovered with Petherick's branch of
the White Nile, or with the Albert N'Yanza of Sir Samuel Baker, which is
the lake called by the natives 'Chowambe.' Why should I go home before
my task is ended, to have to come back again to do what I can very well
do now?"

"And why?" I asked, "did you come so far back without finishing the task
which you say you have got to do?"

"Simply because I was forced. My men would not budge a step forward.
They mutinied, and formed a secret resolution--if I still insisted upon
going on--to raise a disturbance in the country, and after they had
effected it to abandon me; in which case I should have been killed. It
was dangerous to go any further. I had explored six hundred miles of the
watershed, had traced all the principal streams which discharge their
waters into the central line of drainage, but when about starting to
explore the last hundred miles the hearts of my people failed them,
and they set about frustrating me in every possible way. Now, having
returned seven hundred miles to get a new supply of stores, and another
escort, I find myself destitute of even the means to live but for a few
weeks, and sick in mind and body."

Here I may pause to ask any brave man how he would have comported
himself in such a crisis. Many would have been in exceeding hurry to get
home to tell the news of the continued explorations and discoveries,
and to relieve the anxiety of the sorrowing family and friends awaiting
their return. Enough surely had been accomplished towards the solution
of the problem that had exercised the minds of his scientific associates
of the Royal Geograpical Society. It was no negative exploration, it was
hard, earnest labor of years, self-abnegation, enduring patience, and
exalted fortitude, such as ordinary men fail to exhibit.

Suppose Livingstone had hurried to the coast after he had discovered
Lake Bangweolo, to tell the news to the geographical world; then had
returned to discover Moero, and run away again; then went back once more
only to discover Kamolondo, and to race back again. This would not be in
accordance with Livingstone's character. He must not only discover the
Chambezi, Lake Bangweolo, Luapula River, Lake Moero, Lualaba River, and
Lake Kamolondo, but he must still tirelessly urge his steps forward to
put the final completion to the grand lacustrine river system. Had he
followed the example of ordinary explorers, he would have been running
backwards and forwards to tell the news, instead of exploring; and he
might have been able to write a volume upon the discovery of each lake,
and earn much money thereby. They are no few months' explorations that
form the contents of his books. His 'Missionary Travels' embraces a
period of sixteen years; his book on the Zambezi, five years; and if the
great traveller lives to come home, his third book, the grandest of all,
must contain the records of eight or nine years.

It is a principle with Livingstone to do well what he undertakes to do;
and in the consciousness that he is doing it, despite the yearning for
his home which is sometimes overpowering, he finds, to a certain extent,
contentment, if not happiness. To men differently constituted, a long
residence amongst the savages of Africa would be contemplated
with horror, yet Livingstone's mind can find pleasure and food for
philosophic studies. The wonders of primeval nature, the great forests
and sublime mountains, the perennial streams and sources of the great
lakes, the marvels of the earth, the splendors of the tropic sky by day
and by night--all terrestrial and celestial phenomena are manna to a
man of such self-abnegation and devoted philanthropic spirit. He can be
charmed with the primitive simplicity of Ethiop's dusky children, with
whom he has spent so many years of his life; he has a sturdy faith in
their capabilities; sees virtue in them where others see nothing but
savagery; and wherever he has gone among them, he has sought to elevate
a people that were apparently forgotten of God and Christian man.

One night I took out my note-book, and prepared to take down from his
own lips what he had to say about his travels; and unhesitatingly he
related his experiences, of which the following is a summary:

Dr. David Livingstone left the Island of Zanzibar in March, 1866. On
the 7th of the following month he departed from Mikindany Bay for the
interior, with an expedition consisting of twelve Sepoys from Bombay,
nine men from Johanna, of the Comoro Islands, seven liberated slaves,
and two Zambezi men, taking them as an experiment; six camels, three
buffaloes, two mules, and three donkeys. He had thus thirty men with
him, twelve of whom, viz., the Sepoys, were to act as guards for the
Expedition. They were mostly armed with the Enfield rifles presented
to the Doctor by the Bombay Government. The baggage of the expedition
consisted of ten bales of cloth and two bags of beads, which were to
serve as the currency by which they would be enabled to purchase the
necessaries of life in the countries the Doctor intended to visit.
Besides the cumbrous moneys, they carried several boxes of instruments,
such as chronometers, air thermometers, sextant, and artificial horizon,
boxes containing clothes, medicines, and personal necessaries. The
expedition travelled up the left bank of the Rovuma River, a route as
full of difficulties as any that could be chosen. For miles Livingstone
and his party had to cut their way with their axes through the dense and
almost impenetrable jungles which lined the river's banks. The road was
a mere footpath, leading in the most erratic fashion into and through
the dense vegetation, seeking the easiest outlet from it without any
regard to the course it ran. The pagazis were able to proceed easily
enough; but the camels, on account of their enormous height, could not
advance a step without the axes of the party clearing the way. These
tools of foresters were almost always required; but the advance of the
expedition was often retarded by the unwillingness of the Sepoys and
Johanna men to work.

Soon after the departure of the expedition from the coast, the
murmurings and complaints of these men began, and upon every occasion
and at every opportunity they evinced a decided hostility to an advance.
In order to prevent the progress of the Doctor, and in hopes that it
would compel him to return to the coast, these men so cruelly treated
the animals that before long there was not one left alive. But as this
scheme failed, they set about instigating the natives against the white
men, whom they accused most wantonly of strange practices. As this plan
was most likely to succeed, and as it was dangerous to have such men
with him, the Doctor arrived at the conclusion that it was best to
discharge them, and accordingly sent the Sepoys back to the coast; but
not without having first furnished them with the means of subsistence on
their journey to the coast. These men were such a disreputable set that
the natives spoke of them as the Doctor's slaves. One of their worst
sins was the custom of giving their guns and ammunition to carry to the
first woman or boy they met, whom they impressed for that purpose by
such threats or promises as they were totally unable to perform, and
unwarranted in making. An hour's marching was sufficient to fatigue
them, after which they lay down on the road to bewail their hard fate,
and concoct new schemes to frustrate their leader's purposes. Towards
night they generally made their appearance at the camping-ground with
the looks of half-dead men. Such men naturally made but a poor escort;
for, had the party been attacked by a wandering tribe of natives of
any strength, the Doctor could have made no defence, and no other
alternative would have been left to him but to surrender and be ruined.

The Doctor and his little party arrived on the 18th July, 1866, at a
village belonging to a chief of the Wahiyou, situate eight days' march
south of the Rovuma, and overlooking the watershed of the Lake Nyassa.
The territory lying between the Rovuma River and this Wahiyou village
was an uninhabited wilderness, during the transit of which Livingstone
and his expedition suffered considerably from hunger and desertion of
men.

Early in August, 1866, the Doctor came to the country of Mponda, a
chief who dwelt near the Lake Nyassa. On the road thither, two of the
liberated slaves deserted him. Here also, Wekotani, a protege of the
Doctor, insisted upon his discharge, alleging as an excuse--an excuse
which the Doctor subsequently found to be untrue--that he had found his
brother. He also stated that his family lived on the east side of the
Nyassa Lake. He further stated that Mponda's favourite wife was his
sister. Perceiving that Wekotani was unwilling to go with him further,
the Doctor took him to Mponda, who now saw and heard of him for the
first time, and, having furnished the ungrateful boy with enough cloth
and beads to keep him until his "big brother" should call for him, left
him with the chief, after first assuring himself that he would
receive honourable treatment from him. The Doctor also gave Wekotanti
writing-paper--as he could read and write, being accomplishments
acquired at Bombay, where he had been put to school--so that, should he
at any time feel disposed, he might write to his English friends, or to
himself. The Doctor further enjoined him not to join in any of the
slave raids usually made by his countrymen, the men of Nyassa, on
their neighbours. Upon finding that his application for a discharge was
successful, Wekotani endeavoured to induce Chumah, another protege
of the Doctor's, and a companion, or chum, of Wekotani, to leave the
Doctor's service and proceed with him, promising, as a bribe, a wife
and plenty of pombe from his "big brother." Chumah, upon referring the
matter to the Doctor, was advised not to go, as he (the Doctor) strongly
suspected that Wekotani wanted only to make him his slave. Chumah wisely
withdrew from his tempter. From Mponda's, the Doctor proceeded to the
heel of the Nyassa, to the village of a Babisa chief, who required
medicine for a skin disease. With his usual kindness, he stayed at this
chief's village to treat his malady.

While here, a half-caste Arab arrived from the western shore of the
lake, and reported that he had been plundered by a band of Mazitu, at
a place which the Doctor and Musa, chief of the Johanna men, were very
well aware was at least 150 miles north-north-west of where they were
then stopping. Musa, however, for his own reasons--which will appear
presently--eagerly listened to the Arab's tale, and gave full credence
to it. Having well digested its horrible details, he came to the Doctor
to give him the full benefit of what he had heard with such willing
ears. The traveller patiently listened to the narrative, which lost
nothing of its portentous significance through Musa's relation, and then
asked Musa if he believed it. "Yes," answered Musa, readily; "he tell
me true, true. I ask him good, and he tell me true, true." The Doctor,
however, said he did not believe it, for the Mazitu would not have been
satisfied with merely plundering a man, they would have murdered him;
but suggested, in order to allay the fears of his Moslem subordinate,
that they should both proceed to the chief with whom they were staying,
who, being a sensible man, would be able to advise them as to the
probability or improbability of the tale being correct. Together, they
proceeded to the Babisa chief, who, when he had heard the Arab's story,
unhesitatingly denounced the Arab as a liar, and his story without the
least foundation in fact; giving as a reason that, if the Mazitu had
been lately in that vicinity, he should have heard of it soon enough.

But Musa broke out with "No, no, Doctor; no, no, no; I no want to go to
Mazitu. I no want Mazitu to kill me. I want to see my father, my
mother, my child, in Johanna. I want no Mazitu." These are Musa's words
_ipsissima verba_.

To which the Doctor replied, "I don't want the Mazitu to kill me either;
but, as you are afraid of them, I promise to go straight west until we
get far past the beat of the Mazitu."

Musa was not satisfied, but kept moaning and sorrowing, saying, "If we
had two hundred guns with us I would go; but our small party of men they
will attack by night, and kill all."

The Doctor repeated his promise, "But I will not go near them; I will go
west."

As soon as he turned his face westward, Musa and the Johanna men ran
away in a body.

The Doctor says, in commenting upon Musa's conduct, that he felt
strongly tempted to shoot Musa and another ringleader, but was,
nevertheless, glad that he did not soil his hands with their vile blood.
A day or two afterwards, another of his men--Simon Price by name--came
to the Doctor with the same tale about the Mazitu, but, compelled by the
scant number of his people to repress all such tendencies to desertion
and faint-heartedness, the Doctor silenced him at once, and sternly
forbade him to utter the name of the Mazitu any more.

Had the natives not assisted him, he must have despaired of ever being
able to penetrate the wild and unexplored interior which he was now
about to tread. "Fortunately," as the Doctor says with unction, "I was
in a country now, after leaving the shores of Nyassa, which the foot
of the slave-trader has not trod; it was a new and virgin land, and of
course, as I have always found in such cases, the natives were really
good and hospitable, and for very small portions of cloth my baggage
was conveyed from village to village by them." In many other ways
the traveller, in his extremity, was kindly treated by the yet
unsophisticated and innocent natives.

On leaving this hospitable region in the early part of December, 1866,
the Doctor entered a country where the Mazitu had exercised their
customary marauding propensities. The land was swept clean of provisions
and cattle, and the people had emigrated to other countries, beyond the
bounds of those ferocious plunderers. Again the Expedition was besieged
by pinching hunger from which they suffered; they had recourse to the
wild fruits which some parts of the country furnished. At intervals
the condition of the hard-pressed band was made worse by the heartless
desertion of some of its members, who more than once departed with the
Doctor's personal kit, changes of clothes, linen, &c. With more or less
misfortunes constantly dogging his footsteps, he traversed in safety the
countries of the Babisa, Bobemba, Barungu, Ba-ulungu, and Lunda.

In the country of Lunda lives the famous Cazembe, who was first made
known to Europeans by Dr. Lacerda, the Portuguese traveller. Cazembe
is a most intelligent prince; he is a tall, stalwart man, who wears
a peculiar kind of dress, made of crimson print, in the form of
a prodigious kilt. In this state dress, King Cazembe received Dr.
Livingstone, surrounded by his chiefs and body-guards. A chief, who had
been deputed by the King and elders to discover all about the white man,
then stood up before the assembly, and in a loud voice gave the result
of the inquiry he had instituted. He had heard that the white man had
come to look for waters, for rivers, and seas; though he could not
understand what the white man could want with such things, he had no
doubt that the object was good. Then Cazembe asked what the Doctor
proposed doing, and where he thought of going. The Doctor replied that
he had thought of proceeding south, as he had heard of lakes and rivers
being in that direction. Cazembe asked, "What can you want to go there
for? The water is close here. There is plenty of large water in this
neighbourhood." Before breaking up the assembly, Cazembe gave orders to
let the white man go where he would through his country undisturbed and
unmolested. He was the first Englishman he had seen, he said, and he
liked him.

Shortly after his introduction to the King, the Queen entered the large
house, surrounded by a body-guard of Amazons with spears. She was a
fine, tall, handsome young woman, and evidently thought she was about
to make an impression upon the rustic white man, for she had clothed
herself after a most royal fashion, and was armed with a ponderous
spear. But her appearance--so different from what the Doctor had
imagined--caused him to laugh, which entirely spoiled the effect
intended; for the laugh of the Doctor was so contagious, that she
herself was the first to imitate it, and the Amazons, courtier-like,
followed suit. Much disconcerted by this, the Queen ran back, followed
by her obedient damsels--a retreat most undignified and unqueenlike,
compared with her majestic advent into the Doctor's presence. But
Livingstone will have much to say about his reception at this court, and
about this interesting King and Queen; and who can so well relate the
scenes he witnessed, and which belong exclusively to him, as he himself?

Soon after his arrival in the country of Lunda, or Londa, and before he
had entered the district ruled over by Cazembe, he had crossed a river
called the Chambezi, which was quite an important stream. The similarity
of the name with that large and noble river south, which will be for
ever connected with his name, misled Livingstone at that time, and he,
accordingly, did not pay to it the attention it deserved, believing that
the Chambezi was but the head-waters of the Zambezi, and consequently
had no bearing or connection with the sources of the river of Egypt, of
which he was in search. His fault was in relying too implicitly upon
the correctness of Portuguese information. This error it cost him many
months of tedious labour and travel to rectify.

From the beginning of 1867--the time of his arrival at Cazembe's--till
the middle of March, 1869--the time of his arrival at Ujiji--he was
mostly engaged in correcting the errors and misrepresentations of
the Portuguese travellers. The Portuguese, in speaking of the River
Chambezi, invariably spoke of it as "our own Zambezi,"--that is,
the Zambezi which flows through the Portuguese possessions of the
Mozambique. "In going to Cazembe from Nyassa," said they, "you will
cross our own Zambezi." Such positive and reiterated information--given
not only orally, but in their books and maps--was naturally confusing.
When the Doctor perceived that what he saw and what they described were
at variance, out of a sincere wish to be correct, and lest he might
have been mistaken himself, he started to retravel the ground he had
travelled before. Over and over again he traversed the several countries
watered by the several rivers of the complicated water system, like an
uneasy spirit. Over and over again he asked the same questions from
the different peoples he met, until he was obliged to desist, lest they
might say, "The man is mad; he has got water on the brain!"

But his travels and tedious labours in Lunda and the adjacent countries
have established beyond doubt--first, that the Chambezi is a totally
distinct river from the Zambezi of the Portuguese; and, secondly, that
the Chambezi, starting from about latitude 11 degrees south, is no
other than the most southerly feeder of the great Nile; thus giving that
famous river a length of over 2,000 miles of direct latitude; making it,
second to the Mississippi, the longest river in the world. The real and
true name of the Zambezi is Dombazi. When Lacerda and his Portuguese
successors, coming to Cazembe, crossed the Chambezi, and heard its
name, they very naturally set it down as "our own Zambezi," and, without
further inquiry, sketched it as running in that direction.

During his researches in that region, so pregnant in discoveries,
Livingstone came to a lake lying north-east of Cazembe, which the
natives call Liemba, from the country of that name which bordered it on
the east and south. In tracing the lake north, he found it to be none
other than the Tanganika, or the south-eastern extremity of it, which
looks, on the Doctor's map, very much like an outline of Italy. The
latitude of the southern end of this great body of water is about 8
degrees 42 minutes south, which thus gives it a length, from north to
south, of 360 geographical miles. From the southern extremity of the
Tanganika he crossed Marungu, and came in sight of Lake Moero. Tracing
this lake, which is about sixty miles in length, to its southern head,
he found a river, called the Luapula, entering it from that direction.
Following the Luapula south, he found it issue from the large lake
of Bangweolo, which is nearly as large in superficial area as the
Tanganika. In exploring for the waters which discharged themselves into
the lake, he found that by far the most important of these feeders was
the Chambezi; so that he had thus traced the Chambezi from its source to
Lake Bangweolo, and the issue from its northern head, under the name of
Luapula, and found it enter Lake Moero. Again he returned to Cazembe's,
well satisfied that the river running north through three degrees of
latitude could not be the river running south under the name of Zambezi,
though there might be a remarkable resemblance in their names.

At Cazembe's he found an old white-bearded half-caste named Mohammed bin
Sali, who was kept as a kind of prisoner at large by the King because
of certain suspicious circumstances attending his advent and stay in the
country. Through Livingstone's influence Mohammed bin Sali obtained
his release. On the road to Ujiji he had bitter cause to regret having
exerted himself in the half-caste's behalf. He turned out to be a most
ungrateful wretch, who poisoned the minds of the Doctor's few followers,
and ingratiated himself with them by selling the favours of his
concubines to them, by which he reduced them to a kind of bondage under
him. The Doctor was deserted by all but two, even faithful Susi and
Chumah deserted him for the service of Mohammed bin Sali. But they soon
repented, and returned to their allegiance. From the day he had the
vile old man in his company manifold and bitter misfortunes followed the
Doctor up to his arrival at Ujiji in March, 1869.

From the date of his arrival until the end of June, 1869, he remained
at Ujiji, whence he dated those letters which, though the outside
world still doubted his being alive, satisfied the minds of the Royal
Geographical people, and his intimate friends, that he still existed,
and that Musa'a tale was the false though ingenious fabrication of a
cowardly deserter. It was during this time that the thought occurred to
him of sailing around the Lake Tanganika, but the Arabs and natives were
so bent upon fleecing him that, had he undertaken it, the remainder
or his goods would not have enabled him to explore the central line of
drainage, the initial point of which he found far south of Cazembe's in
about latitude 11 degrees, in the river called Chambezi.

In the days when tired Captain Burton was resting in Ujiji, after his
march from the coast near Zanzibar, the land to which Livingstone, on
his departure from Ujiji, bent his steps was unknown to the Arabs save
by vague report. Messrs. Burton and Speke never heard of it, it seems.
Speke, who was the geographer of Burton's Expedition, heard of a place
called Urua, which he placed on his map, according to the general
direction indicated by the Arabs; but the most enterprising of the
Arabs, in their search after ivory, only touched the frontiers of Rua,
as, the natives and Livingstone call it; for Rua is an immense country,
with a length of six degrees of latitude, and as yet an undefined
breadth from east to west.

At the end of June, 1869, Livingstone quitted Ujiji and crossed over
to Uguhha, on the western shore, for his last and greatest series of
explorations; the result of which was the further discovery of a lake
of considerable magnitude connected with Moero by the large river called
the Lualaba, and which was a continuation of the chain of lakes he had
previously discovered.

From the port of Uguhha he set off, in company with a body of traders,
in an almost direct westerly course, for the country of Urua. Fifteen
days' march brought them to Bambarre, the first important ivory depot
in Manyema, or, as the natives pronounce it, Manyuema. For nearly
six months he was detained at Bambarre from ulcers in the feet, which
discharged bloody ichor as soon as he set them on the ground. When
recovered, he set off in a northerly direction, and after several days
came to a broad lacustrine river, called the Lualaba, flowing northward
and westward, and in some places southward, in a most confusing way.
The river was from one to three miles broad. By exceeding pertinacity he
contrived to follow its erratic course, until he saw the Lualaba enter
the narrow, long lake of Kamolondo, in about latitude 6 degrees 30
minutes. Retracing this to the south, he came to the point where he had
seen the Luapula enter Lake Moero.

One feels quite enthusiastic when listening to Livingstone's description
of the beauties of Moero scenery. Pent in on all sides by high
mountains, clothed to the edges with the rich vegetation of the tropics,
the Moero discharges its superfluous waters through a deep rent in the
bosom of the mountains. The impetuous and grand river roars through
the chasm with the thunder of a cataract, but soon after leaving its
confined and deep bed it expands into the calm and broad Lualaba,
stretching over miles of ground. After making great bends west and
south-west, and then curving northward, it enters Kamolondo. By
the natives it is called the Lualaba, but the Doctor, in order to
distinguish it from other rivers of the same name, has given it the name
of "Webb's River," after Mr. Webb, the wealthy proprietor of Newstead
Abbey, whom the Doctor distinguishes as one of his oldest and most
consistent friends. Away to the south-west from Kamolondo is another
large lake, which discharges its waters by the important River Loeki, or
Lomami, into the great Lualaba. To this lake, known as Chebungo by
the natives, Dr. Livingstone has given the name of "Lincoln," to be
hereafter distinguished on maps and in books as Lake Lincoln, in memory
of Abraham Lincoln, our murdered President. This was done from the vivid
impression produced on his mind by hearing a portion of his inauguration
speech read from an English pulpit, which related to the causes that
induced him to issue his Emancipation Proclamation, by which memorable
deed 4,000,000 of slaves were for ever freed. To the memory of the man
whose labours on behalf of the negro race deserves the commendation of
all good men, Livingstone has contributed a monument more durable than
brass or stone.

Entering Webb's River from the south-south-west, a little north of
Kamolondo, is a large river called Lufira, but the streams, that
discharge themselves from the watershed into the Lualaba are so numerous
that the Doctor's map would not contain them, so he has left all out
except the most important. Continuing his way north, tracing the Lualaba
through its manifold and crooked curves as far as latitude 4 degrees
south, he came to where he heard of another lake, to the north, into
which it ran. But here you may come to a dead halt, and read what lies
beyond this spot thus.... This was the furthermost point, whence he was
compelled to return on the weary road to Ujiji, a distance of 700 miles.

In this brief sketch of Dr. Livingstone's wonderful travels it is to be
hoped the most superficial reader, as well as the student of geography,
comprehends this grand system of lakes connected together by Webb's
River. To assist him, let him glance at the map accompanying this book.
He will then have a fair idea of what Dr. Livingstone has been doing
during these long years, and what additions he has made to the study of
African geography. That this river, distinguished under several titles,
flowing from one lake into another in a northerly direction, with all
its great crooked bends and sinuosities, is the Nile--the true Nile--the
Doctor has not the least doubt. For a long time he entertained great
scepticism, because of its deep bends and curves west, and south-west
even; but having traced it from its head waters, the Chambezi, through
7 degrees of latitude--that is, from 11 degrees S. to lat. 4 degrees
N.--he has been compelled to come to the conclusion that it can be no
other river than the Nile. He had thought it was the Congo; but has
discovered the sources of the Congo to be the Kassai and the Kwango, two
rivers which rise on the western side of the Nile watershed, in about
the latitude of Bangweolo; and he was told of another river called the
Lubilash, which rose from the north, and ran west. But the Lualaba, the
Doctor thinks, cannot be the Congo, from its great size and body,
and from its steady and continued flow northward through a broad and
extensive valley, bounded by enormous mountains westerly and easterly.
The altitude of the most northerly point to which the Doctor traced the
wonderful river was a little in excess of 2,000 feet; so that, though
Baker makes out his lake to be 2,700 feet above the sea, yet the Bahr
Ghazal, through which Petherick's branch of the White Nile issues into
the Nile, is but 2,000 feet; in which case there is a possibility that
the Lualaba may be none other than Petherick's branch.

It is well known that trading stations for ivory have been established
for about 500 miles up Petherick's branch. We must remember this fact
when told that Gondokoro, in lat. 4 degrees N., is 2,000 feet above the
sea, and lat. 4 degrees S., where the halt was made, is only a little
over 2,000 feet above the sea. That the two rivers said to be 2,000 feet
above the sea, separated from each other by 8 degrees of latitude, are
one and the same river, may among some men be regarded as a startling
statement. But we must restrain mere expressions of surprise, and take
into consideration that this mighty and broad Lualaba is a lacustrine
river broader than the Mississippi; that at intervals the body of water
forms extensive lakes; then, contracting into a broad river, it again
forms a lake, and so on, to lat. 4 degrees; and even beyond this point
the Doctor hears of a large lake again north.

We must wait also until the altitudes of the two rivers, the Lualaba,
where the Doctor halted, and the southern point on the Bahr Ghazal,
where Petherick has been, are known with perfect accuracy.

Now, for the sake of argument, suppose we give this nameless lake a
length of 6 degrees of latitude, as it may be the one discovered by
Piaggia, the Italian traveller, from which Petherick's branch of the
White Nile issues out through reedy marshes, into the Bahr Ghazal,
thence into the White Nile, south of Gondokoro. By this method we can
suppose the rivers one; for if the lake extends over so many degrees of
latitude, the necessity of explaining the differences of altitude that
must naturally exist between two points of a river 8 degrees of latitude
apart, would be obviated.

Also, Livingstone's instruments for observation and taking altitudes
may have been in error; and this is very likely to have been the case,
subjected as they have been to rough handling during nearly six years
of travel. Despite the apparent difficulty of the altitude, there is
another strong reason for believing Webb's River, or the Lualaba, to be
the Nile. The watershed of this river, 600 miles of which Livingstone
has travelled, is drained from a valley which lies north and south
between lofty eastern and western ranges.

This valley, or line of drainage, while it does not receive the Kassai
and the Kwango, receives rivers flowing from a great distance west, for
instance, the important tributaries Lufira and Lomami, and large
rivers from the east, such as the Lindi and Luamo; and, while the most
intelligent Portuguese travellers and traders state that the Kassai, the
Kwango, and Lubilash are the head waters of the Congo River, no one
has yet started the supposition that the grand river flowing north, and
known by the natives as the Lualaba, is the Congo.

This river may be the Congo, or, perhaps, the Niger. If the Lualaba is
only 2,000 feet above the sea, and the Albert N'Yanza 2,700 feet, the
Lualaba cannot enter that lake. If the Bahr Ghazal does not extend by
an arm for eight degrees above Gondokoro, then the Lualaba cannot be the
Nile. But it would be premature to dogmatise on the subject. Livingstone
will clear up the point himself; and if he finds it to be the Congo,
will be the first to admit his error.

Livingstone admits the Nile sources have not been found, though he has
traced the Lualaba through seven degrees of latitude flowing north; and,
though he has not a particle of doubt of its being the Nile, not yet can
the Nile question be said to be resolved and ended. For two reasons:

1. He has heard of the existence of four fountains, two of which gave
birth to a river flowing north, Webb's River, or the Lualaba, and to a
river flowing south, which is the Zambezi. He has repeatedly heard of
these fountains from the natives. Several times he has been within 100
and 200 miles from them, but something always interposed to prevent his
going to see them. According to those who have seen them, they rise on
either side of a mound or level, which contains no stones. Some have
called it an ant-hill. One of these fountains is said to be so large
that a man, standing on one side, cannot be seen from the other. These
fountains must be discovered, and their position taken. The Doctor does
not suppose them to be south of the feeders of Lake Bangweolo. In his
letter to the 'Herald' he says "These four full-grown gushing fountains,
rising so near each other, and giving origin to four large rivers,
answer in a certain degree to the description given of the unfathomable
fountains of the Nile, by the secretary of Minerva, in the city of Sais,
in Egypt, to the father of all travellers--Herodotus."

For the information of such readers as may not have the original at
hand, I append the following from Cary's translation of Herodotus:
(II.28)

(Jul 2001 The History of Herodotus V1 by Herodotus; Macaulay)


***  With respect to the sources of the Nile, no man of all the
  Egyptians, Libyans, or Grecians, with whom I have conversed,
  ever pretended to know anything, except the registrar* of Minerva's

*the secretary of the treasury of the goddess Neith, or Athena as
Herodotus calls her: ho grammatiste:s to:n hiro:n xre:mato:n te:s
Athe:naie:s>

  treasury at Sais, in Egypt.  He, indeed, seemed to be trifling
  with me when he said he knew perfectly well; yet his account was
  as follows: "That there are two mountains, rising into a sharp
  peak, situated between the city of Syene, in Thebais, and
  Elephantine.  The names of these mountains are the one Crophi,
  the other Mophi; that the sources of the Nile, which are bottomless,
  flow from between these mountains and that half of the water flows
  over Egypt and to the north, the other half over Ethiopia and the
  south.  That the fountains of the Nile are bottomless, he said,
  Psammitichus, king of Egypt, proved by experiment: for, having
  caused a line to be twisted many thousand fathoms in length, he
  let it down, but could not find a bottom."  Such, then, was the
  opinion the registrar gave, if, indeed, he spoke the real truth;
  proving, in my opinion, that there are strong whirlpools and an
  eddy here, so that the water beating against the rocks, a
  sounding-line, when let down, cannot reach the bottom.  I was
  unable to learn anything more from any one else.  But thus much
  I learnt by carrying my researches as far as possible, having gone
  and made my own observations as far as Elephantine, and beyond
  that obtaining information from hearsay.  As one ascends the river,
  above the city of Elephantine, the country is steep; here,
  therefore; it is necessary to attach a rope on both sides of a boat,
  as one does with an ox in a plough, and so proceed; but if
  the rope should happen to break, the boat is carried away by the
  force of the stream.  This kind of country lasts for a four-days'
  passage, and the Nile here winds as much as the Maeander.  There
  are twelve schoeni, which it is necessary to sail through in
  this manner; and after that you will come to a level plain, where
  the Nile flows round an island; its name is Tachompso.  Ethiopians
  inhabit the country immediately above Elephantine, and one half
  of the island; the other half is inhabited by Egyptians.  Near to
  this island lies a vast lake, on the borders of which Ethiopian
  nomades dwell.  After sailing through this lake you will come to
  the channel of the Nile, which flows into it: then you will have
  to land and travel forty days by the side of the river, for sharp
  rocks rise in the Nile, and there are many sunken ones, through
  which it is not possible to navigate a boat.  Having passed this
  country in the forty days, you must go on board another boat, and
  sail for twelve days; and then you will arrive at a large city,
  called Meroe; this city is said to be the capital of all
  Ethiopia.  The inhabitants worship no other gods than Jupiter and
  Bacchus; but these they honour with great magnificence.  They
  have also an oracle of Jupiter; and they make war whenever that
  god bids them by an oracular warning, and against whatever
  country he bids them.  Sailing from this city, you will arrive at
  the country of the Automoli, in a space of time equal to that
  which you took in coming from Elephantine to the capital of the
  Ethiopians.  These Automoli are called by the name of Asmak,
  which, in the language of Greece, signifies "those that stand at
  the left hand of the king."  These, to the number of two hundred and
  forty thousand of the Egyptian war-tribe, revolted to the
  Ethiopians on the following occasion.  In the reign of King
  Psammitichus garrisons were stationed at Elephantine against the
  Ethiopians, and another at the Pelusian Daphnae against the
  Arabians and Syrians, and another at Marea against Libya; and even
  in my time garrisons of the Persians are stationed in the same
  places as they were in the time of Psammitichus, for they
  maintain guards at Elephantine and Daphnae.  Now, these Egyptians,
  after they had been on duty three years, were not relieved;
  therefore, having consulted together and come to an unanimous
  resolution, they all revolted from Psammitichus, and went to
  Ethiopia.  Psammitichus, hearing of this, pursued them; and when
  he overtook them he entreated them by many arguments, and adjured
  them not to forsake the gods of their fathers, and their
  children and wives But one of them is reported to have uncovered
  [        ] and to have said, that wheresoever these were there they

["which it is said that one of them pointed to his privy member and
said that wherever this was, there would they have both children and
wives"--Macaulay tr.; published edition censors]

  should find both children and wives."  These men, when they arrived
  in Ethiopia, offered their services to the king of the Ethiopians,
  who made them the following recompense.  There were certain
  Ethiopians disaffected towards him; these he bade them expel,
  and take possession of their land.  By the settlement of these men
  among the Ethiopians, the Ethiopians became more civilized, and
  learned the manners of the Egyptians.

  Now, for a voyage and land journey of four months, the Nile is
  known, in addition to the part f the stream that is in Egypt; for,
  upon computation, so many months are known to be spent by a
  person who travels from Elephantine to the Automoli.  This river
  flows from the west and the setting of the sun; but beyond this no
  one is able to speak with certainty, for the rest of the country
  is desert by reason of the excessive heat.  But I have heard the
  following account from certain Cyrenaeans, who say that they went
  to the oracle of Ammon, and had a conversation with Etearchus, King
  of the Ammonians, and that, among other subjects, they happened to
  discourse about the Nile--that nobody knew its sources; whereupon
  Etearchus said that certain Nasamonians once came to him--this
  nation is Lybian, and inhabits the Syrtis, and the country for no
  great distance eastward of the Syrtis--and that when these
  Nasamonians arrived, and were asked if they could give any
  further formation touching the deserts of Libya, they answered,
  that there were some daring youths amongst them, sons of powerful
  men; and that they, having reached man's estate, formed many
  other extravagant plans, and, moreover, chose five of their number
  by lot to explore the deserts of Libya, to see if they could make
  any further discovery than those who had penetrated the farthest.
  (For, as respects the parts of Libya along the Northern Sea,
  beginning from Egypt to the promontory of Solois, where is the
  extremity of Libya, Libyans and various nations of Libyans reach
  all along it, except those parts which are occupied by Grecians
  and Phoenicians; but as respects the parts above the sea, and
  those nations which reach down to the sea, in the upper parts
  Libya is infested by wild beasts; and all beyond that is sand,
  dreadfully short of water, and utterly desolate.)  They further
  related, "that when the young men deputed by their companions
  set out, well furnished with water and provisions, they passed
  first through the inhabited country; and having traversed this,
  they came to the region infested by wild beasts; and after this
  they crossed the desert, making their way towards the west; and
  when they had traversed much sandy ground, during a journey of
  many days, they at length saw some trees growing in a plain; and
  that they approached and began to gather the fruit that grew on
  the trees; and while they were gathering, some diminutive men,
  less than men of middle stature, came up, and having seized them
  carried them away; and that the Nasamonians did not at all understand
  their language, nor those who carried them off the language of
  the Nasamonians.  However, they conducted them through vast
  morasses, and when they had passed these, they came to a city in
  which all the inhabitants were of the same size as their conductors,
  and black in colour: and by the city flowed a great river, running
  from the west to the east, and that crocodiles were seen in it."
  Thus far I have set forth the account of Etearchus the Ammonian;
  to which may be added, as the Cyrenaeans assured me, "that he said
  the Nasamonians all returned safe to their own country, and that
  the men whom they came to were all necromancers."  Etearchus also
  conjectured that this river, which flows by their city, is the Nile;
  and reason so evinces: for the Nile flows from Libya, and intersects
  it in the middle; and (as I conjecture, inferring things unknown
  from things known) it sets out from a point corresponding with the
  Ister.  For the Ister, beginning from the Celts, and the city of
  Pyrene, divides Europe in its course; but the Celts are beyond
  the pillars of Hercules, and border on the territories of the
  Cynesians, who lie in the extremity of Europe to the westward;
  and the Ister terminates by flowing through all Europe into the
  Euxine Sea, where a Milesian colony is settled in Istria.  Now
  the Ister, as it flows through a well-peopled country, is generally
  known; but no one is able to speak about the sources of the Nile,
  because Libya, through which it flows, is uninhabited and desolate.
  Respecting this stream, therefore, as far as I was able to reach by
  inquiry, I have already spoken.  It however discharges itself into
  Egypt; and Egypt lies, as near as may be, opposite to the
  mountains of Cilicia; from whence to Sinope, on the Euxine Sea,
  is a five days' journey in a straight line to an active man; and
  Sinope is opposite to the Ister, where it discharges itself into
  the sea.  So I think that the Nile, traversing the whole of Libya,
  may be properly compared with the Ister.  Such, then, is the
  account that I am able to give respecting the Nile.
  ***