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THROUGH THE DARK CONTINENT.
[Illustration:
_After Walery._] _Frontispiece._
H. M. STANLEY.
]
THROUGH THE
DARK CONTINENT
OR
THE SOURCES OF THE NILE
AROUND THE GREAT LAKES OF EQUATORIAL AFRICA
AND DOWN THE LIVINGSTONE RIVER
TO THE ATLANTIC OCEAN
BY
HENRY M. STANLEY
AUTHOR OF “IN DARKEST AFRICA,” “HOW I FOUND LIVINGSTONE,”
“MY KALULU,” ETC.
MAP AND ILLUSTRATIONS
WITH A NEW PREFACE BY THE AUTHOR, WRITTEN FOR THIS EDITION.
VOL. I.
LONDON: GEORGE NEWNES, LIMITED
SOUTHAMPTON STREET, STRAND
1899
_RE-ISSUE
BY ARRANGEMENT WITH MESSRS. SAMPSON LOW,
MARSTON AND COMPANY, LTD._
=Dedication.=
-------
THE HEARTY ENCOURAGEMENT AND LIBERAL MEANS WHICH ENABLED ME
TO PERFORM THE MISSION ENTRUSTED TO ME,
OF EXPLORING THE DARK CONTINENT OF AFRICA AND SOLVING MANY INTERESTING
GEOGRAPHICAL PROBLEMS,
AND TO FITTINGLY REWARD THE FAITHFUL SURVIVORS,
INDUCE ME TO MAKE PUBLIC MY DEEP PERSONAL ACKNOWLEDGMENTS,
BY DEDICATING THIS WORK, WHICH RECORDS ITS RESULTS, TO THE
PROMOTERS OF THE ENTERPRISE,
MR. J. M. LEVY AND Mr. EDWARD L. LAWSON,
_Proprietors of the ‘Daily Telegraph,’_
AND
MR. JAMES GORDON BENNETT,
_Proprietor of the ‘New York Herald,’_
AND IN CONSEQUENCE OF THE GREAT AND CONSTANT INTEREST MANIFESTED
BY HIM IN THE SUCCESS OF THE UNDERTAKING, I MUST
BE PERMITTED TO ADD THE NAME OF
MR. EDWIN ARNOLD, C.S.I., AND F.R.G.S.
WITHOUT THE PATRONAGE, FULL CONFIDENCE, AND CORDIAL SYMPATHY OF
THESE GENTLEMEN I SHOULD HAVE BEEN UNABLE TO ACCOMPLISH
THE TASK NOW HAPPILY COMPLETED.
H. M. STANLEY.
ORIGINAL PREFACE.
Before these volumes pass irrevocably out of the Author’s hands, I take
this, the last, opportunity of addressing my readers. In the first
place, I have to express my most humble thanks to Divine Providence for
the gracious protection vouchsafed to myself and my surviving followers
during our late perilous labours in Africa.
In the second place, I have to convey to many friends my thanks for
their welcome services and graceful congratulations, notably to Messrs.
Motta Viega and J. W. Harrison, the gentlemen of Boma who, by their
timely supplies of food, electrified the Expedition into new life; to
the sympathizing society of Loanda, who did their best to spoil us with
flattering kindness; to the kindly community of the Cape of Good Hope,
who so royally entertained the homeward-bound strangers; to the
directorates of the B. I. S. N. and the P. and O. Companies, and
especially to Mr. W. Mackinnon of the former, and Mr. H. Bayley and
Captain Thomas H. Black of the latter, for their generous assistance
both on my setting out and on my returning; to the British Admiralty,
and, personally, to Captain Purvis, senior officer on the West Coast
Station, for placing at my disposal H.M.S. _Industry_, and to Commodore
Sullivan, for continuing the great favour from the Cape to Zanzibar; to
the officers and sailors of H.M.S. _Industry_, for the great patience
and kindness which they showed to the wearied Africans; and to my
friends at Zanzibar, especially to Mr. A. Sparhawk, for their kindly
welcome and cordial help.
In the next place, to the illustrious individuals and Societies who have
intimated to me their appreciation of the services I have been enabled
to render to Science, I have to convey the very respectful expression of
my sense of the honours thus conferred upon me—to his Majesty King
Humbert of Italy, for the portrait of himself, enriched with the
splendid compliment of his personal approbation of my services,[1] which
with the gold medal received from his royal father, King Victor Emanuel,
will for ever be treasured with pride—to H.R.H. the Prince of Wales, for
the distinguished honour shown me by his personal recognition of my
work—to H.H. the Khedive of Egypt, for the high distinction of the Grand
Commandership of the Order of the Medjidie, with the Star and Collar—to
the Royal Geographical Society of London for its hearty public reception
of me on my return, and for the highly valued diploma of an Honorary
Corresponding Member subsequently received—to the Geographical Societies
and Chambers of Commerce of Paris, Italy, and Marseilles, for the great
honour of the Medals awarded to me[2]—to the Geographical Societies of
Antwerp, Berlin, Bordeaux, Bremen, Hamburg, Lyons, Marseilles,
Montpellier, and Vienna, and to the Society of Arts of London, for the
privilege of Honorary Membership to which I have been admitted—to the
very numerous distinguished gentlemen who have lent the influence of
their authority in the worlds of Science, Letters, and Society to the
public favour so liberally extended to me—to all these do I wish to
convey my keen appreciation of the honours and favours of which I have
been the recipient. And for yet another honour I have to express my
thanks—one which I may be pardoned for regarding as more precious,
perhaps, than even all the rest. The Government of the United States has
crowned my success with its official approval, and the unanimous vote of
thanks passed in both Houses of the Legislature has made me proud for
life of the Expedition and its achievements.
Alas! that to share this pride and these honours there are left to me
none of those gallant young Englishmen who started from this country to
cross the Dark Continent, and who endeared themselves to me by their
fidelity and affection: alas! that to enjoy the exceeding pleasure of
rest among friends, after months of fighting for dear life among
cannibals and cataracts, there are left so few of those brave Africans
to whom, as the willing hands and the loyal hearts of the Expedition, so
much of its success was due.
That the rule of my conduct in Africa has not been understood by all, I
know to my bitter cost; but with my conscience at ease, and the simple
record of my daily actions, which I now publish, to speak for me, this
misunderstanding on the part of a few presents itself to me only as one
more harsh experience of life. And those who read my book will know that
I have indeed had “a sharp apprehension and keen intelligence” of many
such experiences.
With reference to the illustrations, I should mention that I carried a
photographic apparatus with me across the Continent, and so long as my
dry plates held out I never lost an opportunity of obtaining a good
view, and when my plates were used up I found the reflection of the
scenes on the ground glass of my camera an invaluable aid to my
unpractised pencil.
In conclusion, I have to thank Mr. Phil. Robinson, the author of ‘In my
Indian Garden,’ for assisting me in the revision of my work. My
acknowledgments are also due to Lieut. S. Schofield Sugden, R.N., for
the perseverance and enthusiasm with which he recalculated all my
observations, making even the irksome compilations of maps a pleasant
task. In their drawing and engraving work, Mr. E. Weller and Mr. E.
Stanford, and in the intelligent reproduction of my pictures, Mr. J. D.
Cooper, have earned my thanks, and in no less a degree Messrs. William
Clowes and Sons, for the care and despatch with which these volumes have
been prepared for the public.
H. M. S.
LONDON, _Nov. 15, 1879_.
PREFACE TO THE EDITION OF 1899.
---
‘THROUGH THE DARK CONTINENT’ was first published in June, 1878, and now
that, after an interval of twenty years, another fully illustrated
edition is to be issued, it has been thought desirable by the publishers
that I should employ the opportunity of reviewing a few of the amazing
changes that have taken place in the regions described in the book.
Public speakers, I observe, when they have occasion to refer to the
remarkable progress made of late years in Equatorial Africa, vaguely
date it as having begun some twenty-five or thirty years ago. In
reality, however, the first glimmerings of the dawn only appeared in the
latter part of 1875, which was soon after the publication of my appeal
for missionaries to Uganda. Although the appeal was almost immediately
responded to by the Church Missionary Society, and a sum of £24,000 was
collected, the missionaries did not leave England until April, 1876, and
it was the 30th June, 1877, before two of the band landed in Uganda.
These two pioneer missionaries, and a third, who had been left behind at
the south end of Lake Victoria, were, with myself, the sole Europeans in
all Equatorial Africa on that date. I happened to be then about two
hundred miles from the west coast, laboriously working my way down the
cataracts of the Congo, to put the finishing touch to my exploration of
the course of that river, while over two thousand miles eastward of me
my two fellow-countrymen were preparing for the great work of converting
Uganda to Christianity.
But, after all, the arrival of the missionaries, though an important
event, and one that has had large consequences, was but a sign of the
dawn. Scepticism as to any good resulting from the bold missionary
venture was very general in England, and the publications of the C. M.
Society prove that, for some years afterwards, no great hope of success
was entertained, and, as if to add to the public disbelief in the
efficacy of missionary effort among negro pagans, there came, almost
simultaneously with my return from Africa early in the following year,
the sad news that two out of the three missionaries had been massacred.
Thus, at the beginning of that year, 1878, the surviving missionary in
Uganda was the sole white man in all the regions bordering the African
equator.
The publication of this book in the following June excited unusual,
indeed, I may truly say extraordinary, interest throughout Europe. It
was translated into many languages, and the aggregate sales were
prodigious. In this country, in France, Germany, Belgium, and Italy, it
was discussed from every point of view. It led to much controversy,
personal and general, but the British public did not take kindly to the
suggestions for immediate action in Africa contained in it. England lost
the opportunity of selecting unquestioned her field for enterprise, and
so long was she indifferent to the Continent, and the splendid
possibilities that awaited her, that Equatorial Africa was well-nigh
closed to her altogether.
It happened that there was one person on the Continent who manifested
much more than an abstract interest in Africa, and had, indeed,
solicited my services for the development of the Dark Continent—within a
few minutes of my return to Europe—but had generously admitted that the
people in whose interest I had made my explorations should have the
first claim on them. This person was King Leopold II., whose wonderful
character and extraordinary ability were then unknown to the world. No
Englishman living, not even the geographical expert, paid such close
attention to my letters in the _Daily Telegraph_, my book and speeches
on African subjects, as did the King, and no man shared my zeal and
hopes for Africa as did His Majesty. I waited from January to November,
1878, to see if on this side of the Channel any serious notice was
likely to be taken of my suggestions; but finding public feeling
impossible to be aroused here, I then crossed the Channel, and accepted
the post of chief agent to the _Comité des Etudes du Haut Congo_, of
which King Leopold was President.
As an illustration of the general indifference in this country to what
had been written and spoken about Africa during 1878, I quote what took
place between two members of the Royal Geographical Council and myself
on a certain date of June of that year.
These two gentlemen called at my rooms, and, seeing my original map of
the Congo hanging up, one of them, after a perusal of some of the notes
written along the course, turned to me and asked—
“How long do you think it will be before a white man revisits Stanley
Falls?”
“Two or three years, I suppose,” I replied.
“Two or three years!” he exclaimed. “I expected you were going to say
fifty years.”
“Fifty years!” I cried. “Why, I will venture to wager that, before
twenty years are over, there will not be a hundred square mile tract
left to be explored in the entire Continent.”
“Oh, come,” said the other gentleman, “that is too sanguine a view
altogether. I will take your bet—shall we say £10?—and book it.”
We booked it there and then. The twenty years have lately expired, but
though I cannot claim to have won the wager, it must be admitted that my
hasty prediction has closely approached fact.
About the same time, Sir Rutherford Alcock, then President of the Royal
Geographical Society, remarked, in his Annual Address, that I had told
him that, with money enough, Africa could not only be explored, but
civilised and converted into orderly states. It did not seem to me that
there was anything surprising in that, but to Sir Rutherford it appeared
worthy of public notice. It is of value here only as an indication of
the general ignorance that then prevailed in all circles as regards
Africa.
Seven years later, after seeing the establishment of one of the African
states that promised to be civilised some day, I was introduced by a
Canon of Westminster Abbey to a well-known Bishop as one who had “done
good work on the Congo.”
“Oh, indeed!” said his Lordship, smilingly, “how very interesting; but,”
he added, hesitatingly, “I am really not sure that I know where the
Congo is.”
As may be imagined, I was a picture of wide-eyed surprise. For every
newspaper in the country had been for months daily publishing something
or other about the Congo Conference, and I thought that surely one of
the princes of the Church must have caught sight of the name; but such
had been the Bishop’s culpable inattention to great events in Africa,
that the name even had not attracted his notice.
Resuming my proper subject, I became chief agent on the Congo. Every now
and then during the six years that I occupied that position, directing
the advance into the Congo basin, reports of our doings frequently
reached England in one form or another, and still the trend of events
seemed unperceived there, though there was considerable stir in Germany,
France, Portugal, and Belgium.
Neither, apparently, were the actions of the Germans on the borders of
Cape Colony in 1883-84 of a character to excite alarm, suspicion, or
even intelligent alertness in the British mind. Lord Derby was not in
the least disturbed by the curious inquisitive tone of Bismarck’s
despatches relating to South Africa, and Lord Granville failed to
comprehend the drift of Bismarck’s anxiety about the German settlement
at Angra Pequena, or that the presence of a German warship in South
African waters signified anything.
When it was too late, however, to prevent the seizure of a large
territory neighbouring Cape Colony, the British rubbed their eyes, and
found that a European Power, which might make itself unpleasant some day
to our South African colonists, had wilfully planted itself in close
proximity to the Boer states, with which we had already more than once
grave misunderstandings. It was then inferred that a similar move, a
little further inland, by either the Boers or Germans, would perpetually
confine British South Africa to within the narrow limits of Cape Colony,
and a suspicious manœuvre of a German ship of war in Eastern South
Africa confirmed the British Government that longer delay would be
disastrous to British interests, and the Warren Expedition, which
secured to us Bechuanaland, and an open way to the Zambesi, was the
result. But before the Berlin Conference of 1884-5 was held, Germany had
become the owner of important possessions at various places in
Occidental Africa, and was projecting other surprises of a similar kind.
During the sittings of the Conference, which had met to decide the
future of the Congo, the words and acts of the assembled
Plenipotentiaries received due attention from every journal of
importance in the United Kingdom, but they did not appear to impress the
public mind as closely affecting British interests. Yet much was
happening that, had the warning which was sounded occasionally by
experts been taken properly to heart, the significance of the Conference
would have been easily recognised.
On the Continent, however, the diplomatic discussions had a most
stimulating effect. The people of every state now studied their African
maps with a different purpose from the acquisition of mere geographical
knowledge. Societies, miscalled “commercial, geographical, or
scientific,” sprang into existence like mushrooms throughout France,
Germany, Italy, Belgium, and Sweden, and in a short time numerous
expeditions, disguised by innocent titles, were prepared for Africa.
Within two days after the signing of the General Act of the Conference,
the German Emperor proclaimed a protectorate in East Africa over
countries whose names were even unknown until the appearance of this
book. Our Foreign Secretary was in such dread of Prince Bismarck that he
not only acquiesced in this bold act, but obsequiously hastened to
instruct our representative at Zanzibar to use his undeniable influence
in promoting German interests, and lessen his zeal for our own.
To-day, living as we do under a powerful Unionist Government, which has
just triumphed over the Mahdi’s successor, and recovered nearly all that
the Government of that period had lost, these events may appear
incredible, but 1884-85 was a singularly disastrous period for British
prestige. The aged statesman who then presided over England’s affairs
was fast declining in power and ability; but as his influence still
continued supreme, the nation was powerless to avert the blunders and
misfortunes that so repeatedly shocked us. However, not to dwell upon
this painful subject, let me say that when Lord Granville signified to
Prince Bismarck that England would oppose no obstacles to German designs
in Africa, it naturally followed that the Prince would interpret this as
meaning that England would surrender all claims to territory that the
Germans might think desirable, and accordingly the East African
Protectorate expanded in a marvellously brief time from the coast to the
Tanganika, and threatened to absorb the whole of East Africa from
Mozambique to the Gulf of Aden. Though priority of discovery and
exploration may not under all circumstances constitute a full title to
territory, it is certainly aggrieving to find another nation rudely
thrusting itself into the field and forcibly seizing upon it.
Fortunately, however, a Company had been formed in 1885 to take over a
small concession obtained by Mr. H. H. Johnston at Taveta in East
Africa, and as the Germans encroached upon it, Lord Rosebery, who had
become Foreign Secretary, took the opportunity of making a firm protest
against it, which served to arrest the wholesale absorption that had
been meditated, and gave the necessary time for a fuller development of
the British project. A delimitation of territory was determined upon to
define that which was claimed by Great Britain, Germany, and Zanzibar,
and meanwhile the operations of the British Company were suspended to
avoid a clashing of interests, and through Lord Rosebery’s protest the
Germans likewise agreed to prevent their agents from making any new
acquisitions in the debatable zone.
In November, 1886, an understanding was arrived at which recognised the
sovereignty of Zanzibar as existing over Zanzibar and Pemba, and the
smaller islands, within a radius of twelve sea miles of them, as also
over those of Lamu and Mafia, and a strip of the mainland ten sea miles
in depth.
East Africa was delimited into two spheres of influence, divided by the
mouth of the Umbe River, the northern base of Kilimanjaro Mountain, and
thence by a line stretching to the eastern shore of the Victoria Nyanza
at the 1st degree of south latitude.
On the 25th May, 1887, the Sultan of Zanzibar signed a fifty years’
concession of all his rights remaining to him, after the lease he had
given to Germany on the 4th December previous, to the British East
African Association. In April of the following year the Association,
having through its agents concluded treaties with the native tribes to a
distance of two hundred miles inland, became the Imperial British East
African Company with the nominal capital of £2,000,000, for the purpose
of administering the Zanzibar Concession, acquiring territory, and to
undertake trading operations.
Meantime, early in 1887, four months previous to the formation of the
British East African Association, I had started on my fourth expedition
into the Dark Continent, with the object of carrying relief to Emin
Pasha, to whom had been entrusted the government of the Egyptian
provinces near the Equator, by the late General Gordon. Few persons at
the time knew that Emin Pasha was only another name for a Dr. Edouard
Schnitzer, and that he was a German Israelite by birth. The fund for the
relief was contributed to equally by the Egyptian Government and Sir
William Mackinnon’s personal friends.
The story of the march to Emin’s relief and his arrival at the Zanzibar
coast with my expedition, has been related in detail in ‘Darkest
Africa,’ and there is no necessity to give even a summary of it here.
During the journey through the Aruwimi Forest and thence to Zanzibar,
we were able to add considerably to our knowledge of the Equatorial
regions. That of the great forest itself, with its pigmies and
cannibals, was no mean addition, but our march eastward led to the
discovery of the snowy range called Ruwenzori, the interesting Semliki
Valley and its river, which by following upward brought us in view of
the Albert Edward Nyanza, and enabled me to identify it as the lake
I had first seen in January, 1876. The topography of the intra-lake
region became also much better known; and a little later the outline of
the Victoria Nyanza received enlargement by the finding of an unknown
south-western bay of important dimensions.
These discoveries were, however, unimportant compared to the effects
following our return home and the publication of our experiences. The
Brussels Conference of 1890 was preparing to sit, and it was not
difficult to impress the Plenipotentiaries with the immediate
necessities of the Dark Continent, such as railways, prohibition of
importing fire-arms, the suppression of slave-raiding, etc., etc. On the
Congo State authorities our revelations had a still more marked effect.
Preparations were then commenced to deal with the slave-raiders of the
Congo, and the despatch of Vankherkhovin’s Expedition to the Upper
Welle, that of Captain Stairs to Katanga, and for the definite
construction of the railway to Stanley Pool. The spirit of annexation
was once more roused, and there was what might be called a race for the
possession of the undelimited region west of Lake Victoria. The British
East African Company’s troops were pushed into Uganda, and the
expeditions under Mr. Jackson, Captain Lugard, Major Eric Smith, and Mr.
Piggott, performed excellent service in their various explorations.
One of the most important effects of this renewed _furore_ was the
conclusion in July of a Treaty between Great Britain and Germany, which
nullified the efforts of Emin Pasha and of Dr. Peters to seize upon
Uganda and the lake regions west of it. The German Government agreed to
surrender all the territory it occupied or claimed north of the British
sphere, and the protectorate of Witu and the coast up to Kismayu was
transferred to England. This Treaty not only extended the British
possessions to the Abyssinian frontier, thus excluding any European
competitor for influence on the Upper Nile, but established a British
Protectorate over the Sultanate of Zanzibar. In return for the claims
surrendered by Germany, England ceded Heligoland, and for the sum of
£200,000 Germany received the sovereignty and revenue of the African
coast between the Rovuma and the Umbe Rivers.
From the following list of African explorers who have crossed Africa
since this book was issued, it will be recognised at a glance how rapid
has been the increase of geographical knowledge:—
1. Serpa Pinto From Benguella to Durban 1877-1879.
2. Herman von Wissman ” Mossamedes to Quilimane 1881-1882.
3. Arnot the Missionary ” Durban to Benguella 1881-1884.
4. Capello and Ivens ” Mossamedes to Quilimane 1884-1885.
5. Gleerup ” Banana Pt. to Bagamoyo 1883-1886.
6. Dr. Lenz ” Banana Pt. to Quilimane 1885-1887.
7. Herman von Wissman ” Banana Pt. to Quilimane 1886-1887.
(2nd journey)
8. Mons. Trivier ” Loango to Quilimane 1888-1889.
9. Stanley’s second journey ” Banana Pt. to Bagamoyo 1887-1889.
10. Dr. Johnston ” Benguella to Zambezi Mouth 1891-1892.
11. Count von Gotzen ” Pangani to Banana Pt. 1893-1894.
12. M. Moray ” Bagamoyo to Banana Pt. 1892-1895.
13. E. I. Glave ” Zambezi Mouth to Lower 1893-1895.
Congo
14. Mons. Miot ” Zambezi Mouth to Lower 1893-1896.
Congo
15. Mons. Versepuy ” Bagamoyo to Kabinda 1895-1896.
16. M. Descamps et Chargois ” Zambezi Mouth to Kabinda 1893-1896.
17. M. Foa ” Zambezi Mouth to Banana 1896-1898.
18. Mr. Lloyd ” Mombasa to Banana 1897-1898.
While previous to the book, since the beginning of the century, there
had only been three trans-African explorations:—
1. Livingstone From St. Paul da Loanda to 1854-1856.
Quilimane
2. Lieut. Cameron, R.N. ” Bagamoyo to Benguella 1873-1875.
3. Stanley’s first journey ” Bagamoyo to Mouth of the 1874-1877.
Congo
With regard to the numerous other expeditions which took place since
1878, there is no space for mention, but Joseph Thomson’s travels, _viâ_
Nyassa, to the Tanganika, and his brilliant journey through Masai Land;
Count Teleki and Von Hohnel’s travels in Eastern Africa, which resulted
in the discovery of Lakes Rudolf and Stephanie; Captain Bottego’s
journey through Somali Land, and Dr. Donaldson Smith’s exploration of
Somali and Galla Lands were of the first importance. It has, however,
required the services of some hundreds of travellers since 1878 to fill
up the sum of our present knowledge of the Continent.
In 1878 there was not one European-built boat in all Equatorial Africa.
By 1881 there were five, but by December 31st, 1898, there were
seventy-two steamers and one hundred and sixty-four steel boats or
barges, while there is a very large addition to the African flotillas
either on its way, or in process of construction. It may be imagined
how much these vessels have expedited exploration when I say that out
of the seventeen trans-African explorers no less than thirteen of them
were transported with their followers and effects some hundreds of
miles on their way.
Even as late as 1890 the construction of railways in Equatorial Africa
had not been begun, though years of zealous efforts had been made by
myself and others to induce capitalists to undertake them, knowing as we
did that they were the best instruments that civilisation could employ
for the moral, material, and social elevation of the dark peoples. But
just as it took years upon years of publications and speeches to
dissipate the unreasoning terror of Africa in the European mind, it
required years of preaching and encouraging to induce railway
constructors to try Africa as the theatre of their operations. Soon
after the conclusion of the Emin Expedition the Congo Railway was
commenced, and to-day it is fully employed in traffic, and the 500-franc
shares are worth 1700 francs per share, which may be taken as a proof
that the shareholders’ faith has been munificently rewarded. By the
latest news from East Africa we learn that two hundred and forty miles
of the Mombasa and Nyanza Railway have been laid, and it is predicted
that by May next the locomotive will reach the half-way point to Lake
Victoria. In German East Africa thirty miles of railway have been in
operation for some time, but there are serious railway projects under
consideration, and, it may be, an attempt will shortly be made at
construction on an important scale. Meantime, however, the coloured
troops are being employed in making a road suitable for wheeled traffic
between the port of Dar-es-Salaam and Ujiji, _viâ_ Kilossa and Tabora,
and thus far mules have been used with great success.
But though there are not yet five hundred miles of railway open for
traffic in Equatorial Africa, considerable extensions are under
construction, or being meditated. The British East Africa Railway will,
of course, be continued as far as Lake Victoria, as Parliament has
provided the necessary money. The Congo State having successfully
completed the railway connecting the lower with the upper river, is
carrying out surveys for other railways on the Upper Congo. The Zambezi
will also in a short time be connected by rail with Lake Nyassa, and we
learn that the Bulawayo Railway is to be extended to the Tanganika Lake.
My predictions in regard to Africa have so singularly approached
realisation thus far that I am tempted on a safer prophecy, which is,
that by 1918, there will be five thousand miles of iron roads where
there are now not five hundred.
When my letters, calling attention to the spiritual and material needs
of Africa, used to appear in the columns of the _Daily Telegraph_ in
1874-77, there was neither mission, school, church, nor any legitimate
trade started in the regions near the African Equator. But since 1877
wonderful changes in this respect have taken place. The statistics we
have received from the Uganda Protectorate alone tell a remarkable tale
of progress. According to these there have been 372 churches and
missions established, at which there are 97,575 Christian converts.
About 100 Europeans are living in the Protectorate, and the first
official report (for 1897) announced that trade to the value of £30,000
had been begun. It will be remembered, perhaps, that it was for long a
debatable question whether we should retain Uganda or abandon it.
The country of which the first few chapters of this book treat is now
mainly German East Africa. What a change has come over it! No one could
have foreseen or dreamed at the time of my march through it that Germany
could ever have become the controller of its destiny. I dreamed visions
of the future often in the wilds, such as that described in Chapter X.,
but I saw no Teuton in my dreams. However, it may be all for the best
that Germany has annexed it, and England owes too much to Germany for
waking her out of her somnolence to begrudge what Bismarck obtained so
boldly. The white population of this colony at the end of last year
numbered 922, of whom 678 are Germans, and the trade amounted in value
to £600,000. It will, no doubt, be a long time before the Arab coast
towns undergo any external change, but within their character and scenes
are altogether altered. German militarism, which as we know is of the
strictest kind, bears no resemblance to Arab supineness and neglect or
to Arab customs. The small boys have taken kindly to the dominant
spirit, and practise the forms in vogue among the military. There are
custom-houses at every port, and permits for travel and sport inland can
only be obtained through the goodwill of the Governor. The drastic
measures of Von Wissman have long ago suppressed the slave-trade, and
the slave-market is now only a memory.
The coast towns are connected by telegraph with each other, and there
is cable communication, _viâ_ Zanzibar, with Europe. Ujiji, the port
on Lake Tanganika where I met Livingstone in 1871, possesses now quite
a civilised appearance. Its Government buildings are of stone and
two-storied, and a long wide street, shaded by mangoes and other fruit
trees, runs through the centre of the town. German capital, to the
value of £697,000, has been invested in tobacco, coffee, cocoa, tea,
cardamom, and vanilla plantations; and I am glad to learn that the Game
Laws are strict and effective.
The change in Equatorial Africa is nowhere more conspicuous than in that
part described in Chapters XXI.-XXXIV. It may be imagined from the fact
that a Brussels statistician has collected the titles of 3800 printed
works which have been published since 1878 and refer to this part, and
in his chronological table he records forty-eight separate explorations
of the region.
The progress of trade in the Congo basin can be best represented by the
following brief table of imports and exports:—
The average value of the annual exports during each of the five
preceding years (1888-92) amounted to only £207,921.
From the inception of the Congo State in 1879 to the year 1890 the King
of the Belgians personally defrayed all the expenditure; but on July
3rd, 1890, the Belgian Government came to His Majesty’s assistance with
a lump sum of £200,000, and an annual subsidy, to last ten years, of
£80,000 per annum. This amount, with the King’s personal subsidy, was
for some years later the main support of the State; but in 1898 the
revenue from all sources is estimated to amount to £590,608, while the
expenditure is £99,477 in excess.
This excess of expenditure some unkindly critics in this country
attribute to extravagance, ambition, and what not; but the King
justifies his policy by comparing himself to one who had come to a great
but wholly undeveloped estate, which was bound to remain unproductive
unless a liberal expenditure was incurred for such improvements as would
expose its resources and make all parts of it accessible. Now what the
Congo State was in 1879 can best be seen by Chapters XXIV.-XXIX. To the
ordinary white man it was what may well be termed impenetrable, except
at constant peril of his life. It was ravaged by cannibals, fierce
warlike tribes, and slave-raiders, and destructive influences of every
kind tended to maintain its humanity in an eternal struggle for life and
liberty. There were no roads, or means by which the country could be
explored. Every tribe barred the ingress of the traveller; and its
frontiers on all sides lay exposed to any white stranger who took the
trouble to plant a flag; and finally it was made incumbent on every
Power owning African possessions to make its occupation effective. Such
primary necessities of the State involved large and endless expenses,
and few men other than King Leopold would have so long sustained the
great undertaking from his private purse. From 1879 to 1890 His Majesty
spent about £900,000, and since then the total expenditure of the State
has been nearly £3,000,000. To meet this His Majesty’s subsidies,
amounting to £360,000, the aid from Belgium, £200,000, the Belgian
annual subsidies, £720,000, customs duties and taxes, £1,900,000, make a
total revenue of £3,180,000, and prove a deficit of £720,000.
As an offset against the deficit, the State possesses nineteen steamers
and forty steel barges of the value of £100,000; Government
establishments, which we may estimate at £500,000; arms, ammunition,
goods, coal, and lumber, at £100,000; investments in the railway,
telegraph, and commercial societies, and plantations, to the value of
about £400,000—the whole of which aggregate £1,100,000. To these, which
may be rightly taken as assets of the State, should be added the
increment of the land which at present in some places sells at £80 the
hectare, for factories and commercial purposes at £4 the hectare, and
for agriculture at 8s. the hectare. If the State were offered for sale
the value of the land made accessible to market by railway and steam
communication would have to be considered. Beyond what has been
specified as the State assets, consideration must be given to the now
assured growth of the revenue. To-day, exclusive of the subsidies, it
amounts to £470,602. When the State reaps the results of its generous
aid to the planters of coffee, tea, cocoa, etc., to the railway, now
completed, and to the commercial companies, who are now not restricted
in their transport of goods and produce, there must necessarily be a
material increase each year in the revenue. From all of which summary it
does not appear to me that the position of the State is financially
unsound; indeed, I am inclined to think it to be otherwise.
His Majesty’s policy has been to start the State on lines that must end
in prosperity, without regard to personal labour or personal cost, and
by his munificent pecuniary advances to the railway, commercial
societies, planters, timber merchants, and agriculturists, the result
has been that capital to the amount of several millions sterling has
gravitated to the Congo. Personally, he may never recover a penny of the
£900,000 he devoted to the creation of the State, but to that he is
indifferent. Whatever surplus the revenue may furnish will certainly be
devoted to assist new enterprises, new railways, increase of shipping,
telegraph lines—to anything, in short, that promises expansion of the
resources of the State, and enhances the value of the legacy he proposes
to bequeath to the people of whom he is King and loyal servant.
An honourable friend of mine has lately delivered a lecture before the
Statistical Society with a view to prove that the Congo State was
financially a failure. It would be useless, in this place, to do more
than present the balance sheet of four African territories, and ask him
and those who agree with him to give it a fair consideration.
════════════════════════╤═══════════╤═══════════╤════════════╤══════════
Name of State │ Years. │ Receipts.│Expenditure.│ Deficits.
or Territory. │ │ │ │
────────────────────────┼───────────┼───────────┼────────────┼──────────
│ │ £ │ £ │ £
{│ 1891 │ 182,197│ 182,197│ —
{│ 1892 │ 192,035│ 189,279│ —
{│ 1893 │ 266,580│ 217,627│ —
{│ 1894 │ 310,181│ 295,342│ —
{│ 1895 │ 324,650│ 294,837│ —
Congo State {│ 1896 │ 414,396│ 329,452│ —
{│ 1897 │ 374,770│ 405,675│ 30,905
{│ 1898 │ 590,602│ 690,079│ 99,477
_The first year_ } {│(estimated)│} 798,660│ 786,918│ —
_of the railway._ } {│ 1899 │} │ │
│───────────│───────────│────────────│───────────
British East Africa │ 1897 │ 32,670│ 134,346│ 101,676
German East Africa │ 1897 │ 218,495│ 298,260│ 79,765
German Cameroons │ 1897 │ 58,328│ 69,170│ 10,842
════════════════════════╧═══════════╧═══════════╧════════════╧══════════
The Uganda Protectorate, having been established but lately, would
naturally present a still more unsatisfactory balance sheet than any of
the four territories above mentioned, but it is not derogatory to either
British or German Africa that their deficits are so large, for the
Congo, during the state of undevelopment, had absolutely no receipts at
all, except King Leopold’s subsidy, to meet the expenditure. There is no
necessity to labour this matter, but I think it is sufficiently proved
that my honourable friend has been mistaken in his views about the
financial condition of the Congo State.
As a fitting conclusion to this preface, I here append a table which
will exhibit at a glance the advance of Equatorial Africa during the
last twenty years.
────────────────────┬────────┬──────┬─────────┬─────────┬─────────┬──────────
│ │ │ │ │ │
State or Territory. │ White │Miles │ No. of │ No. of │Value of │Revenues,
│ Popul- │ of │Missions,│Christian│ Imports │including
│ ation. │Rail- │ Schools │Converts.│ and │Subsidies.
│ │ way. │ or │ │Exports. │
│ │ │Churches.│ │ │
────────────────────┼────────┼──────┼─────────┼─────────┼─────────┼──────────
Congo State │ 1,678│ 250│ 67│ 10,000│1,585,542│ 590,602
Uganda Protectorate │ 100│ ..│ 372│ 97,575│ 28,400│ 142,000
British E. Africa │ 101│ 237│ 6│ 600│ 218,800│ 102,670
British Cent. Africa│ 300│ ..│ 55│ 5,000│ 116,264│ 30,000
French Congo │ 300│ ..│ 25│ 2,500│ 452,282│ 123,622
German E. Africa │ 922│ 30│ 15│ 2,500│ 638,000│ 218,495
German Cameroons │ 253│ ..│ 5│ 900│ 465,000│ 58,328
────────────────────┼────────┼──────┼─────────┼─────────┼─────────┼──────────
Totals │ 3,651│ 517│ 545│ 119,075│3,504,288│ 1,265,717
────────────────────┴────────┴──────┴─────────┴─────────┴─────────┴──────────
Remarkable as has been the progress of the above territories hitherto,
my most sincere wish is that there may be still greater acceleration of
it during the next twenty years.
HENRY M. STANLEY.
_January 1st, 1899._
CONTENTS.
---
EXPLANATION.
PAGE
PART I.—My new mission—_The Daily Telegraph_—“_Yes; Bennett_”—
The _Lady Alice_—My European staff—Disappointed applicants and
thoughtful friends—My departure for Africa. PART II.—The
Sources of the Nile—Herodotus on the Nile—Burton on the Nile
basin—Lake Tanganika—Lake Victoria—Speke, Grant, and Cameron—
The Livingstone River—The work before me 1
CHAPTER I.
Arrival at Zanzibar Island—Life at Zanzibar—The town of
Zanzibar, its roadstead and buildings—The One Cocoa-nut Tree
and the red cliffs—Selection and purchase of goods for the
journey—Residence of Prince Barghash—Busy mornings—Pleasant
rides and quiet evenings 22
CHAPTER II.
Seyyid Barghash—His prohibition of slavery, character, and
reforms—Treaty with British Government by Sir Bartle Frere—
Tramways the need of Africa—Arabs in the interior—Arabs in
Zanzibar—Mtuma or Mgwana?—The Wangwana, their vices and
virtues—A Mgwana’s highest ambition—The Wanyamwezi “the coming
race” 31
CHAPTER III.
Organization of the Expedition—The _shauri_—“Poli-poli”—Msenna’s
successful imposture—Black sheep in the flock—The _Lady Alice_
remodelled—Sewing a British flag—Tarya Topan, the millionaire—
Signing the covenants—“On the word of a white man”—Saying
good-bye—Loading the dhows—Vale!—Towards the Dark Continent 43
CHAPTER IV.
Bagamoyo—Taming the dark brother—Bagamoyo in a ferment—An
exciting scene—The disturbance quelled—The Universities
Mission, its origin, history, decline and present condition—
The Rev. Edward Steere—Notre Dame de Bagamoyo—Westward ho!—In
marching order—_Sub Jove fervido_—Crossing the Kingani—The
stolen women 55
CHAPTER V.
On the march—Congorido to Rubuti—The hunting-grounds of
Kitangeh—Shooting zebra—“Jack’s” first prize—Interviewed by
lions—Geology of Mpwapwa—Dudoma—“The flood-gates of heaven”
opened—Dismal reflections—The Salina—A conspiracy discovered—
Desertions—The path lost—Starvation and deaths—Trouble
imminent—Grain huts plundered—Situation deplorable—Sickness in
the camp—Edward Pocock taken ill—His death and funeral 70
CHAPTER VI.
From Chiwyu to Vinyata—Kaif Halleck murdered—The magic doctor—
Giving away the heart—Deeds of blood—“The white men are only
women”—A three days’ fight—Punishment of the Wanyaturu—The
ubiquitous Mirambo—The plain of the Luwamberri—In a land of
plenty—Through the open country—“I have seen the lake. Sir,
and it is grand!”—Welcomed at Kagehyi 93
CHAPTER VII.
A burzah held—Paying off recruits—Kagehyi becomes a great
trading centre—A Central African “toper”—Prince Kaduma—Hopes
of assistance from him relinquished—The boat ready for sea—No
volunteers—Selecting my crew—The start for the
circumnavigation of Lake Victoria 116
CHAPTER VIII.
Afloat on the lake—We catch a guide—Saramba’s terror—The
Shimeeyu—Pyramid Point—The island of Ukerewé—In the haunts of
crocodiles—Shizu Island—The hippopotami—Ururi—The headlands of
Goshi—Bridge Islands—Volcanoes—U-go-weh—The inebriates of
Ugamba—Treachery at Maheta—Primitive man—The art of pleasing—A
night at Uvuma—Mobbed by Wavuma—Barmecide fare—Message from
Mtesa—“In the Kabaka’s name”—Camp on Soweh Island 123
CHAPTER IX.
An extraordinary monarch—I am examined—African “chaff”—Mtesa,
Emperor of Uganda—Description of Mtesa—A naval review—Arrival
at the Imperial capital—Mtesa’s palace—Fascination of the
country—I meet a white man—Col. Linant de Bellefonds—The
process of conversion—A grand mission field—A pleasant day
with Col. de Bellefonds—Starting for my camp 147
CHAPTER X.
Parting with Colonel Linant—Magassa’s vanity and disloyalty—The
sailors’ island—Jumba’s Cove—Uganda—Dumo—The Alexandra Nile—
Lupassi Point—In danger at Mkongo—Alone with Nature—Insect
life—Dreams of a happier future—A dark secret—Murabo and the
fish—Alice Island—A night never to be forgotten—The treachery
of Bumbireh—Saved!—Refuge Island—Wiru—“Go and die in the
Nyanza!”—Back in camp—Sad news 166
CHAPTER XI.
Barker’s illness and death—Other deaths—Traitors in the camp—
Rest!—Sickness—Rwoma blocks our passage by land—Magassa fails
us by water—A serious dilemma—Lukongeh comes to the rescue—
History of Ukerewé—Educated amphibians—Leaving Kagehyi with
half the Expedition—The foundering canoes—All saved—Ito
conciliates us—Arrival at Refuge Island with half the
Expedition—I return for the rest—A murderous outbreak in camp—
Final departure from Kagehyi—All encamped on Refuge Island—We
ally ourselves with Komeh—A dance of kings—Mahyiga Island (in
the Bumbireh group)—Interviewed by Iroba canoes—Our friendship
scorned—The king of Bumbireh a hostage—The massacre of the
Kytawa chief and his crew—The punishment of the murderers—Its
salutary effect upon their neighbours—We arrive in Uganda 190
CHAPTER XII.
We find Mtesa at war—“Jack’s Mount”—Meeting with Mtesa—The
Waganda army in camp and on the march—The imperial harem—In
sight of the enemy—The Waganda fleet—Preliminary skirmishing—
The causeway—The massacre of Mtesa’s peace party—“What do you
know of angels?”—Mtesa’s education proceeds in the intervals
of war—Translating the Bible—Jesus or Mohammed?—Mtesa’s
decision—The royal proselyte 233
CHAPTER XIII.
The war-drum beaten—The wizards play their part—In full
war-paint—Bullets against spears—The Wavuma baulked—Mtesa’s
fury—Victory or the stake!—Hard fighting—The captive chief:
a struggle between the pagan and the Christian—A floating
mystery—“Return, O spirit! the war is ended!”—The camp on
fire: a race for life 256
CHAPTER XIV.
The legend of the Blameless Priest—The heroes of Uganda: Chwa;
Kimera, the giant; Nakivingi; Kibaga, the flying warrior;
Ma’anda; Wakinguru, the champion; Kamanya, the conqueror of
the Wakedi; Suna, the cruel; his massacre of the Wasoga;
Namujurilwa, the Achilles of Uganda; Setuba and his lions;
Kasindula the hero, peasant, and premier—Mtesa the mild-eyed 270
CHAPTER XV.
Life and manners in Uganda—The Peasant—The Chief—The Emperor—The
Land 299
CHAPTER XVI.
TO MUTA NZIGÉ AND BACK TO UGANDA.
The ladies of Mtesa’s family—Sambuzi ordered to take me to Muta
Nzigé—My last evening with Mtesa—_En route_ for Muta Nzigé—
Sambuzi suffers from the “big head”—We come to an
understanding—The white people of Gambaragara—War music—Through
a deserted country—Sinister auguries—A cowards’ council of
war—Panic in the camp—Sambuzi announces his intention of
deserting me—The flight when none pursued—The “Spoiler” eaten
up—Mtesa tries to persuade me to return—At Kafurro 326
CHAPTER XVII.
Kafurro and its magnates—Lake Windermere—Rumanika, the gentle
king of Karagwé—His country—The Ingezi—Among the mosquitoes—
Ihema Island—The triple cones of Ufumbiro—Double-horned
rhinoceros—The hot springs of Mtagata—The Geographical Society
of Karagwé—The philosophy of noses—Rumanika’s thesauron—Some
new facts about the rhinoceros and elephant—Uhimba—Paganus,
var. esuriens—Retrospect 356
CHAPTER XVIII.
The twin rivers—Mankorongo baulked of his loot—Poor Bull!
True to the death—Msenna breaks out again—The Terror of
Africa appears on the scene—Mars at peace—“Dig potatoes,
potatoes, potatoes”—Mirambo, the bandit chief, and I make
blood-brotherhood—Little kings with “big heads”—Practical
conversion of the chief of Ubagwé—The Watuta, the Ishmaelites
of Africa—Their history—African nomenclature—From Msené across
the Malagarazi to Ujiji—Sad memories 379
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
---
FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS.
NO. PAGE
1. H. M. STANLEY. (_After Walery_) _Frontispiece_
2. VIEW FROM THE ROOF OF MR. AUGUSTUS _To face page_ 32
SPARHAWK’S HOUSE. (_From a photograph_)
3. BURYING OUR DEAD IN HOSTILE TURU: VIEW OF ” 92
OUR CAMP
4. RECEPTION BY KING MTESA’S BODY-GUARD AT ” 148
USAVARA
5. MTESA, THE EMPEROR OF UGANDA. (_From a ” 152
photograph_)
6. RECEPTION AT BUMBIREH ISLAND, VICTORIA ” 174
NYANZA
7. THE STRANGE GRANITE ROCKS OF WEZI ISLAND, ” 194
MIDWAY BETWEEN USUKUMA AND UKEREWÉ. (_From
a photograph_)
8. VIEW OF THE BAY LEADING TO RUGEDZI CHANNEL ” 202
FROM KIGOMA, NEAR KISORYA, SOUTH SIDE OF
UKEREWÉ, COAST OF SPEKE GULF. (_From a
photograph_)
9. VIEW OF RIPON FALLS FROM THE UGANDA SIDE. ” 234
(_From a photograph_)
10. THE OUTFALL OF THE VICTORIA NYANZA; RIPON ” 236
FALLS, WHICH GIVE BIRTH TO THE VICTORIA
NILE. CAMP OF REAR GUARD ON HILL. (_From a
photograph_)
11. THE VICTORIA NILE, NORTH OF RIPON FALLS, ” 240
RUSHING TOWARDS UNYORO, FROM THE USOGA
SIDE OF THE FALLS. (_From a photograph_)
12. ONE OF THE GREAT NAVAL BATTLES BETWEEN THE ” 260
WAGANDA AND THE WAVUMA, IN THE CHANNEL
BETWEEN INGIRA ISLAND AND CAPE NAKARANGA
13. THE NAPOLEON CHANNEL, LAKE VICTORIA, FROM ” 268
THE HEIGHTS ABOVE THE RIPON FALLS.
FLOTILLA OF THE EMPEROR OF UGANDA CROSSING
FROM USOGA TO UGANDA. (_From a photograph
by the Author_)
14. RUBAGA, THE NEW CAPITAL OF THE EMPEROR MTESA ” 308
15. MTESA’S AMAZONS. (_From a photograph by the ” 314
Author_)
16. MARCHING THROUGH UNYORO: MOUNT GORDON-BENNETT ” 336
IN THE DISTANCE
---------------------
SMALLER ILLUSTRATIONS.
17. THE ‘LADY ALICE’ IN SECTIONS 4
18. VIEW OF A PORTION OF THE SEA-FRONT OF ZANZIBAR FROM THE 22
WATER BATTERY TO SHANGANI POINT. (_From a photograph_)
19. RED CLIFFS BEHIND UNIVERSITIES MISSION 28
20. A HOUSE AT ZANZIBAR 31
21. SEYYID BARGHASH 32
22. COXSWAIN ULEDI, AND MANWA SERA, CHIEF CAPTAIN. (_From a 39
photograph_)
23. NEW CHURCH ON SITE OF OLD SLAVE MARKET, ZANZIBAR 42
24. TARYA TOPAN 50
25. “TOWARDS THE DARK CONTINENT” 54
26. UNIVERSITIES MISSION AT KANGANI, ZANZIBAR. (_From a 61
photograph_)
27. WIFE OF MANWA SERA. (_From a photograph_) 65
28. THE EXPEDITION AT ROSAKO. (_From a photograph_) 70
29. VIEW FROM THE VILLAGE OF MAMBOYA 73
30. OUR CAMP AT MPWAPWA. (_From a photograph_) 76
31. “IN MEMORIAM.” EDWARD POCOCK, DIED JANUARY 17, 1875 92
32. MNYAMWEZI PAGAZI 111
33. VIEW OF KAGEHYI FROM THE EDGE OF THE LAKE. (_From a 113
photograph_)
34. FRANK POCOCK. (_From a photograph_) 114
35. BRIDGE ISLAND 131
36. CAIRN ERECTED TO THE MEMORY OF FREDERICK BARKER: MAJITA 189
AND URURI MOUNTAINS IN THE DISTANCE, ACROSS SPEKE GULF.
(_From a photograph_)
37. AT THE LANDING-PLACE OF MSOSSI; VIEW OF KITARI HILL TO THE 197
LEFT; MAJITA MOUNTAIN TO THE RIGHT. (_From a
photograph_)
38. NATIVES, UTENSILS, &C. OF UKEREWÉ 199
39. SKETCH MAP: CAPE NAKARANGA 244
40. THE FLOATING FORTLET MOVING TOWARDS INGIRA ISLAND 265
41. FISH FOUND IN LAKE VICTORIA 269
42. HUTS OF EAST CENTRAL AFRICA 303
43. AUDIENCE HALL OF THE PALACE 309
44. MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS 323
45. NGOGO FISH 325
46. IMPLEMENTS AND WEAPONS OF CENTRAL AFRICA 327
47. MOUNT EDWIN ARNOLD 339
48. HOUSE AND WOODEN UTENSILS OF UZIMBA AND ANKORI 343
49. CANOES AND PADDLES OF AFRICA 354
50. RUMANIKA’S TREASURE-HOUSE 360
51. A NATIVE OF UHHA 363
52. VIEW OF UFUMBIRO MOUNTAINS FROM MOUNT NEAR MTAGATA HOT 365
SPRINGS
53. GROUND PLAN OF KING’S HOUSE 372
54. TREASURE-HOUSE, ARMS, AND TREASURES OF RUMANIKA 373
55. “BULL.” (_From a photograph_) 381
56. SEROMBO HUTS 383
57. A “RUGA-RUGA,” ONE OF MIRAMBO’S PATRIOTS 385
58. ONE OF THE WATUTA 393
---------------------
MAPS.
EQUATORIAL AFRICA (SEGUNDO O MAPPA DE DAPPER), _To face page_ 10
1676
MAPPA DE KRAPE, REBMANN, LIVINGSTONE & ERHARDT, ” 12
1849-56
LIVINGSTONE, BURTON AND SPEKE, SPEKE & GRANT AND ” 14
VON DER DECKEN, 1856-1863
SCHWEINFURTH, BAKER, LIVINGSTONE, STANLEY & ” 18
CAMERON, 1866-75
STANLEY, 1874-77 ” 20
A MAP OF THE ROUTE OF STANLEY “THROUGH THE DARK ” 49
CONTINENT,” 1874-1877, AS WELL AS OF THE EMIN
PASHA RELIEF EXPEDITION THROUGH AFRICA
SKETCH MAP; CAPE NAKARANGA ” 244
THROUGH THE DARK CONTINENT.
---
EXPLANATION.
PART I.
My new mission—The _Daily Telegraph_—“_Yes; Bennett_”—The _Lady Alice_—
My European staff—Disappointed applicants and thoughtful friends—My
departure for Africa. PART II. The sources of the Nile—Herodotus on
the Nile—Burton on the Nile basin—Lake Tanganika—Lake Victoria—Speke,
Grant, and Cameron—The Livingstone River—The work before me.
While returning to England in April 1874 from the Ashantee War, the news
reached me that Livingstone was dead—that his body was on its way to
England!
Livingstone had then fallen! He was dead! He had died by the shores of
Lake Bemba, on the threshold of the dark region he had wished to
explore! The work he had promised me to perform was only begun when
death overtook him!
The effect which this news had upon me, after the first shock had passed
away, was to fire me with a resolution to complete his work, to be, if
God willed it, the next martyr to geographical science, or, if my life
was to be spared, to clear up not only the secrets of the Great River
throughout its course, but also all that remained still problematic and
incomplete of the discoveries of Burton and Speke, and Speke and Grant.
The solemn day of the burial of the body of my great friend arrived. I
was one of the pall-bearers in Westminster Abbey, and when I had seen
the coffin lowered into the grave, and had heard the first handful of
earth thrown over it, I walked away sorrowing over the fate of David
Livingstone.
I laboured night and day over my book, ‘Coomassie and Magdala,’ for I
was in a fever to begin that to which I now had vowed to devote myself.
Within three weeks the literary work was over, and I was free.
Soon after this I was passing by an old book-shop, and observed a volume
bearing the singular title of ‘How to Observe.’ Upon opening it, I
perceived it contained tolerably clear instructions of ‘How and what to
observe.’ It was very interesting, and it whetted my desire to know
more; it led me to purchase quite an extensive library of books upon
Africa, its geography, geology, botany, and ethnology. I thus became
possessed of over one hundred and thirty books upon Africa, which I
studied with the zeal of one who had a living interest in the subject,
and with the understanding of one who had been already four times on the
continent. I knew what had been accomplished by African Explorers, and I
knew how much of the dark interior was still unknown to the world. Until
late hours I sat up, inventing and planning, sketching out routes,
laying out lengthy lines of possible exploration, noting many
suggestions which the continued study of my project created. I also drew
up lists of instruments and other paraphernalia that would be required
to map, lay out, and describe the new regions to be traversed.
I had strolled over one day to the office of the _Daily Telegraph_, full
of the subject. While I was discussing journalistic enterprise in
general with one of the staff, the Editor entered. We spoke of
Livingstone and the unfinished task remaining behind him. In reply to an
eager remark which I made, he asked:—
“Could you, and would you, complete the work? And what is there to do?”
I answered:
“The outlet of Lake Tanganika is undiscovered. We know nothing scarcely—
except what Speke has sketched out—of Lake Victoria; we do not even know
whether it consists of one or many lakes, and therefore the sources of
the Nile are still unknown. Moreover, the western half of the African
continent is still a white blank.”
“Do you think you can settle all this, if we commission you?”
“While I live, there will be something done. If I survive the time
required to perform all the work, all shall be done.”
The matter was for the moment suspended, because Mr. James Gordon
Bennett, of the _New York Herald_, had prior claims on my services.
A telegram was despatched to New York to him: “Would he join the _Daily
Telegraph_ in sending Stanley out to Africa, to complete the discoveries
of Speke, Burton, and Livingstone?” and, within twenty-four hours, my
“new mission” to Africa was determined on as a joint expedition, by the
laconic answer which the cable flashed under the Atlantic: “Yes;
Bennett.”
A few days before I departed for Africa, the _Daily Telegraph_ announced
in a leading article that its proprietors had united with Mr. James
Gordon Bennett in organizing an expedition of African discovery, under
the command of Mr. Henry M. Stanley. “The purpose of the enterprise,” it
said, “is to complete the work left unfinished by the lamented death of
Dr. Livingstone; to solve, if possible, the remaining problems of the
geography of Central Africa; and to investigate and report upon the
haunts of the slave-traders.” * * * * “He will represent the two nations
whose common interest in the regeneration of Africa was so well
illustrated when the lost English explorer was rediscovered by the
energetic American correspondent. In that memorable journey, Mr. Stanley
displayed the best qualities of an African traveller; and with no
inconsiderable resources at his disposal to reinforce his own complete
acquaintance with the conditions of African travel, it may be hoped that
very important results will accrue from this undertaking to the
advantage of science, humanity, and civilisation.”
Two weeks were allowed me for purchasing boats—a yawl, a gig, and a
barge—for giving orders for pontoons, and purchasing equipment, guns,
ammunition, rope, saddles, medical stores, and provisions; for making
investments in gifts for native chiefs; for obtaining scientific
instruments, stationery, &c., &c. The barge was an invention of my own.
It was to be 40 feet long, 6 feet beam, and 30 inches deep, of Spanish
cedar ⅜ inch thick. When finished, it was to be separated into five
sections, each of which should be 8 feet long. If the sections should be
over-weight, they were to be again divided into halves for greater
facility of carriage. The construction of this novel boat was undertaken
by Mr. James Messenger, boat-builder, of Teddington, near London. The
pontoons were made by Cording, but though the workmanship was beautiful,
they were not a success, because the superior efficiency of the boat for
all purposes rendered them unnecessary. However, they were not wasted.
Necessity compelled us, while in Africa, to employ them for far
different purposes from those for which they had originally been
designed.
There lived a clerk at the Langham Hotel, of the name of Frederick
Barker, who, smitten with a desire to go to Africa, was not to be
dissuaded by reports of its unhealthy climate, its dangerous fevers, or
the uncompromising views of exploring life given to him. “He would go,
he was determined to go,” he said. To meet the earnest entreaties of
this young man, I requested him to wait until I should return from the
United States.
[Illustration: THE ‘LADY ALICE’ IN SECTIONS.]
Mr. Edwin Arnold, of the _Daily Telegraph_, also suggested that I should
be accompanied by one or more young English boatmen of good character,
on the ground that their river knowledge would be extremely useful to
me. He mentioned his wish to a most worthy fisherman, named Henry
Pocock, of Lower Upnor, Kent, who had kept his yacht for him, and who
had fine stalwart sons, who bore the reputation of being honest and
trustworthy. Two of these young men volunteered at once. Both Mr. Arnold
and myself warned the Pocock family repeatedly that Africa had a cruel
character, that the sudden change from the daily comforts of English
life to the rigorous one of an explorer would try the most perfect
constitution; would most likely be fatal to the uninitiated and
unacclimatized. But I permitted myself to be overborne by the eager
courage and devotion of these adventurous lads, and Francis John Pocock
and Edward Pocock, two very likely-looking young men, were accordingly
engaged as my assistants.
I crossed over to America, the guest of Mr. Ismay, of the ‘White Star’
line, to bid farewell to my friends, and after a five days’ stay
returned in a steamer belonging to the same Company.
Meantime, soon after the announcement of the “New Mission,” applications
by the score poured into the offices of the _Daily Telegraph_ and _New
York Herald_ for employment. Before I sailed from England, over 1200
letters were received from “generals,” “colonels,” “captains,”
“lieutenants,” “midshipmen,” “engineers,” “commissioners of hotels,”
mechanics, waiters, cooks, servants, somebodies and nobodies, spiritual
mediums and magnetizers, &c. &c. They all knew Africa, were perfectly
acclimatized, were quite sure they would please me, would do important
services, save me from any number of troubles by their ingenuity and
resources, take me up in balloons or by flying carriages, make us all
invisible by their magic arts, or by the “science of magnetism” would
cause all savages to fall asleep while we might pass anywhere without
trouble. Indeed I feel sure that, had enough money been at my disposal
at that time, I might have led 5000 Englishmen, 5000 Americans, 2000
Frenchmen, 2000 Germans, 500 Italians, 250 Swiss, 200 Belgians, 50
Spaniards and 5 Greeks, or 15,005 Europeans, to Africa. But the time had
not arrived to depopulate Europe, and colonize Africa on such a scale,
and I was compelled to respectfully decline accepting the valuable
services of the applicants, and to content myself with Francis John and
Edward Pocock, and Frederick Barker—whose entreaties had been seconded
by his mother, on my return from America.
I was agreeably surprised also, before departure, at the great number of
friends I possessed in England, who testified their friendship
substantially by presenting me with useful “tokens of their regard” in
the shape of canteens, watches, water-bottles, pipes, pistols, knives,
pocket companions, manifold writers, cigars, packages of medicine,
Bibles, prayer-books, English tracts for the dissemination of religious
knowledge among the black pagans, poems, tiny silk banners, gold rings,
&c. &c. A lady for whom I have a reverent respect presented me also with
a magnificent prize mastiff named ‘Castor,’ an English officer presented
me with another, and at the Dogs’ Home at Battersea I purchased a
retriever, a bull-dog, and a bull-terrier, called respectively by the
Pococks, ‘Nero,’ ‘Bull,’ and ‘Jack.’
There were two little farewell dinners only which I accepted before my
departure from England. One was at the house of the Editor of the _Daily
Telegraph_, where I met Captain Fred. Burnaby and a few other kind
friends. Captain Burnaby half promised to meet me at the sources of the
Nile. The other was a dinner given by the representative of the _New
York Herald_, at which were present Mr. George Augustus Sala, Mr. W. G.
Stillman, Mr. George W. Smalley, and three or four other journalists of
note. It was a kindly quiet good-bye, and that was my last of London.
On the 15th of August, 1874, having shipped the Europeans, boats, and
dogs, and general property of the expedition—which, through the kindness
of Mr. Henry Bayley, of the Peninsular and Oriental Company, and Mr.
William Mackinnon, of the British India Steam Navigation Company, were
to be taken to Zanzibar at half-fares—I left England for the east coast
of Africa to begin my explorations.
EXPLANATION.
PART II.
THE SOURCES OF THE NILE.
“Yet still no views have urged my ardour more
Than Nile’s remotest fountains to explore;
Then say what source the famous stream supplies,
And bids it at revolving periods rise;
Show me the head from whence since time begun
The long succession of his waves have run;
This let me know, and all my toils shall cease,
The sword be sheathed, and earth be blessed with peace.”
_Pharsalia_ (_Cæsar loq._).
In the fifth century, before the Christian era began, Herodotus, the
first great African traveller, wrote about the Nile and its sources as
follows:—
“Respecting the nature of this river, the Nile, I was unable to gain any
information, either from the priests or any one else. I was very
desirous, however, of learning from them why the Nile, beginning at the
summer solstice, fills and overflows for a hundred days; and when it has
nearly completed this number of days, falls short in its stream, and
retires; so that it continues low all the winter, until the return of
the summer solstice. Of these particulars I could get no information
from the Egyptians, though I inquired whether this river has any
peculiar quality that makes it differ in nature from other rivers. Being
anxious, then, of knowing what was said about this matter, I made
inquiries, and also how it comes to pass that this is the only one of
all rivers that does not send forth breezes from its surface.
Nevertheless, some of the Greeks, wishing to be distinguished for their
wisdom, have attempted to account for these inundations in three
different ways; two of these ways are scarcely worth mentioning, except
that I wish to show what they are. One of them says that the Etesian
winds are the cause of the swelling of the river, by preventing the Nile
from discharging itself into the sea. But frequently the Etesian winds
have not blown, yet the Nile produces the same effects; besides, if the
Etesian winds were the cause, all other rivers that flow opposite to the
same winds must of necessity be equally affected and in the same manner
as the Nile; and even so much the more, as they are less and have weaker
currents; yet there are many rivers in Syria, and many in Libya, which
are not all affected as the Nile is. The second opinion shows still more
ignorance than the former, but, if I may so say, is more marvellous. It
says that the Nile, flowing from the ocean, produces this effect; and
that the ocean flows all round the earth. The third way of resolving
this difficulty is by far the most specious, but most untrue. For by
saying that the Nile flows from melted snow, it says nothing, for this
river flows from Libya through the middle of Ethiopia and discharges
itself in Egypt; how therefore, since it runs from a very hot to a
colder region, can it flow from snow? Many reasons will readily occur to
men of good understanding, to show the improbability of its flowing from
snow. The first and chief proof is derived from the winds, which blow
hot from those regions; the second is, that the country, destitute of
rain, is always free from ice; but after snow has fallen, it must of
necessity rain within five days; so that if snow fell, it would also
rain in these regions. In the third place, the inhabitants become black
from the excessive heat: kites and swallows continue there all the year;
and the cranes, to avoid the cold of Scythia, migrate to these parts as
winter quarters: if then ever so little snow fell in this country
through which the Nile flows, and from which it derives its source, none
of these things would happen, as necessity proves. But the person who
speaks about the ocean, since he has referred his account to some
obscure fable, produces no conviction at all, for I do not know any
river called the Ocean, but suppose that Homer, or some other ancient
poet, having invented the name, introduced it into poetry.”
Captain Burton the learned traveller has some excellent paragraphs in
his ‘Nile Basin,’ and remarks on this topic in connection with Ptolemy:—
“That early geographer places his lake Nilus a little to the south of
the Equator (about ten degrees), and 5° E. long. from Alexandria—that
is, in 34° or 35° E. long. by our mode of reckoning. He was led into an
error in placing these portions of the interior, bearing, as he
conceived, from certain points in the east. Thus he places Cape Aromatum
(Cape Asser or Cape Guardafui) in 6° N. lat., which we know to be in 11°
48′ 50″, being thus, say, 6° out of its true place. He places the lake,
the source of the western branch of the river, 1° more to the north and
8° more to the west than the one for the eastern branch; subsequent
inquiries may show us that these great features of Africa may yet turn
out to be substantially correct.
“We cannot here enter into any disquisition regarding the discrepancies
that appear amongst the very ancient authors regarding these parts of
Africa. We notice only those that are consistent and most valuable, and
as bearing upon the priority of discovery and geographical knowledge.
The earliest period we hear of Ethiopia is in the capture of the capital
thereof by Moses 1400 years before our era, and 90 or 100 years before
the departure of the Israelites from Egypt. Josephus calls it Saba, and
states that it was very strong, situated on the River Astosabos, and
that the name was changed to Meroë, by Cambyses, in honour of his sister
Meroë. There were known to ancient writers three great tributaries to
the Nile in Ethiopia, namely, the Astaboras (Tatazze), the Astosabos
(Blue River), and the Astapus (White River). Herodotus says the source
of the Nile, Astosabos, was twenty days’ journey to the south of Meroë,
which will bring it to Lake Dembea or Tzana. According to Ptolemy, the
position of Meroë was in 16° 25′ N. lat., but the ancient astronomer
Hipparchus has placed it in 16° 51′, which may be taken as the most
correct. Caillaud found the vast ruins in 16° 56′. Under Psammeticus,
the first Egyptian king that reigned after the final expulsion of the
Ethiopian kings from Egypt, 240,000 emigrants from Egypt settled in an
island south of the island of Meroë, that is beyond Khartoum, between
the Blue and the White Rivers, and at eight days’ journey east of the
Nubæ, or Nubatæ. Subsequently the Roman arms extended to those parts.
Petronius, the Roman general under Augustus, thirty years before our
era, took and destroyed Napata, the ancient capital of Tirhaka, situated
on the great northern bend of the Nile at Mount Barkhall, where vast
ruins are still found. Meroë certainly, the capital of Queen Candace,
mentioned in the New Testament (Acts viii. 27), also fell under the
Roman yoke. Nero, early in his reign, sent a remarkable exploring party,
under two centurions, with military force, to explore the source of the
Nile and the countries to the west of the Astapus or White River, at
that early day considered to be the true Nile. Assisted by an Ethiopian
sovereign (Candace, no doubt), they went through the district now known
as Upper Nubia, to a distance of 890 Roman miles from Meroë. In the last
part of their journey they came to immense marshes, the end of which no
one seemed to know, amongst which the channels were so narrow that the
light boat or canoe in use was barely sufficient to carry one man across
them. Still they continued their course south till they saw the river
tumbling down or issuing out between the rocks, when they turned back,
carrying with them a map of the regions through which they had passed:
for Nero’s guidance and information. This, it may be remarked, is
exactly the case still. The Dutch ladies told us last year that they
found the channels amongst these marshes so thick that the lightest
canoe, made of bulrushes, scarcely fit to carry one man, could not find
room to pass on them or across them. After this Pliny, Strabo, and other
Roman authors took notice of this position of Africa, but without giving
us anything important or new.”
I quote from Captain Burton once more certain passages. “Edrisi, who was
born in Nubia, but who wrote in Egypt about A.D. 1400, says, in that
part of Ethiopia south and south-west of Nubia is first seen the
separation of the two Niles. The one flows from south to north into
Egypt, and the other part of the Nile flows from east to west; and upon
that branch of the Nile lie all, or at least the most celebrated
kingdoms of the Negroes. ‘From the Mountains of the Moon,’ says
Scheadeddin, ‘the Egyptian Nile takes its rise. It cuts horizontally the
equator in its course north. Many rivers come from this mountain, and
unite in a great lake. From this lake comes the Nile, the greatest and
most beautiful of the rivers of all the earth. Many rivers derived from
this great river water Nubia,’ &c.
“From the Arabs we may fairly descend to our own times. The early
Portuguese discoverers obtained a great deal of geographical information
regarding the interior of Africa, and especially regarding two lakes
near the Equator, from one of which, the most northern, the Egyptian
Nile was stated to flow. This information was largely used by the French
geographer (D’Anville), and the Dutch geographers of that time.
Subsequently Bruce and others told us about the great disparity in
magnitude between the Blue and the White Rivers; the latter, they
asserted, rose far to the south, near to the Equator, and amongst
mountains covered with eternal snow. Twenty-five years ago, Mohammed
Ali, the clear-sighted and energetic ruler of Egypt, sent an expedition,
consisting of several barques well provided with everything necessary,
and under able naval officers, to explore the White Nile to its source,
if possible. They did their work so far well, but were forced to turn
back on the 26th of January, 1840, in lat. 30° 22′ N., for want of
sufficient depth of water for their vessels. At lat. 3° 30′ they found
the river 1370 feet broad and say six feet deep. In every day’s work on
the voyage they gave the width of the river, the depth of the river, the
force of its current, its temperature, and the miles (geographical) made
good daily.”
These quotations bring us down to our own times. A few of the principal
characters, through whose agency the problem of the Sources of the Nile
has been solved, still live. The old African Association became merged
in 1831 into the Royal Geographical Society. The change of title seems
to have evoked greater energies, and the publications of the new
society, the position of its President, his influence, learning, and
tact, soon attracted general public attention. In the midst of this,
Messrs. Krapf and Rebmann and Erhardt, missionaries located at Mombasa,
on the east coast of Africa, announced that Arab traders and natives
acquainted with the interior informed them that far inland there was a
very large lake, or several lakes, which some spoke of under one
collective title. The information thus obtained was illustrated by a
sketch map by Mr. Erhardt, and was published in the ‘Proceedings of the
Royal Geographical Society’ in 1856, “the most striking feature of which
was a vast lake of a curious shape, extending through 12° of latitude.”
LAKE TANGANIKA.
The Royal Geographical Society was induced to despatch an expedition to
East Africa for the exploration of this interesting inland region, the
command of which it entrusted to Lieutenant Richard Francis Burton, and
Lieutenant John Hanning Speke, officers of the East Indian Army.
Lieutenant Burton was already distinguished as an enterprising traveller
by his book, ‘Pilgrimage to Mekka and Medina.’ Speke had, until this
time, only a local reputation, but bore the character of being a very
promising officer, and an amiable gentleman with a fondness for natural
history and botanical studies, besides being an ardent sportsman and an
indefatigable pedestrian.
Burton and Speke’s expedition landed at Zanzibar on the 20th of
December, 1856. On the 13th of February, 1858, after a journey of 950
miles, and at a distance of 540 lineal geographical miles from the point
of departure on the Indian Ocean, they first sighted and discovered Lake
Tanganika. How much they explored of the lake is best illustrated by
their map, which is appended to this present volume. Speke first crossed
Lake Tanganika to the western side to Kasengé, an island, then returned
by the same route to Kawelé, the district or quarter occupied at that
time by the Arabs, in a large straggling village on the shores of the
lake, in the country of Ujiji.
On the second exploration of the lake, Lieutenant Burton accompanied
Lieutenant Speke to a cove in Uvira, which is about thirteen miles from
the north end of the lake. Unable to reach the extremity of the lake,
they both returned to Ujiji. Lieutenant Speke was most anxious to
proceed on a third tour of exploration of the lake, but was overruled by
his chief, Lieutenant Burton. On the 26th of May, 1858, the expedition
turned homewards, arriving in Unyanyembé on the 20th of June.
LAKE VICTORIA
While Lieutenant Burton preferred to rest in Unyanyembé to collect the
copious information about the Lake Regions from the Arabs and natives,
which we see set forth in a masterly manner in his book, Lieutenant
Speke, of a more active disposition, mustered a small force of men, and,
with his superior’s permission, set out northward on July 9, 1858, on an
exploring tour, and on the 30th of the same month arrived at the south
end of a lake called by the Wanyamwezi who were with him the N’yanza, or
the Lake, and by the Arabs, Ukerewé.
At Muanza, in Usukuma, he took a survey of the body of the water such as
might be embraced in a view taken from an altitude of 200 feet above the
lake.
In his reflections on the magnitude of the water expanse before him,
Speke wrote: “I no longer felt any doubt that the lake at my feet gave
birth to that interesting river, the source of which has been the
subject of so much speculation, and the object of so many explorers.”
* * * * * *
And again: “This is a far more extensive lake than the Tanganika; so
broad you could not see across it, and so long that nobody knew its
length.” To this magnificent lake Lieutenant Speke, its discoverer, gave
the name of Victoria N’yanza.
From this short view of the Victoria Lake, Speke returned to Unyanyembé,
and announced to Lieutenant Burton that he had discovered the source of
the White Nile. Lieutenant Burton did not acquiesce in his companion’s
views of the importance of the discovery, and in his ‘Lake Regions’ and
‘Nile Basins,’ in lectures, speeches, and essays in magazines, and
conversations with friends, always vigorously combated the theory.
On the 30th of February, 1859, Burton and Speke’s task of exploration,
which had occupied twenty-five months, terminated with the arrival of
the expedition at the little maritime village of Konduchi, on the Indian
Ocean.
* * * * * *
On opening John Hanning Speke’s book, ‘Journal of the Discovery of the
Source of the Nile,’ we are informed on the very first page that his
second important expedition into Africa, “which was avowedly for the
purpose of establishing the truth of the assertion that the Victoria
N’yanza (which he discovered on the 30th of July, 1858) would eventually
prove to be the source of the Nile, may be said to have commenced on the
9th of May, 1859, the first day of his return to England from his last
expedition, when, at the invitation of Sir Roderick Impey Murchison, he
called at his house to show him his map, for the information of the
Royal Geographical Society.”
Mr. Speke who was now known as Captain Speke, was intrusted with the
command of the succeeding expedition which the Royal Geographical
Society determined to send out for the purpose of verifying the theories
above stated. He was accompanied this time by an old brother officer in
India, Captain James Augustus Grant.
The expedition under Speke and Grant set out from Zanzibar on the 25th
of September, 1860. On the 23rd of January, 1861, it arrived at the
house occupied by Burton and Speke’s expedition, in Tabora, Unyanyembé,
having traversed nearly the entire distance along the same route that
had been adopted formerly. In the middle of May the journey to Karagwé
began. After a stay full of interest with Rumanika, king of Karagwé,
they followed a route which did not permit them even a view of Lake
Victoria, until they caught sight of the great lake near Meruka, on the
31st of January, 1862. From this point, the expedition, up to its
arrival at the court of Mtesa, emperor of Uganda, must have caught
several distant views of the lake, though not travelling near its
shores. During a little excursion from the Emperor’s capital, they also
discovered a long broad inlet, which is henceforth known as Murchison
Bay, on its northern coast.
On the 7th of July, 1862, the two travellers started in a north-easterly
direction, away from the lake, and Speke states that he arrived at
Urondogani on the 21st. From this point he marched up the river along
the left bank, and reached the Ripon Falls at the outlet of Lake
Victoria on the 20th of July. He thus sums up the result and net value
of the explorations of himself and companion in the years 1860-62:—
“The Expedition had now performed its functions. I saw that old Father
Nile without any doubt rises in the Victoria N’yanza, and as I had
foretold, that Lake is the great source of the holy river which cradled
the first expounder of our religious belief.... The most remote waters,
or _top-head of the Nile_, is the southern end of the lake, situated
close on the 3° lat., which gives to the Nile the surprising length in
direct measurement, rolling over 34 degrees of latitude, of above 2300
miles, or more than one-eleventh of the circumference of our globe. Now,
from the southern point round by the west, to where the great Nile
stream rises, there is only one feeder of any importance, and that is
the _Kitangule_ River; while from the southernmost point round by the
east, to the strait, there are no rivers of any importance.”...
He christened the falling effluent, where it drops from the level of the
lake and escapes northerly into the Victoria Nile, “Ripon Falls,” in
honour of the Earl of Ripon, who was President of the Royal Geographical
Society when the expedition was organised, and the arm of the lake from
which the Victoria Nile issued, Napoleon Channel, as a token of respect
to the Paris Geographical Society, who had honoured him with a gold
medal for the discovery of Lake Victoria.
Following this paragraph, Captain Speke makes an important statement, to
which I beg attention: “One thing seemed at first perplexing, the volume
of water in the Kitangule (Alexandra Nile) looked as large as the Nile
(Victoria), but then the one was a slow river, and the other swift, and
on this account I could form no adequate judgment of their relative
values.”
On the 4th of June, Captain Speke and Grant embarked at Alexandria,
Egypt, for England, where they arrived after an absence of 1146 days.
Though one might suppose that the explorers had sufficient grounds for
supposing that Lake Victoria covered an enormous area, quite as large,
or, approaching to the 29,000 square miles’ extent Captain Speke boldly
sketched it, there were not wanting many talented men to dispute each
point in the assertions he made. One of the boldest who took opposing
views to Speke was his quondam companion, Captain R. F. Burton, and he
was supported by very many others, for very plausible reasons, which
cannot, however, be touched upon here.
Doctor David Livingstone, while on his last expedition, obtained much
oral information in the interior of Africa from Arab traders, which
dissected Speke’s Grand Lake into five; and it really seemed as if, from
the constant assaults made upon it by geographers and cartographers, it
would in time be erased from the chart altogether, or become a mere
“rush drain,” like one of those which Speke and Grant found so numerous
in that region. It was evident, therefore, that a thorough exploration
of Lake Victoria was absolutely necessary to set at rest, once and for
ever, one of the great problems that was such a source of trouble and
dissatisfaction to the geographers of Europe and America.
LAKE TANGANIKA AGAIN.
The next European to arrive at the shores of Lake Tanganika, after
Burton and Speke, was Dr. David Livingstone. He first saw it as he stood
on the verge of the plateau which rises steeply from the surface of the
Tanganika at its south-west corner, on the 2nd of April, 1867; and on
the 14th of March, 1869, and after traversing nearly the whole of the
western shore from the extreme south end of the lake to Kassengé, the
island which Speke visited in 1858, he crossed over to the east side and
reached Ujiji.
On the 15th of July, 1869, after camping at Kassengé, when on his way to
Manyema, he writes in his journal the following opinion of Lake
Tanganika; “Tanganika narrows at Uvira or Vira, and goes out of sight
among the mountains; then it appears as a waterfall into the Lake of
Quando, seen by Banyamwezi.”
In his letters home Dr. Livingstone constantly made mention of two
lakes, called Upper Tanganika, which Burton discovered, and Lower
Tanganika, which Sir Samuel Baker discovered, and which formed, as he
said, the second line of drainage trending to and discharging its waters
into the Nile.
He makes record in his Journals of the causes which induced him to
verify his opinions by a personal investigation of the north end of Lake
Tanganika on the 16th of November, 1871, a few days after my arrival, at
Ujiji, I being the fourth European who had arrived on the shores of the
Lake, in this manner:—
“_16th November, 1871._—As Tanganika Explorations are said by Mr.
Stanley to be an object of interest to Sir Roderick, we go at his
expense and by his men to the north end of the lake.”
“_24th November._—To Point Kisuka in Mukamba’s country. A Mgwana came to
us from King Mukamba, and asserted most positively that all the water of
Tanganika flowed into the River Lusizé, and then on to Ukerewe of Mteza;
nothing could be more clear than his statements.”
“_25th November._—Our friend of yesterday now declared as positively as
before, that the water of Lusizé flowed into Tanganika, and not the way
he said yesterday! Tanganika closes in except at one point N. and by W.
of us.”
“_26th November._—The end of Tanganika seen clearly, is rounded off
about 4′ broad from east to west.”
On the 29th of November, Livingstone and I, in a canoe manned by several
strong rowers, entered into Lusizé, or Rusizi, and discovered that it
flowed _into_ Lake Tanganika by three mouths with an impetuous current.
The explorations of Livingstone and myself in November 1871 to the north
end of Lake Tanganika resolved that portion of the problem, but
described only about thirteen miles of coast unvisited by Burton and
Speke. On our way back, however, by a southern route to Unyanyembé, we
added to the knowledge of the Tanganika coast-line, on the eastern side
from Kabogo Point as far as Urimba, about twenty miles farther than
Speke had seen.
In August 1872, about five months after I had departed from him
homewards, he recommenced his last journey. On the 8th of October of the
same year he saw the Tanganika again about sixty miles south of the
point where he and I bade farewell to the lake, eight months previously.
Clinging to the lake, he travelled along the eastern shore, until he
reached the southernmost end of it.
From this it will appear evident that the only portion of Lake Tanganika
remaining unvisited was that part of the west-end shore, between Kasengé
Island and the northernmost point of what Burton and Speke called Ubwari
Island, and what Livingstone and I called Muzimu Island. Doubtless there
were many portions of Livingstone’s route overland which rendered the
coast line somewhat obscure, and in his hurried journey to Ujiji in
1869, by canoe from Mompara’s to Kasengé, a portion of the Uguha coast
was left unexplored. But it is Livingstone who was the first to map out
and give a tolerably correct configuration to that part of Lake
Tanganika extending from Urimba round to the south end and up along the
eastern shore to Kasengé Island, as it was Burton and Speke who were the
first to map out that portion of the Tanganika extending from Ujiji to a
point nearly opposite Ubwari and the north-west, from Ubwari’s north end
as far as Uvira.
In February 1874 Lieutenant Verney Lovett Cameron, R.N., arrived at the
same village of Ujiji, which had been seen by Burton and Speke in 1858,
and which was known as the place where I discovered Livingstone in 1872.
He had traversed a route rendered familiar to thousands of the readers
of the ‘Lake Regions of Central Africa,’ ‘the Journal of the Discovery
of the Nile,’ and ‘How I found Livingstone,’ through a country carefully
mapped, surveyed and described. But the land that lay before him
westerly had only been begun by Livingstone, and there were great and
important fields of exploration beyond the farthest point he had
reached.
Lieutenant Cameron procured two canoes, turned south, and coasted along
the eastern shore of the Tanganika, and when near the southern end of
the Lake, crossed it, turned up north along the western shore, and
discovered a narrow channel, between two spits of pure white sand.
Entering this channel, the Lukuga creek, he traced it until farther
progress was stopped by an immovable and impenetrable barrier of
papyrus. This channel, Lieutenant Cameron wrote, was the outlet of Lake
Tanganika. Satisfied with his discovery, he withdrew from the channel,
pursued his course along the west coast as far as Kasengé Island, the
camping-place of both Speke and Livingstone, and returned direct to
Ujiji without making further effort.
Lake Tanganika, as will be seen, upon Lieutenant Cameron’s departure,
had its entire coast-line described, except the extreme south end, the
mouth of the Lufuvu and that portion of coast lying between Kasengé
Island and the northern point of Ubwari, about 140 miles in extent.
LIVINGSTONE’S GREAT RIVER.
What we knew distinctly of this great river began with Livingstone’s
last journey, when he wrote from Ujiji in 1869, repeating what he had
already written in 1867, at the town of Cazembe, in a despatch to Lord
Clarendon.
Briefly, this last journey began, let us say, at Zanzibar, the date of
his arrival being the 28th of January, 1866. On the 19th of March he
sailed in H.M.S. _Penguin_ for the mouth of the Rovuma river, after
invoking the blessing of the Most High upon his meditated intercourse
with the heathen. Effecting a landing at Mikindini Bay, he directed his
course in a south-westerly direction, arriving within view of Lake
Nyassa on the 13th of September, 1866.
On the 16th of January, 1867, he reached the most southerly streams
emptying into the Chambezi, after crossing the mountains which separate
the streams flowing east to the Loangwa. He describes the northern slope
which gives birth to the affluents of the new river thus: “It is
needless to repeat that it is all forest on the northern slopes of the
mountains—open glade and miles of forest; ground at present all sloppy,
oozes full and overflowing, feet constantly wet. Rivulets rush with
clear water; though they are in flood we can guess which are perennial
and which are torrents that dry up; they flow northwards and westwards
to the Chambezi.”
Eight days later, in S. lat. 10° 34′, he reached the main river—the
Chambezi—a stream “flooded with clear water-banks not more than 40 yards
apart, showing abundant animal life in its waters and on its banks as it
flowed westwards.” Just at the point Livingstone first saw the Chambezi,
numerous streams are gathered from all points—northerly, easterly, and
southerly, from the westerly slope of the uplands of Mambwe into the
main river, which presently becomes a formidable river, and which
subsequent explorations proved to enter Lake Bemba on its eastern side.
On the 8th of November, 1867, the traveller makes a very comprehensive
statement. It is the evening of his arrival at Lake Mweru or Moero.
“Lake Moero seems of goodly size, and is flanked by ranges of mountains
on the east and west. Its banks are of coarse sand, and slope gradually
down to the water; outside of these banks stands a thick belt of
tropical vegetation in which fishermen build their huts. The country
called Rua lies on the west, and is seen as a lofty range of dark
mountains; another range of less height, but more broken, stands along
the eastern shore.”
* * * * * *
“The northern shore has a fine sweep, like an unbent bow, and round the
western end flows the water that makes the River Lualaba, which, before
it enters Mweru, is the Luapula, and that again (if the most intelligent
report speak true) is the Chambezi before it enters Lake Bemba or
Bangweolo.”
On page 261, vol i., of ‘Livingstone’s Last Journals,’ he sums up very
succinctly what knowledge he has gained of the country which was the
scene of his explorations, 1866-67. “First of all the Chambezi runs in
the country of Mambwe, N.E. of Molemba. It then flows S.W. and W. till
it reaches 11° S. lat. and long. 29° E., where it forms Lake Bemba or
Bangweolo. Emerging thence, it assumes the new name Luapula, and comes
down here to fall into Mweru. On going out of this lake it is known by
the name Lualaba as it flows N.W. in Rua to form another lake with many
islands called Ulengé or Urengé. Beyond this, information is not
positive as to whether it enters Tanganika, or another lake beyond
that.”
On the 18th of July, 1868, the discovery of Lake Bemba or Bangweolo was
made by Dr. Livingstone.
On page 59, vol. ii., ‘Last Journals,’ we think we have an explanation
of the causes which led him to form those hypotheses and theories which
he subsequently made public by his letters, or elaborated in his
journals, on the subject of the Nile Sources.
“_Bambarre, 25th August, 1870._—One of my waking dreams is that the
legendary tales about Moses coming up into Lower Ethiopia, with Merr his
foster mother, and founding a city which he called in her honour
‘Meroe,’ may have a substratum of fact.”
* * * * * *
“I dream of discovering some monumental relics of Meroe, and if anything
confirmatory of sacred history does remain, I pray to be guided
thereunto. If the sacred chronology would thereby be confirmed, I would
not grudge the toil and hardship, hunger and pain I have endured—the
irritable ulcers would only be discipline.”
The old explorer, a grand spectacle and a specimen of most noble manhood
in these latter days of his life, travels on and on, but never reaches
nearer the solution of the problem which puzzles his soul than the Arab
depot Nyangwé, which is situate a few miles south of 4° S. lat. and a
little east of 26° E. long. where he leaves the great river still
flowing north.
Livingstone never returned to this point, but retracing his steps to
Ujiji, thence to the north end of Lake Tanganika and back again to Ujiji
and Unyanyembé, directed his course to the southern shore of Lake Bemba,
where he died of dysentery in the beginning of May 1873.
In the month of August 1874, Lieutenant Cameron, whom we left at Ujiji
after the delineation of that part of Lake Tanganika south of Ujiji,
after traversing Livingstone’s route to Kasongo’s Manyema, and
travelling by canoe about thirty-five miles, reaches Nyangwé, his
predecessor’s farthest point. Though he does not attempt to resolve this
problem, or penetrate the region north of Nyangwé, Lieutenant Cameron
ventures upon the following hypothesis: “This great stream must be one
of the head-waters of the Kongo, for where else could that giant amongst
rivers, second only to the Amazon in its volume, obtain 2,000,000 cubic
feet of water which it unceasingly pours each second into the Atlantic?
The large affluents from the north would explain the comparatively small
rise of the Kongo at the coast; for since its enormous basin extends to
both sides of the equator, some portion of it is always under the zone
of rains, and therefore the supply to the main stream is nearly the same
at all times, instead of varying as is the case with tropical rivers,
whose basins lie completely on one side of the equator.” Lieutenant
Cameron illustrates his hypothesis by causing Livingstone’s great river
to flow soon after leaving Nyangwé straight westward, the highest part
of which is only 3° 30′ S. lat.
At Nyangwé, Lieutenant Cameron crossed the river, proceeded south with
some Arab traders a few days’ journey, then, accompanied by guides,
travelled still south to Juma Merikani’s, or Kasongo’s, thence, after a
stay of nearly nine months, accompanied by Portuguese traders, he
proceeded to Benguella, a small port belonging to the Portuguese
Government on the Atlantic Ocean, having crossed Africa from east to
west south of S. lat. 4°.
The above is a brief sketch which with the aid of the small maps
attached to this volume explains and illustrates the several
geographical problems left by my predecessors. I now propose to describe
how these problems were solved, and the incomplete discoveries of Burton
and Speke, Speke and Grant, and Doctor Livingstone were finished, and
how we sighted the lake Muta N’zigé, by its broad arm, which I have
called Beatrice Gulf, by a comprehensive exploration, lasting, from sea
to sea, two years eight months and twenty days; the results of which are
to be found embodied in these two volumes, entitled: ‘_Through the Dark
Continent; the Sources of the Nile, around the Great Lakes of Africa,
and down the “Livingstone” to the Atlantic Ocean_.’
-----
# 1:
The portrait has been graciously subscribed—
“All’ intrepido viaggiatore
“Enrico Stanley
“UMBERTO RE.”
# 2:
I have received the honour of appointment as Officier de l’Instruction
Publique, France; Gold Medallist of the Geographical Societies of
London, Paris, Italy, and Marseilles; Silver Medallist of the Chamber
of Commerce of Marseilles, and of the Municipality of Marseilles;
Honorary Member of the Geographical Societies of Antwerp, Berlin,
Bordeaux, Bremen, Hamburg, Lyons, Marseilles, Montpellier, Vienna, &c.
[Illustration:
VIEW OF A PORTION OF THE SEA-FRONT OF ZANZIBAR, FROM THE WATER
BATTERY TO SHANGANI POINT.
(_From a photograph by Mr. Buchanan, of Natal._)]
]
CHAPTER I.
Arrival at Zanzibar Island—Life at Zanzibar—The town of Zanzibar, its
roadstead and buildings—The One Cocoa-nut tree and the red cliffs—
Selection and purchase of goods for the journey—Residence of Prince
Barghash—Busy mornings—Pleasant rides and quiet evenings.
_Sept. 21._—Twenty-eight months had elapsed between my departure from
Zanzibar after the discovery of Livingstone and my re-arrival on that
island, September 21, 1874.
The well-remembered undulating ridges, and the gentle slopes clad with
palms and mango trees bathed in warm vapour, seemed in that tranquil
drowsy state which at all times any portion of tropical Africa presents
at first appearance. A pale-blue sky covered the hazy land and sleeping
sea as we steamed through the strait that separates Zanzibar from the
continent. Every stranger, at first view of the shores, proclaims his
pleasure. The gorgeous verdure, the distant purple ridges, the calm sea,
the light gauzy atmosphere, the semi-mysterious silence which pervades
all nature, evoke his admiration. For it is probable that he has sailed
through the stifling Arabian Sea, with the grim, frowning mountains of
Nubia on the one hand, and on the other the drear, ochreous-coloured
ridges of the Arab Peninsula; and perhaps the aspect of the thirsty
volcanic rocks of Aden and the dry brown bluffs of Guardafui is still
fresh in his memory.
But a great change has taken place. As he passes close to the deeply
verdant shores of Zanzibar Island, he views nature robed in the greenest
verdure, with a delightful freshness of leaf, exhaling fragrance to the
incoming wanderer. He is wearied with the natural deep-blue of the
ocean, and eager for any change. He remembers the unconquerable aridity
and the dry bleached heights he last saw, and lo! what a change!
Responding to his half formed wish, the earth rises before him verdant,
prolific, bursting with fatness. Palms raise their feathery heads and
mangoes their great globes of dark green foliage; banana plantations
with impenetrable shade, groves of orange, fragrant cinnamon, and
spreading bushy clove, diversify and enrich the landscape. Jack-fruit
trees loom up with great massive crowns of leaf and branch, while
between the trees and in every open space succulent grasses and plants
cover the soil with a thick garment of verdure. There is nothing grand
or sublime in the view before him, and his gaze is not attracted to any
special feature, because all is toned down to a uniform softness by the
exhalation rising from the warm heaving bosom of the island. His
imagination is therefore caught and exercised, his mind loses its
restless activity, and reposes under the influence of the eternal summer
atmosphere.
Presently on the horizon there rises the thin upright shadows of ships’
masts, and to the left begins to glimmer a pale white mass which, we are
told, is the capital of the island of Zanzibar. Still steaming
southward, we come within rifle-shot of the low green shores, and now
begin to be able to define the capital. It consists of a number of
square massive structures, with little variety of height and all
whitewashed, standing on a point of low land, separated by a broad
margin of sand beach from the sea, with a bay curving gently from the
point, inwards to the left towards us.
Within two hours from the time we first caught sight of the town, we
have dropped anchor about 700 yards from the beach. The arrival of the
British India Company’s steamer causes a sensation. It is the monthly
“mail” from Aden and Europe! A number of boats break away from the beach
and come towards the vessel. Europeans sit at the stern, the rowers are
white-shirted Wangwana[3] with red caps. The former are anxious to hear
the news, to get newspapers and letters, and to receive the small
parcels sent by friendly hands “per favour of captain.”
The stranger, of course, is intensely interested in this life existing
near the African Equator, now first revealed to him, and all that he
sees and hears of figures and faces and sounds is being freshly
impressed on his memory. Figures and faces are picturesque enough.
Happy, pleased-looking men of black, yellow, or tawny colour, with long
white cotton shirts, move about with quick, active motion, and cry out,
regardless of order, to their friends or mates in the Swahili or Arabic
language, and their friends or mates respond with equally loud voice and
lively gesture, until, with fresh arrivals, there appears to be a Babel
created, wherein English, French, Swahili, and Arabic accents mix with
Hindi, and, perhaps, Persian.
In the midst of such a scene I stepped into a boat to be rowed to the
house of my old friend, Mr. Augustus Sparhawk, of the Bertram Agency. At
this low-built, massive-looking house near Shangani Point, I was
welcomed with all the friendliness and hospitality of my first visit,
when, three years and a half previously, I arrived at Zanzibar to set
out for the discovery of Livingstone.
With Mr. Sparhawk’s aid I soon succeeded in housing comfortably my three
young Englishmen, Francis John and Edward Pocock and Frederick Barker,
and my five dogs, and in stowing safely on shore the yawl _Wave_, bought
for me at Yarmouth by Mr. Edwin Arnold, the gig, and the tons of goods,
provisions, and stores I had brought.
Life at Zanzibar is a busy one to the intending explorer. Time flies
rapidly, and each moment of daylight must be employed in the selection
and purchase of the various kinds of cloth, beads, and wire, in demand
by the different tribes of the mainland through whose countries he
purposes journeying. Strong, half-naked porters come in with great bales
of unbleached cottons, striped and coloured fabrics, handkerchiefs and
red caps, bags of blue, green, red, white and amber-coloured beads,
small and large, round and oval, and coils upon coils of thick brass
wire. These have to be inspected, assorted, arranged, and numbered
separately, have to be packed in portable bales, sacks, or packages, or
boxed according to their character and value. The house-floors are
littered with cast-off wrappings and covers, box-lids, and a medley of
rejected paper, cloth, zinc covers and broken boards, sawdust and other
débris. Porters and servants and masters, employés and employers, pass
backwards and forwards, to and fro, amid all this litter, roll bales
over, or tumble about boxes; and a rending of cloth or paper, clattering
of hammers, demands for the marking-pots, or the number of bale and box,
with quick, hurried breathing and shouting, are heard from early morning
until night.
Towards evening, after such a glaring day of glaring heat and busy
toil, comes weariness: the arm-chair is sought, and the pipe or cigar
with a cup of tea rounds off the eventful hours. Or, as sometimes the
case would be, we would strike work early, and after a wholesome dinner
at 4.30 P.M. would saddle our horses and ride out into the interior of
the island, returning during the short twilight. Or we would take the
well-known path to Mnazi-Moya—the One Cocoa-nut Tree, where it stands
weird and sentinel-like over humble tombs on the crest of an ancient
beach behind Shangani Point. Or, as the last and only resource left to
a contemplative and studious mind, we would take our easy-chairs on the
flat roof, where the cowhides of the merchant are poisoned and dried,
and, with our feet elevated above our heads, watch the night coming.
If we take our ride, in a few minutes we may note, at the pleasantest
hour, those local features which, with the thermometer at 95° Fahr.,
might have been a dangerous pleasure, or, at any rate, disagreeable.
Through a narrow, crooked, plastered lane, our horses’ feet clattering
noisily as we go, we ride by the tall, white-washed, massive houses,
which rise to two and three stories above our heads. The residences
of the European merchants and the officials here stand side by side,
and at the tall doorway of each sits the porter—as comfortable as his
circumstances will permit. As we pass on, we get short views of the
bay, and then plunge again into the lane until we come in view of the
worm-eaten old fort, crumbling fast into disuse and demolition. Years
ago, behind it, I saw a market where some slaves were being sold.
Happily there is no such market now.
We presently catch sight, on our right, of the entrance to the fort
at which sit on guard a few lazy Baluchis and dingy-looking Arabs. On
our left is the saluting battery, which does frequent service for the
ignition of much powder, an antique mode of exchanging compliments
with ships of war, and of paying respect to Government officials. The
customs sheds are close by, and directly in front of us rises the
lofty house and harem of Prince Barghash. It is a respectable-looking
building of the Arab architecture which finds favour at Muscat, three
stories high and whitewashed—as all houses here appear to be. It
is connected by a covered gangway, about 30 feet above our heads,
with a large house on the opposite side of the lane, and possesses
an ambitious doorway raised 3 feet above the street, and reached by
four or five broad and circular-steps. Within the lower hall are some
soldiers of the same pattern as those at the fort, armed with the
Henry-Martini rifle, or matchlock, sword, and targe. A very short time
takes us into a still narrower lane, where the whitewash is not so
white as at Shangani, the European quarter. We are in the neighbourhood
of Melindi now, where the European who has not been able to locate
himself at Shangani is obliged to put up with neighbours of East Indian
race or Arabs. Past and beyond Melindi is a medley of tall white
houses and low sheds, where wealth and squalor jostle side by side,
and then we find ourselves at the bridge over the inlet of Malagash,
which extends from the bay up to Mnazi-Moya, or the One Cocoa-nut,
behind Shangani. The banks on either side are in view as we pass over
the bridge, and we note a dense mass of sheds and poor buildings,
amid hills of garbage and heaps of refuse, and numbers of half-naked
negroes, or people in white clothes, giving the whole an appearance
somewhat resembling the more sordid village of Boulak, near Cairo.
Having crossed the bridge from Melindi, we are in what is very
appropriately termed Ngambu, or “t’other side.” The street is wide, but
the quarter is more squalid. It is here we find the Wangwana, or
Freedmen of Zanzibar, whose services the explorer will require as escort
on the continent. Here they live very happily with the well-to-do
Coastman, or Mswahili, poor Banyans, Hindis, Persians, Arabs, and
Baluchis, respectable slave artisans, and tradesmen. When the people
have donned their holiday attire, Ngambu becomes picturesque, even gay,
and yields itself up to wild, frolicsome abandon of mirth. On working
days, though the colours are still varied, and give relief to the clay
walls and withered palm-frond roofs, this poor man’s district has a
dingy hue, which black faces and semi-naked bodies seems to deepen.
However, the quarter is only a mile and a half long, and quickening our
paces, we soon have before us detached houses and huts, clusters of
cocoa-nut palms and ancient mango trees crowned with enormous dark green
domes of foliage. For about three miles one can enjoy a gallop along an
ochreous-coloured road of respectable width, bordered with hedges.
Behind the hedges grow the sugar-cane, banana, palm, orange, clove
cinnamon, and jack-fruit trees, cassava, castor-oil, diversified with
patches of millet, Indian corn, sweet-potatoes, and egg-plant, and
almost every vegetable of tropic growth. The fields, gently undulating,
display the variety of their vegetation, on which the lights and shadows
play, deepening or paling as the setting sun clouds or reveals the
charms of the verdure.
Finally arriving upon the crest of Wirezu hill, we have a most beautiful
view of the roadstead and town of Zanzibar, and, as we turn to regard
it, are struck with the landscape lying at our feet. Sloping away
gradually towards the town, the tropical trees already mentioned seem,
in the bird’s-eye view, to mass themselves into a thin forest, out of
which, however, we can pick out clearly the details of tree and hut.
Whatever of beauty may be in the scene, it is Nature’s own, for man has
done little; he has but planted a root, or a seed, or a tender sapling
carelessly. Nature has nourished the root and the seed and the sapling,
until they became sturdy giants, rising one above another in hillocks of
dark green verdure, and has given to the whole that wonderful depth and
variety of colour which she only exhibits in the Tropics.
The walk to Mnazi-Moya will compel the traveller to moralize, and
meditate pensively. Decay speaks to him, and from the moment he leaves
the house to the moment he returns, his mind is constantly dwelling
upon mortality. For, after lounging through two or three lanes, he
comes to a populous graveyard, over which the wild grass has obtained
supreme control, and through the stalks of which show white the fading
and moss-touched headstones. Across the extensive acreage allotted
to the victims of the sad cholera years, the Prince of Zanzibar has
ruthlessly cut his way to form a garden, which he has surrounded
with a high wall. Here a grinning skull and there a bleached thigh
bone or sunken grave exposing its ghastly contents attract one’s
attention. From time immemorial this old beach has been the depository
of the dead, and unless the Prince prosecutes his good work for the
reclamation of this golgotha (and the European officials urge it on
him), the custom may be continued for a long period yet.
Beyond this cemetery is to be seen the muddy head of Malagash inlet,
between which and the sea south of Shangani there lies only this antique
sand bar, about two hundred yards in breadth. On the crest of the sand
bar stands the One Cocoa-nut Palm which has given its name to this
locality. Sometimes this spot is also known as the “fiddler’s” grave. It
is the breathing place of the hard-worked and jaded European, and here,
seated on one of the plastered tombs near the base of the One Cocoa-nut
Palm, with only a furtive look now and then at the “sleep and a
forgetting” which those humble white structures represent, he may take
his fill of ocean and watch the sun go down to his daily rest.
[Illustration: RED CLIFFS BEHIND UNIVERSITIES MISSION.]
Beyond Mnazi-Moya is Mbwenni, the Universities Mission, and close behind
are some peculiar red cliffs, which are worth seeing.
From the roof of the house, if we take the “last resource” already
mentioned, we have a view of the roadstead and bay of Zanzibar.
Generally there ride at anchor two or three British ships of war just in
from a hunt after contumacious Arabs, who persist, against the orders of
their prince, in transporting slaves on the high seas. There is a vessel
moored closer to Frenchman’s Island, its “broken back” a memento of the
Prince’s fleet shattered by the hurricane of 1872. Nearer in-shore float
a number of Arab dhows, boats, lighters, steam launches, and two
steamers, one of which is the famous _Deerhound_. One day I counted as a
mere matter of curiosity, the great and small vessels in roadstead and
harbour, and found that there were 135.
From our easy-chairs on the roof we can see the massive building
occupied formerly by the Universities Mission, and now the residence of
Captain Prideaux, Acting British Consul and Political Resident, whose
acquaintance I first made soon after his release from Magdala in 1868.
This building stands upon the extremity of Shangani Point, and the first
line of houses which fronts the beach extends northerly in a gentle
sweep, almost up to Livingstone’s old residence on the other side of
Malagash inlet.
During the day the beach throughout its length is alive with the moving
figures of hamals, bearing clove and cinnamon bags, ivory, copal and
other gums, and hides, to be shipped in the lighters waiting along the
water’s edge, with sailors from the shipping, and black boatmen
discharging the various imports on the sand. In the evening the beach is
crowded with the naked forms of workmen and boys from the “go-downs,”
preparing to bathe and wash the dust of copal and hides off their bodies
in the surf. Some of the Arab merchants have ordered chairs on the
piers, or bunders, to chat sociably until the sun sets, and prayer time
has come. Boats hurry by with their masters and sailors returning to
their respective vessels. Dhows move sluggishly past, hoisting as they
go the creaking yards of their lateen sails, bound for the mainland
ports. Zanzibar canoes and “matepes” are arriving with wood and produce,
and others of the same native form and make are squaring their mat
sails, outward bound. Sunset approaches, and after sunset silence
follows soon. For as there are no wheeled carriages with the eternal
rumble of their traffic in Zanzibar, with the early evening comes early
peace and rest.
The intending explorer, however, bound for that dark edge of the
continent which he can just see lying low along the west as he looks
from Zanzibar, has thoughts at this hour which the resident cannot
share. As little as his eyes can pierce and define the details in that
gloomy streak on the horizon, so little can he tell whether weal or woe
lies before him. The whole is buried in mystery, over which he ponders,
certain of nothing but the uncertainty of life. Yet will he learn to
sketch out a comparison between what he sees at sunset and his own
future. Dark, indeed, is the gloom of the fast-coming night over the
continent, but does he not see that there are still bright flushes of
colour, and rosy bars, and crimson tints, amidst what otherwise would be
universal blackness? And may he not therefore say—“As those colours now
brighten the darkening west, so my hopes brighten my dark future”?
[Illustration: A HOUSE AT ZANZIBAR.]
-----
# 3:
Wangwana (freed negroes).
CHAPTER II.
Seyyid Barghash—His prohibition of slavery, character and reforms—Treaty
with British Government by Sir Bartle Frere—Tramways the need of
Africa—Arabs in the interior—Arabs in Zanzibar—Mtuma or Mgwana?—The
Wangwana, their vices and virtues—A Mgwana’s highest ambition—The
Wanyamwezi “the coming race.”
_Oct. 1874._—The foot-note at the bottom of this page will explain all
that need be known by the general reader in connection with the
geography of the Island of Zanzibar.[4] Any student who wishes to make
the island a special study will find books dealing most minutely with
the subject at all great libraries. Without venturing, therefore, into
more details than I have already given in ‘How I found Livingstone,’ I
shall devote this chapter to the Sultan of Zanzibar—Barghash bin Sayid—
the Arabs, the Wangwana, and the Wanyamwezi, with whose aid the objects
of the Anglo-American Expedition were attained.
It is impossible not to feel a kindly interest in Prince Barghash,
and to wish him complete success in the reforms he is now striving
to bring about in his country. Here we see an Arab prince, educated
in the strictest school of Islam, and accustomed to regard the black
natives of Africa as the lawful prey of conquest or lust, and fair
objects of barter, suddenly turning round at the request of European
philanthropists and becoming one of the most active opponents of the
slave-trade—and the spectacle must necessarily create for him many
well-wishers and friends.
[Illustration: SEYYID BARGHASH.]
Though Prince Barghash has attributed to myself the visit of those ships
of war under Admiral Cumming, all who remember that period, and are
able, therefore, to trace events, will not fail to perceive that the
first decided steps taken by the British Government for the suppression
of the slave-trade on the east coast of Africa were due to the influence
of Livingstone’s constant appeals. Some of his letters, they will
remember, were carried by me to England, and the sensation caused by
them was such as to compel the British Government to send Sir Bartle
Frere in the _Enchantress_, as a special envoy to Zanzibar, to conclude
a treaty with Prince Barghash. When the Prince’s reluctance to sign
became known, the fleet under Admiral Cumming made its appearance before
Zanzibar, and by a process of gentle coercion, or rather quiet
demonstration, the signature of the Prince was at last obtained. One
thing more, however, still remained to be done before the treaty could
be carried into full effect, and that was to eradicate any feeling of
discontent or sullenness from his mind which might have been created by
the exhibition of force, and this I was happy to see, was effected by
the hospitable reception he enjoyed in England in 1875. There was a
difference in the manner and tone of the Sultan of 1874 and of 1877,
that I can only attribute to the greater knowledge he had gained of the
grandeur of the power which he had so nearly provoked. We must look upon
him now as a friendly and, I believe, sincere ally, and as a man willing
to do his utmost for the suppression of the slave-trade.
VIEW FROM THE ROOF OF MR. AUGUSTUS SPARHAWK’S HOUSE.
Frank Pocock. Frederick Barker. A Zanzibar boy. Edward Pocock.
Kalulu.
Bull-terrier “Jack.” “Bull.” Retriever “Nero.” Mastiff
“Captain.” Prize Mastiff “Castor.”
The philanthropist having at last obtained such signal success with the
Prince, it is time the merchant should attempt something with him. The
Prince must be considered as an independent sovereign. His territories
include, besides the Zanzibar, Pemba, and Mafia islands, nearly 1000
miles of coast, and extend probably over an area of 20,000 square
miles, with a population of half a million. The products of Zanzibar
have enriched many Europeans who traded in them. Cloves, cinnamon,
tortoise-shell, pepper, copal gum, ivory, orchilla weed, indiarubber,
and hides have been exported for years; but this catalogue does not
indicate a tithe of what might be produced by the judicious investment
of capital. Those intending to engage in commercial enterprise would
do well to study works on Mauritius, Natal, and the Portuguese
territories, if they wish to understand what these fine, fertile lands
are capable of. The cocoa-nut palm flourishes at Zanzibar and on the
mainland, the oil palm thrives luxuriantly in Pemba, and sugar-cane
will grow everywhere. Caoutchouc remains undeveloped in the maritime
belts of woodland, and the acacia forests, with their wealth of gums,
are nearly untouched. Rice is sown on the Rufiji banks, and yields
abundantly; cotton would thrive in any of the rich river bottoms; and
then there are, besides, the grains, millet, Indian corn, and many
others, the cultivation of which, though only in a languid way, the
natives understand. The cattle, coffee, and goats of the interior await
also the energetic man of capital and the commercial genius.
First, however, the capitalist must find means of carriage, otherwise he
will never conquer African difficulties. Cutting roads through jungles,
and employing waggons, are mere temporary conveniences, requiring great
outlay, patience, and constant reinforcement of work and energies.
Almost as fast as the land is cleared, it is covered again—so prolific
is the soil—with tall wild grasses of the thickness of cane, and one
season is sufficient to undo the work of months of the pioneer. Cattle
die, tormented out of life by the flies or poisoned by the rank grasses;
natives perish from want of proper nourishment, and, while suffering
from fatigue and debility, are subject to many fatal diseases.
A tramway is one thing that is needed for Africa. All other benefits
that can be conferred by contact with civilisation will follow in the
wake of the tramway, which will be an iron bond, never to be again
broken, between Africa and the more favoured continents.
However energetic the small merchant may be, he can effect nothing
permanent for the good of a country that has neither roads nor navigable
rivers, whose climate is alike fatal to the starved hamal as it is to
the beast of burthen. The maritime belt must first be crossed by an iron
road, and another must tap the very centre of the rice-fields of the
Rufiji valley, in order to insure cheap, nutritious food in abundance.
To a company, however, which can raise the sum required to construct a
tramway, East Africa holds out special advantages. The Sultan himself
offers a handsome sum, five lakhs of dollars or, roughly, £100,000, and
there are rich Hindis at Zanzibar who, no doubt, would invest large
sums, and thus the company would become the principal merchants along
the line. The Sultan has also poor subjects enough who would be only too
glad of the opportunities thus afforded to work for reasonable pay, so
that very little fear need be entertained of lack of labour. Besides,
there are natives of the interior who, after two or three bold examples,
would soon be induced to apply for employment along the line.
Those whom we call the Arabs of Zanzibar are either natives of Muscat
who have immigrated thither to seek their fortunes, or descendants of
the conquerors of the Portuguese. As the present Sultan calls himself
Barghash the son of Sayid, the son of Sultan, the son of Hamid, so all
Arabs, from the highest to the lowest of his subjects, are known by
their proper names—Ahmed, or Khamis, or Abdullah, as being the sons of
Mussoud, of Mustapha, or of Mohammed. Some of them boast of unusually
long pedigrees, and one or two I am acquainted with proclaimed
themselves of purer and more aristocratic descent than even the Sultan.
The Arab conquerors who accompanied Seyyid Sultan, the grandfather of
the present Seyyid Barghash, took unto themselves, after the custom
of polygamists, wives of their own race according to their means,
and almost all of them purchased negro concubines, the result of
which we trace to-day in the various complexions of those who call
themselves Arabs. By this process of miscegenation the Arabs of the
latest migration are already rapidly losing their rich colour and fine
complexions, while the descendants of the Arabs of the first migration
are now deteriorated so much that on the coast they can scarcely be
distinguished from the Aborigines. While many of the descendants of
the old settlers who came in with Seyyid Sultan, still cling to their
homesteads, farms, and plantations, and acquire sufficient competence
by the cultivation of cloves, cinnamon, oranges, cocoa-nut palms,
sugar-cane, and other produce, a great number have emigrated into the
interior to form new colonies. Hamed Ibrahim has been eighteen years
in Karagwé, Muini Kheri has been thirty years in Ujiji, Sultan bin Ali
has been twenty-five years in Unyanyembé, Muini Dugumbi has been eight
years in Nyangwé, Juma Merikani has been seven years in Rua, and a
number of other prominent Arabs may be cited to prove that, though they
themselves firmly believe that they will return to the coast some day,
there are too many reasons for believing that they never will.
None of the Arabs in the interior with whom I am acquainted ever
proceeded thither with the definite intention of colonisation. Some were
driven thither, by false hopes of acquiring rapid fortunes by the
purchase of slaves and ivory, and, perceiving that there were worse
places on earth than Africa, preferred to remain there, to facing the
odium of failure. Others borrowed large sums on trust from credulous
Hindis and Banyans, and having failed in the venture now prefer to
endure the exclusion to which they have subjected themselves, to
returning and being arrested by their enraged creditors. Others again
are not merely bankrupts, but persons who have fled the vengeance of the
law for political offences, as well as ordinary crimes. There are many
who are in better circumstances in the interior than they would be on
their own island of Zanzibar. Some of them have hundreds of slaves, and
he would be a very poor Arab indeed who possessed only ten. These
slaves, under their masters’ direction have constructed roomy,
comfortable, flat-roofed houses, or lofty cool huts, which, in the
dangerous and hostile districts, are surrounded by strong stockades.
Thus, at Unyanyembé there are sixty or seventy large stockades enclosing
the owner’s house and storerooms, as well as the numerous huts of his
slaves. Ujiji, again, may be described as a long straggling village,
formed by the large tembes of the Arabs; and Nyangwé is another
settlement similar to Ujiji. Many of the Arabs settled in the pastoral
districts possess large herds of cattle and extensive fields where rice,
wheat, Indian corn, and millet are cultivated, besides sugar-cane and
onions, and the fruit trees of Zanzibar—the orange, lemon, papaw, mango,
and pomegranate—are now being gradually introduced.
The Arabs of Zanzibar, whether from more frequent intercourse with
Europeans or from other causes, are undoubtedly the best of their race.
More easily amenable to reason than those of Egypt, or the shy,
reserved, and bigoted fanatics of Arabia, they offer no obstacles to the
European traveller, but are sociable, frank, good-natured, and
hospitable. In business they are keen traders, and of course will exact
the highest percentage of profit out of the unsuspecting European if
they are permitted. They are staunch friends and desperate haters. Blood
is seldom satisfied without blood, unless extraordinary sacrifices are
made.
The conduct of an Arab gentleman is perfect. Indelicate matters are
never broached before strangers; impertinence is hushed instantly by the
elders, and rudeness is never permitted. Naturally, they have the vices
of their education, blood, and race, but these moral blemishes are by
their traditional excellence of breeding seldom obtruded upon the
observation of the stranger.
After the Arabs let us regard the Wangwana, just as in Europe, after
studying the condition and character of the middle classes, we might
turn to reflect upon that of the labouring population.
Of the Wangwana there will be much written in the following pages, the
outcome of careful study and a long experience of them. Few explorers
have recorded anything greatly to their credit. One of them lately said
that the negro knows neither love nor affection; another that he is
simply the “link” between the simian and the European. Another says,
“The wretches take a trouble and display an ingenuity in opposition and
disobedience, in perversity, annoyance, and villainy, which rightly
directed would make them invaluable.” Almost all have been severe in
their strictures on the negro of Zanzibar.
The origin of the Mgwana or Freeman may be briefly told. When the Arabs
conquered Zanzibar, they found the black subjects of the Portuguese to
be of two classes, Watuma (slaves) and Wangwana (freemen). The Freemen
were very probably black people who had either purchased their freedom
by the savings of their industry or were made free upon the death of
their masters; these begat children who, being born out of bondage, were
likewise free. Arab rulers, in classifying their subjects, perceived no
great difference in physique or general appearance between those who
were slaves and those who were free, both classes belonging originally
to the same negro tribes of the interior. Thus, when any of these were
brought before the authorities convicted of offences, the question
naturally asked was, “Are you a Mtuma, a slave, or a Mgwana, a freeman?”
A repetition of these questions through a long course of years
established the custom of identifying the two classes of Zanzibar
negroes as Watuma—slaves—and Wangwana—freemen. Later, however, came a
new distinction, and the word Watuma, except in special and local cases,
was dropped, for, with the advent of the free native traders direct from
the mainland, and the increase of traffic between Zanzibar and the
continent, as well as out of courtesy to their own slaves, the Arabs
began to ask the black stranger, “Are you Mgwana, a freeman, or Mshensi,
a pagan?” In disputes among themselves the question is still asked, “Are
you a slave or a freeman?” but when strangers are involved, it is
always, “Are you Mgwana, a freeman or a native of Zanzibar, or a
Mshensi, a pagan or an uncircumcised native of the mainland?”
It will be thus seen that the word “Wangwana” is now a generic, widely
used, and well understood for the coloured natives of Zanzibar. When,
therefore, the term is employed in this book, it includes alike both the
slaves and the freemen of Zanzibar.
After nearly seven years’ acquaintance with the Wangwana, I have come to
perceive that they represent in their character much of the disposition
of a large portion of the negro tribes of the continent. I find them
capable of great love and affection, and possessed of gratitude and
other noble traits of human nature; I know too, that they can be made
good, obedient servants, that many are clever, honest, industrious,
docile, enterprising, brave and moral; that they are, in short, equal to
any other race or colour on the face of the globe, in all the attributes
of manhood. But to be able to perceive their worth, the traveller must
bring an unprejudiced judgment, a clear, fresh, and patient observation,
and must forget that lofty standard of excellence upon which he and his
race pride themselves, before he can fairly appreciate the capabilities
of the Zanzibar negro. The traveller should not forget the origin of his
own race, the condition of the Briton before St. Augustine visited his
country, but should rather recall to mind the first state of the “wild
Caledonian,” and the original circumstances and surroundings of
Primitive Man.
Louis Figuier says: “However much our pride may suffer by the idea, we
must confess that, at the earliest period of his existence, man could
have been but little distinguished from the brute. His pillow was a
stone, his roof was the shadow of a wide-spreading tree, or some dark
cavern, which also served as a refuge against wild beasts.”
And again, in his chapter on the ‘Iron Epoch,’ he notes how “From the
day when iron was first placed at man’s disposal, civilisation began to
make its longest strides, and as the working of this metal improved, so
the dominion of man—his faculties and his intellect—real activity—
likewise enlarged in the same proportion.” And at the end of a most
admirable book, he counsels the traveller, “Look to it, less thy pride
cause thee to forget thy own origin.”
Being, I hope, free from prejudices of cast, colour, race, or
nationality, and endeavouring to pass what I believe to be a just
judgment upon the negroes of Zanzibar, I find that they are a people
just emerged into the Iron Epoch, and now thrust forcibly under the
notice of nations who have left them behind by the improvements of over
4000 years. They possess beyond doubt all the vices of a people still
fixed deeply in barbarism, but they understand to the full what and how
low such a state is; it is, therefore, a duty imposed upon us by the
religion we profess, and by the sacred command of the Son of God, to
help them out of the deplorable state they are now in. At any rate,
before we begin to hope for the improvement of races so long benighted,
let us leave off this impotent bewailing of their vices, and endeavour
to discover some of the virtues they possess as men, for it must be by
the aid of their virtues, and not by their vices, that the missionary of
civilisation can ever hope to assist them. While, therefore, recording
my experiences through Africa, I shall have frequent occasion to dilate
upon both the vices and the virtues of the Wangwana as well as of the
natives of the interior, but it will not be with a view to foster, on
the one hand, the self-deception of the civilised, or the absurd
prejudices created by centuries of superior advantages, nor, on the
other hand, to lead men astray by taking a too bright view of things. I
shall write solely and simply with a strong desire to enable all
interested in the negro to understand his mental and moral powers
rightly.
[Illustration:
COXSWAIN ULEDI, AND MANWA SERA, CHIEF CAPTAIN.
(_From a photograph._)
]
The Mgwana or native of Zanzibar, who dwells at Ngambu, is a happy,
jovial soul. He is fond of company, therefore sociable. His vanity
causes him to be ambitious of possessing several white shirts and
bright red caps, and since he has observed that his superiors use
walking-sticks, he is almost certain, if he is rich enough to own
a white shirt and a red cap, to be seen sporting a light cane. The
very poorest of his class hire themselves, or are hired out by their
masters, to carry bales, boxes, and goods, from the custom-house to
the boat, or store-room, or _vice versâ_, and as a general beast of
burden, for camels are few, and of wheeled vehicles there are none.
Those who prefer light work and have good characters may obtain
positions as doorkeepers or house-servants, or for washing copal and
drying hides for the European merchants. Others, trained as mechanics,
obtain a livelihood by repairing muskets, manufacturing knives, belts,
and accoutrements, or by carpentering and ship-building. There is
a class of Wangwana living at Ngambu, in the small gardens of the
interior of the island, and along the coast of the mainland, who prefer
the wandering life offered to them by Arab traders and scientific
expeditions to being subject to the caprice, tyranny, and meanness of
small estate proprietors. They complain that the Arabs are haughty,
grasping, and exacting; that they abuse them and pay them badly; that,
if they seek justice at the hands of the Cadis, judgment, somehow,
always goes against them. They say, on the other hand, that, when
accompanying trading or other expeditions, they are well paid, have
abundance to eat, and comparatively but little work.
But the highest ambition of a Mgwana is to have a house and _shamba_
or garden of his own. The shamba may only be large enough to possess
a dozen cocoa-nut-trees, a dozen rows, thirty yards long, of cassava
shrubs, half-a-dozen banana plants, half-a-dozen rows planted with
sweet-potatoes, and two or three rows of ground-nuts; nevertheless,
this would be _his_ garden or estate, and therefore of priceless
estimation. At one corner of this tiny but most complete estate, he
would erect his house, with an exclusive courtyard, which he would
stock with half-a-dozen chickens and one goat, which last he would be
sure to spoil with kindness. Three hundred dollars would probably be
the total value of house, garden, chickens, goat, domestic utensils,
tools, and all, and yet, with this property, he would be twice married,
the father of four or five children, and even the owner of a domestic
slave or two. If such be his condition, he will snap his fingers at the
cruel world, and will imagine himself as prosperous, well-to-do, and
comfortable as any Arab in Zanzibar. But he is seldom spoiled by this
great prosperity. He is a sociable, kindly-disposed man, and his frank,
hearty nature has won for him hosts of friends. Beer made of fermented
mtama or Indian corn, wine of the palm or cocoa-nut milk, or the
stronger _eau de vie_ sold by the Goanese in the town at twenty-five
cents the bottle, serve to diffuse and cement these friendships.
It is to the Wangwana that Livingstone, Burton, Speke and Grant owe, in
great part, the accomplishment of their objects, and while in the employ
of these explorers, this race rendered great services to geography. From
a considerable distance north of the Equator down to the Zambezi and
across Africa to Benguella and the mouth of the Livingstone, they have
made their names familiar to tribes who, but for the Wangwana, would
have remained ignorant to this day of all things outside their own
settlements. They possess with many weaknesses, many fine qualities.
While very superstitious, easily inclined to despair, and readily giving
ear to vague, unreasonable fears, they may also, by judicious
management, be induced to laugh at their own credulity and roused to a
courageous attitude; to endure like Stoics, and fight like heroes. It
will depend altogether upon the leader of a body of such men whether
their worst or best qualities shall prevail.
There is another class coming into notice from the interior of Africa,
who, though of a sterner nature, will, I am convinced, as they are
better known, become greater favourites than the Wangwana. I refer to
the Wanyamwezi, or the natives of Unyamwezi, and the Wasukuma, or the
people of Usukuma. Naturally, being a grade less advanced towards
civilization than the Wangwana, they are not so amenable to discipline
as the latter. While explorers would in the present state of
acquaintance prefer the Wangwana as escort, the Wanyamwezi are far
superior as porters. Their greater freedom from diseases, their great
strength and endurance, the pride they take in their profession of
porters, prove them born travellers of incalculable use and benefit to
Africa. If kindly treated, I do not know more docile and good-natured
creatures. But the discipline must not be strict, until they have had
opportunities of understanding their employer’s nature and habits, and
of comprehending that discipline does not mean abuse. Their courage they
have repeatedly proved under their Napoleonic leader Mirambo, in many a
well-fought field against the Arabs and Wangwana. Their skill in war,
tenacity of purpose, and determination to defend the rights of their
elected chief against foreigners, have furnished themes for song to the
bards of Central Africa. Tippu-Tib has led 500 of these men through
distant Bisa and the plains of Rua: Juma Merikani has been escorted by
them into the heart of the regions beyond the Tanganika: Khamis bin
Adallah commanded a large force of them in his search for ivory in the
intra-lake countries. The English discoverer of Lake Tanganika and,
finally, I myself have been equally indebted to them, both on my first
and last expeditions.
[Illustration: NEW CHURCH ON SITE OF OLD SLAVE MARKET, ZANZIBAR.]
From their numbers, and their many excellent qualities, I am led to
think that the day will come when they will be regarded as something
better than the “best of pagazis;” that they will be esteemed as the
good subjects of some enlightened power, who will train them up as the
nucleus of a great African nation, as powerful for the good of the Dark
Continent, as they threaten, under the present condition of things, to
be for its evil.
-----
# 4:
“The fort of Zanzibar is in S. lat. 6° 9′ 36″ and E. long. 39° 14′
33″.”—_East African Pilot._
CHAPTER III.
Organisation of the Expedition—The _shauri_—“Poli, poli”—Msenna’s
successful imposture—Black sheep in the flock—The _Lady Alice_
remodelled—Sewing a British flag—Tarya Topan, the millionaire—Signing
the covenants—“On the word of a white man”—Saying good-bye—Loading the
dhows—Vale!—Towards the Dark Continent.
_Nov. 1874._—It is a most sobering employment, the organizing of an
African expedition. You are constantly engaged, mind and body; now in
casting up accounts, and now travelling to and fro hurriedly to receive
messengers, inspecting purchases, bargaining with keen-eyed, relentless
Hindi merchants, writing memoranda, haggling over extortionate prices,
packing up a multitude of small utilities, pondering upon your lists of
articles, wanted, purchased, and unpurchased, groping about in the
recesses of a highly exercised imagination for what you ought to
purchase, and cannot do without, superintending, arranging, assorting,
and packing. And this under a temperature of 95° Fahr.
In the midst of all this terrific, high-pressure exercise arrives the
first batch of applicants for employment. For it has long ago been
bruited abroad that I am ready to enlist all able-bodied human beings
willing to carry a load, be they Wangwana or Wanyamwezi, Wagalla,
Somali, Wasagara, Wayow, Wajindo, Wagogo, or Wazaramo. Ever since I
arrived at Zanzibar, since which date I have been absent exploring the
Rufiji river, I have had a very good reputation among Arabs and
Wangwana. They have not forgotten that it was I who found the “old white
man”—Livingstone—in Ujiji, nor that liberality and kindness to my men
were my special characteristics. They have also, with the true Oriental
spirit of exaggeration, proclaimed that I was but a few months absent;
and that, after this brief excursion, they returned to their homes to
enjoy the liberal pay awarded them, feeling rather the better for the
trip than otherwise. This unsought-for reputation brought on me the
laborious task of selecting proper men out of an extraordinary number of
applicants. Almost all the cripples, the palsied, the consumptive, and
the superannuated that Zanzibar could furnish applied to be enrolled on
the muster list, but these, subjected to a searching examination, were
refused. Hard upon their heels came all the roughs, rowdies, and
ruffians of the island, and these, schooled by their fellows, were not
so easily detected. Slaves were also refused, as being too much under
the influence and instruction of their masters, and yet many were
engaged of whose character I had not the least conception until, months
afterwards, I learned from their quarrels in the camp how I had been
misled by the clever rogues.
All those who bore good characters on the Search Expedition, and had
been despatched to the assistance of Livingstone, in 1872, were employed
without delay. Out of these the chiefs were selected: these were, Manwa
Sera, Chowpereh, Wadi Rehani, Kachéché, Zaidi, Chakanja, Farjalla, Wadi
Safeni, Bukhet, Mabruki Manyapara, Mabruki Unyanyembé, Muini Pembe,
Ferahan, Bwana Muri, Khamseen, Mabruki Speke, Simba, Gardner, Hamoidah,
Zaidi Mganda, and Ulimengo.
But before real business could be entered into, the customary present
had to be distributed to each.
Ulimengo, or the _World_, the incorrigible joker and hunter-in-chief
of the Search and Livingstone’s expeditions, received a gold ring to
encircle one of his thick black fingers, and a silver chain to suspend
round his neck, which caused his mouth to expand gratefully. Rojab, who
was soon reminded of the unlucky accident with Livingstone’s Journal in
the muddy waters of the Mukondokwa, was endowed with a munificent gift
which won him over to my service beyond fear of bribery. Manwa Sera,
the redoubtable ambassador of Speke and Grant to Manwa Sera—the royal
fugitive distressed by the hot pursuit of the Arabs—the leader of my
second caravan in 1871, the chief of the party sent to Unyamyembé to
the assistance of Livingstone in 1872, and now appointed Chief Captain
of the Anglo-American Expedition, was rendered temporarily speechless
with gratitude because I had suspended a splendid jet necklace from
his neck, and ringed one of his fingers with a heavy seal ring. The
historical Mabruki Speke, called by one of my predecessors “Mabruki
the Bullheaded,” who has each time in the employ of European explorers
conducted himself with matchless fidelity, and is distinguished for
his hawk-eyed guardianship of their property and interests, exhibited
extravagant rapture at the testimonial for past services bestowed on
him; while the valiant, faithful, sturdy Chowpereh, the man of manifold
virtues, was rewarded for his former worth with a silver dagger, gilt
bracelet, and earrings. His wife was also made happy with a suitable
gift, and the heir of the Chowpereh estate, a child of two years, was,
at his father’s urgent request, rendered safe by vaccine from any
attack of the smallpox during our absence in Africa.
All great enterprises require a preliminary deliberative palaver, or, as
the Wangwana call it, “Shauri.” In East Africa particularly shauris are
much in vogue. Precipitate, energetic action is dreaded. “Poli, poli!”
or “Gently!” is the warning word of caution given.
The chiefs arranged themselves in a semi-circle on the day of the
shauri, and I sat _à la Turque_ fronting them. “What is it, my friends?
Speak your minds.” They hummed and hawed, looked at one another, as if
on their neighbours’ faces they might discover the purport of their
coming, but, all hesitating to begin, finally broke down in a loud
laugh.
Manwa Sera, always grave, unless hit dexterously with a joke, hereupon
affected anger, and said, “_You_ speak, son of Safeni; verily we act
like children! Will the master eat us?”
Wadi, son of Safeni, thus encouraged to perform the spokesman’s duty,
hesitates exactly two seconds, and then ventures with diplomatic
blandness and _graciosity_. “We have come, master, with words. Listen.
It is well we should know every step before we leap. A traveller
journeys not without knowing whither he wanders. We have come to
ascertain what lands you are bound for.”
Imitating the son of Safeni’s gracious blandness, and his low tone of
voice, as though the information about to be imparted to the intensely
interested and eagerly listening group were too important to speak it
loud, I described in brief outline the prospective journey, in broken
Kiswahili. As country after country was mentioned of which they had
hitherto but vague ideas, and river after river, lake after lake named,
all of which I hoped with their trusty aid to explore carefully, various
ejaculations expressive of wonder and joy, mixed with a little alarm,
broke from their lips, but when I concluded, each of the group drew a
long breath, and almost simultaneously they uttered admiringly, “Ah,
fellows, this is a journey worthy to be called a journey!”
“But, master,” said they, after recovering themselves, “this long
journey will take years to travel—six, nine, or ten years.” “Nonsense,”
I replied. “Six, nine, or ten years! What can you be thinking of? It
takes the Arabs nearly three years to reach Ujiji, it is true, but, if
you remember, I was but sixteen months from Zanzibar to Ujiji and back.
Is it not so?” “Ay, true,” they answered. “Very well, and I assure you I
have not come to live in Africa. I have come simply to see those rivers
and lakes, and after I have seen them to return home.” “Ah, but you know
the old master, Livingstone,” rejoined Hamoidah, who had followed the
veteran traveller nearly eight years, “said he was only going for two
years, and you know that he never came back, but died there.” “That is
true enough, but if I were quick on the first journey, am I likely to be
slow now? Am I much older than I was then? Am I less strong? Do I not
know what travel is now? Was I not like a boy then, and am I not now a
man? You remember while going to Ujiji I permitted the guide to show the
way, but when we were returning who was it that led the way? Was it not
I, by means of that little compass which could not lie like the guide?”
“Ay, true, master, true every word.” “Very well, then, let us finish the
shauri, and go. To-morrow we will make a proper agreement before the
consul;” and in Scriptural phrase, “they forthwith arose and did as they
were commanded.”
Upon receiving information from the coast that there was a very large
number of men waiting for me, I became still more fastidious in my
choice. But with all my care and gift of selection, I was mortified to
discover that many faces and characters had baffled the rigorous
scrutiny to which I had subjected them, and that some scores of the most
abandoned and depraved characters on the island had been enlisted by me
on the Expedition. One man, named Msenna, imposed upon me by assuming
such a contrite penitent look, and weeping such copious tears, when I
informed him that he had too bad a character to be employed, that my
good-nature was prevailed upon to accept his services, upon the
understanding that, if he indulged his murderous propensities in Africa,
I should return him chained the entire distance to Zanzibar, to be dealt
with by his Prince.
The defence of his conduct was something like this: “Bwana,[5] you see
these scars on my head and neck. They are from the sabres of the
Seyyid’s soldiers. Demand of any, Arab or Freeman, why I received them.
They will tell you they were inflicted for rebellion against Prince
Majid at Melinda. The Arabs hate me because I joined the coast men
against their authority. Can any one charge me with worse deeds?”—
appealing to the Wangwana. All were silent. “I am a free-born son of the
coast, and never did any man or woman who did not molest me the smallest
injury. Allah be praised! I am strong, healthy, and contented with my
lot, and if you take me you will never have cause to regret it. If you
fear that I shall desert, give me no advance pay, but pay me when I come
back to Zanzibar according to my deserts.”
This appeal was delivered with impassioned accents and lively gestures,
which produced a great effect upon the mixed audience who listened to
him, and gathering from their faces more than from my own convictions,
that poor scarred Msenna was a kind of political refugee, much abused
and very much misunderstood, his services were accepted, and as he
appeared to be an influential man, he was appointed a junior captain
with prospects of promotion and higher pay.
Subsequently, however, on the shores of Lake Victoria it was discovered—
for in Africa people are uncommonly communicative—that Msenna had
murdered eight people, that he was a ruffian of the worst sort, and that
the merchants of Zanzibar had experienced great relief when they heard
that the notorious Msenna was about to bid farewell for a season to the
scene of so many of his wild exploits. Msenna was only one of many of
his kind, but I have given in detail the manner of his enlistment that
my position may be better understood.
Soon after my return from the Rufiji delta, the B. I. S. N. Company’s
steamer _Euphrates_ had brought the sectional exploring boat, _Lady
Alice_, to Zanzibar. Exceedingly anxious for the portability of the
sections, I had them at once, weighed, and great were my vexation and
astonishment when I discovered that four of the sections weighed 280
lbs. each, and that one weighed 310 lbs.! She was, it is true, a marvel
of workmanship, and an exquisite model of a boat, such, indeed, as few
builders in England or America could rival, but in her present condition
her carriage through the jungles would necessitate a pioneer force a
hundred strong to clear the impediments and obstacles on the road.
While almost plunged into despair, I was informed that there was a very
clever English carpenter, named Ferris, about to leave by the
_Euphrates_ for England. Mr. Ferris was quickly made acquainted with my
difficulty, and for a “consideration” promised, after a personal
inspection of the boat, to defer his departure one month, and to do his
utmost to make the sections portable without lessening her efficiency.
When the boat was exhibited to him, I explained that the narrowness of
the path would make her portage absolutely impossible, for since the
path was often only 18 inches wide in Africa, and hemmed in on each side
with dense jungle, any package 6 feet broad could by no means be
conveyed along it. It was therefore necessary that each of the four
sections should be subdivided, by which means I should obtain eight
portable sections, each three feet wide, and that an afterpiece could
easily be made by myself upon arriving at the lakes. Mr. Ferris,
perfectly comprehending his instructions, and with the aid given by the
young Pococks, furnished me within two weeks with the newly modelled
_Lady Alice_. But it must be understood that her success as a safe
exploring boat is due to the conscientious workmanship which the honest
and thoroughly reliable boat-builder of Teddington lavished upon her.
The pride which the young Pococks and Frederick Barker entertained in
respect to their new duties, in the new and novel career of adventure
now opening before them, did not seem to damp that honourable love of
country which every Englishman abroad exhibits, and is determined to
gratify if he can. Their acquaintance with the shipwright, Mr. Ferris,
who had evidently assisted at the ceremony of planting the British flag
at the mast-head of many a new and noble structure, destined to plough
strange seas, reminded them, during one of the social evening hours
which they spent together, that it would be a fine thing if they might
also be permitted to hoist a miniature emblem of their nationality over
their tent in camp, and over their canoes on the lakes and rivers of
Africa.
[Illustration: A MAP OF THE ROUTE OF STANLEY “THROUGH THE DARK
CONTINENT” 1874-1877, AS WELL AS OF THE EMIN PASHA RELIEF EXPEDITION
THROUGH AFRICA.]]
The Pococks and Barker accordingly, a few days before our departure,
formed themselves into a deputation, and Frank, who was the spokesman,
surprised me with the following request:—
“My brother, Fred Barker, and myself, Sir, have been emboldened to ask
you a favour, which no doubt you will think strange and wrong. But we
cannot forget, wherever we go, that we are Englishmen, and we should
like to be permitted to take something with us that will always remind
us of who we are, and be a comfort to us, even in the darkest hours of
trouble, perhaps even encourage us to perform our duties better. We have
come to ask you, Sir, if we may be permitted to make a small British
flag to hoist above our tent, and over our canoe on the lakes.”
“My dear fellow,” I replied, “you surprise me by imagining for one
moment that I could possibly refuse you. This is not an American
Government or a British Government Expedition, and I have neither the
power nor the disposition to withhold my sanction to your request. If it
will be any pleasure to you, by all means take it, I cannot have the
slightest objection to such an innocent proceeding. All that I shall
require from you in Africa is such service as you can give, and if you
prove yourselves the highly recommended lads you are, I shall not
interfere with any innocent pleasure you may feel yourselves at liberty
to take. If one British flag is not enough, you may take a thousand so
far as I am concerned.”
“Thank you kindly, Sir. You may rest assured that we have entered your
service with the intention to remember what my old father and our
friends strictly enjoined us to do, which was to stick to you through
thick and thin.”
The young Englishmen were observed soon afterwards busy sewing a tiny
flag, about 18 inches square, out of some bunting, and after a pattern
that Mr. Ferris procured for them. Whether the complicated colours, red,
blue, white, were arranged properly, or the crosses according to the
standard, I am ignorant. But I observed that, while they were occupied
in the task, they were very much interested, and that, when it was
finished, though it was only the size of a lady’s handkerchief, they
manifested much delight.
Zanzibar possesses its “millionaires” also, and one of the richest
merchants in the town is Tarya Topan—a self-made man of Hindustan,
singularly honest and just; a devout Muslim, yet liberal in his ideas; a
sharp business man, yet charitable. I made Tarya’s acquaintance in 1871,
and the righteous manner in which he then dealt by me caused me now to
proceed to him again for the same purpose as formerly, viz. to sell me
cloth, cottons, and kanikis, at reasonable prices, and accept my bills
on Mr. Joseph M. Levy, of the _Daily Telegraph_.
Honest Jetta, as formerly, was employed as my vakeel to purchase the
various coloured cloths, fine and coarse, for chiefs and their wives, as
well as a large assortment of beads of all sizes, forms, and colours,
besides a large quantity of brass wire ⅙ inch in thickness.
[Illustration: TARYA TOPAN.]
The total weight of goods, cloth, beads, wire, stores, medicine,
bedding, clothes, tents, ammunition, boat, oars, rudder and thwarts,
instruments and stationery, photographic apparatus, dry plates, and
miscellaneous articles too numerous to mention, weighed a little over
18,000 lbs., or rather more than 8 tons divided as nearly as possible
into loads weighing 60 lbs. each, and requiring therefore the carrying
capacity of 300 men. The loads were made more than usually light, in
order that we might travel with celerity, and not fatigue the people.
But still further to provide against sickness and weakness, a
supernumerary force of forty men were recruited at Bagamoyo, Konduchi,
and the Rufiji delta, who were required to assemble in the neighbourhood
of the first-mentioned place. Two hundred and thirty men, consisting of
Wangwana, Wanyamwezi, and coast people from Mombasa, Tanga, and Saadani,
affixed their marks opposite their names before the American Consul, for
wages varying from 2 to 10 dollars per month, and rations according to
their capacity, strength, and intelligence, with the understanding that
they were to serve for two years, or until such time as their services
should be no longer required in Africa, and were to perform their duties
cheerfully and promptly.
On the day of “signing” the contract, each adult received an advance of
20 dollars, or four months’ pay, and each youth 10 dollars, or four
months’ pay. Ration money was also paid them from the time of first
enlistment, at the rate of 1 dollar per week, up to the day we left the
coast. These conditions were, however, not entered into without
requiring the presence of each person’s friends and relatives to witness
and sanction the engagements, so that on this day the parents, uncles,
cousins, and near and distant relatives, wives and children, were in
attendance, and crowded every room and court at the American Consulate.
The entire amount disbursed in cash for advances of pay and rations at
Zanzibar and Bagamoyo was 6260 dollars, or nearly £1300.
The obligations, however, were not all on one side. Besides the due
payment to them of their wages on demand, and selling them such cloths
as they would require for dress while in Africa at reasonable prices,
which would be a little above cost price at Zanzibar, I was compelled to
bind myself to them, on the word of an “honourable white man,” to
observe the following conditions as to conduct towards them:—
1st. That I should treat them kindly, and be patient with them.
2nd. That in case of sickness, I should dose them with proper medicine,
and see them nourished with the best the country afforded. That if
patients were unable to proceed, they should not be abandoned to the
mercy of heathen, but were to be conveyed to such places as should be
considered safe for their persons and their freedom, and convenient for
their return, on convalescence, to their friends. That with all patients
thus left behind, I should leave sufficient cloth or beads to pay the
native practitioner for his professional attendance, and for the support
of the patient.
3rd. That in cases of disagreement between man and man, I should judge
justly, honestly, and impartially. That I should do my utmost to prevent
the ill-treatment of the weak by the strong, and never permit the
oppression of those unable to resist.
4th. That I should act like a “father and mother” to them, and to the
best of my ability resist all violence offered to them by “savage
natives, and roving and lawless banditti.”
They also promised, upon the above conditions being fulfilled, that they
would do their duty like men, would honour and respect my instructions,
giving me their united support and endeavouring to the best of their
ability to be faithful servants, and would never desert me in the hour
of need. In short, that they would behave like good and loyal children,
and “may the blessing of God,” said they, “be upon us.”
How we kept this bond of mutual trust and forbearance, and adhered to
each other in the hours of sore trouble and distress, faithfully
performing our duties to one another: how we encouraged and sustained,
cheered and assisted one another, and in all the services and good
offices due from man to man, and comrade to comrade, from chief to
servants and from servants to chief, how we kept our plighted word of
promise, will be best seen in the following chapters, which record the
strange and eventful story of our journeys.
_Nov. 12._—The fleet of six Arab vessels which were to bear us away to
the west across the Zanzibar Sea were at last brought to anchor a few
yards from the wharf of the American Consulate. The day of farewell
calls had passed, and ceremoniously we had bidden adieu to the
hospitable and courteous Acting British Consul, Captain William F.
Prideaux, and his accomplished wife,[6] to friendly and amiable Dr.
James Robb and Mrs. Robb, to Dr. Riddle, and the German and French
Consuls. Seyyid Barghash bin Sayid received my thanks for his courtesy,
and his never-failing kindness, and my sincere wishes for his lasting
prosperity and happiness. Many kind Arab and Hindi friends also received
my parting salaams. Grave Sheikh Hashid expressed a hope that we should
meet again on earth, Captain Bukhet, the pilot, wished me a quick and
safe return from the dread lands of the heathen, and the princely Indian
merchant, Tarya Topan, expressed his sincere hopes that I should be
prosperous in my undertaking, and come back crowned with success.
The young Englishmen, whose charming, simple manners and manly bearing
had won for them a number of true friends at Zanzibar, were not without
many hearty well-wishers, and received cheerful farewells from numerous
friends.
At the end of Ramadan, the month of abstinence of Mohammedans, the
Wangwana, true to their promise that they would be ready, appeared with
their bundles and mats, and proceeded to take their places in the
vessels waiting for them. As their friends had mustered in strong force
to take their final parting and bestow last useful hints and prudent
advice, it was impossible to distinguish among the miscellaneous crowd
on the beach those who were present, or to discover who were absent. The
greater part of my company were in high spirits, and from this I
inferred that they had not forgotten to fortify themselves with
stimulants against the critical moment of departure.
As fast as each dhow was reported to be filled, the _Nakhuda_ or Captain
was directed to anchor further off shore to await the signal to sail. By
5 P.M. of the 12th of November, 224 men had responded to their names,
and five of the Arab vessels, laden with the _personnel_, cattle, and
_matériel_ of the expedition, were impatiently waiting with anchor
heaved short, the word of command. One vessel still lay close ashore, to
convey myself, and Frederick Barker—in charge of the personal servants—
our baggage, and dogs. Turning round to my constant and well-tried
friend, Mr. Augustus Sparhawk, I fervently clasped his hand, and with a
full heart though halting tongue, attempted to pour out my feelings of
gratitude for his kindness and long sustained hospitality, my keen
regret at parting and hopes of meeting again. But I was too agitated to
be eloquent, and all my forced gaiety could not carry me through the
ordeal. So we parted in almost total silence, but I felt assured that he
would judge my emotions by his own feelings, and would accept the lame
efforts at their expression as though he had listened to the most
voluble rehearsal of thanks.
A wave of my hand, and the anchors were hove up and laid within ship,
and then, hoisting our lateen sails, we bore away westward to launch
ourselves into the arms of Fortune. Many wavings of kerchiefs and hats,
parting signals from white hands, and last long looks at friendly
white faces, final confused impressions of the grouped figures of
our well-wishers, and then the evening breeze had swept us away into
mid-sea beyond reach of recognition.
The parting is over! We have said our last words for years, perhaps for
ever, to kindly men! The sun sinks fast to the western horizon, and
gloomy is the twilight that now deepens and darkens. Thick shadows fall
upon the distant land and over the silent sea, and oppress our
throbbing, regretful hearts, as we glide away through the dying light
towards The Dark Continent.
[Illustration: “TOWARDS THE DARK CONTINENT.”]
-----
# 5:
“Master.”
# 6:
No lady was ever more universally respected at Zanzibar than Mrs.
Prideaux, and no death ever more sincerely regretted by the European
community than was hers.
CHAPTER IV.
Bagamoyo—Taming the dark brother—Bagamoyo in a ferment—An exciting
scene—The disturbance quelled—The Universities Mission, its origin,
history, decline and present condition—The Rev. Edward Steere—Notre
Dame de Bagamoyo—Westward ho!—In marching order—_Sub Jove fervido_—
Crossing the Kingani—The stolen women.
Bagamoyo, Whindi, and Saadani, East African villages on the mainland
near the sea, offer exceptionally good starting-points for the
unexplored interior, for many reasons. First. Because the explorers and
the people are strangers to one another, and a slight knowledge of their
power of mutual cohesion, habits, and relative influences, is desirable
before launching out into the wilds. Second. The natives of those
maritime villages are accustomed to have their normally languid and
peaceful life invaded and startled by the bustle of foreigners arriving
by sea and from the continent, Arab traders bound for the interior and
lengthy native caravans from Unyamwezi. Third. An expedition not fully
recruited to its necessary strength at Zanzibar may be easily reinforced
at these ports by volunteers from native caravans who are desirous of
returning to their homes, and who, day by day, along the route, will
straggle in towards it until the list is full and complete.
These, then, were the principal reasons for my selection of Bagamoyo as
the initial point, from whence, after inoculating the various untamed
spirits who had now enlisted under me, with a respect for order and
discipline, obedience and system (the true prophylactic against failure)
I should be free to rove where discoveries would be fruitful. This
“inoculation” will not, however, commence until after a study of their
natures, their deficiencies and weaknesses. The exhibition of force, at
this juncture, would be dangerous to our prospects, and all means
gentle, patient, and persuasive, have, therefore, to be tried first.
Whatever deficiencies, weaknesses, and foibles the people may develop
must be so manipulated that, while they are learning the novel lesson of
obedience, they may only just suspect that behind all this there lies
the strong unbending force which will eventually make men of them, wild
things though they now are. For the first few months, then, forbearance
is absolutely necessary. The dark brother, wild as a colt, chafing,
restless, ferociously impulsive, superstitiously timid, liable to
furious demonstrations, suspicious and unreasonable, must be forgiven
seventy times seven, until the period of probation is passed. Long
before this period is over, such temperate conduct will have enlisted a
powerful force, attached to their leader by bonds of good-will and
respect, even, perhaps, of love and devotion, and by the moral influence
of their support even the most incorrigible _mauvais sujet_ will be
restrained, and finally conquered.
Many things will transpire during the first few weeks which will make
the explorer sigh and wish that he had not ventured upon what promises
to be a hopeless task. Maddened by strong drinks and drugs, jealous of
their status in the camp, regretting also, like ourselves, that they had
been so hasty in undertaking the journey, brooding over the joys of the
island fast receding from them, anxious for the future, susceptible to
the first and every influence that assails them with temptations to
return to the coast, these people require to be treated with the utmost
kindness and consideration, and the intending traveller must be wisely
circumspect in his intercourse with them. From my former experiences of
such men, it will be readily believed that I had prepared for the scenes
which I knew were to follow at Bagamoyo, and that all my precautions had
been taken.
_Nov. 13._—Upon landing at Bagamoyo on the morning of the 13th, we
marched to occupy the old house where we had stayed so long to prepare
the First Expedition. The goods were stored, the dogs chained up, the
riding asses tethered, the rifles arrayed in the store-room, and the
sectional boat laid under a roof close by, on rollers, to prevent injury
from the white ants—a precaution which, I need hardly say, we had to
observe throughout our journey. Then some more ration money, sufficient
for ten days, had to be distributed among the men, the young Pococks
were told off to various camp duties to initiate them to exploring life
in Africa, and then, after the first confusion of arrival had subsided,
I began to muster the new _engagés_.
But within three hours Bagamoyo was in a ferment. “The white man has
brought all the robbers, ruffians, and murderers of Zanzibar to take
possession of the town,” was the rumour that ran wildly through all the
streets, lanes, courts, and bazaars. Men with bloody faces, wild,
bloodshot eyes, bedraggled, rumpled and torn dresses, reeled up to our
orderly and nearly silent quarters clamouring for rifles and ammunition.
Arabs with drawn swords, and sinewy Baluchis with matchlocks and tinder
ready to be ignited, came up threatening, and, following them, a
miscellaneous rabble of excited men, while, in the background, seethed a
mob of frantic women and mischievous children.
“What is the matter?” I asked, scarcely knowing how to begin to calm
this turbulent mass of passionate beings.
“Matter!” was echoed. “What is the matter?” was repeated. “Matter
enough. The town is in an uproar. Your men are stealing, murdering,
robbing goods from the stores, breaking plates, killing our chickens,
assaulting everybody, drawing knives on our women after abusing them,
and threatening to burn the town and exterminate everybody. Matter
indeed! matter enough! What do you mean by bringing this savage rabble
from Zanzibar?” So fumed and sputtered an Arab of some consequence among
the magnates of Bagamoyo.
“Dear me, my friend, this is shocking; terrible. Pray sit down, and be
patient. Sit down here by me, and let us talk this over like wise men,”
I said in soothing tones to this _enfant terrible_, for he really looked
in feature, dress, and demeanour, what, had I been an imaginative raw
youth, I should have set down as the “incarnate scourge of Africa,” and
he looked wicked enough with his bare, sinewy arms, his brandished
sword, and fierce black eyes, to chop off my innocent head.
The Arab, with a short nod, accepted my proposition and seated himself.
“We are about to have a _Shauri_—a consultation.” “Hush there! Silence!”
“Words!” “Shauri!” “Words—open your ears!” “Slaves!” “Fools!” “List,
Arabs!” “You Baluch there, rein in your tongue!” &c. &c., cried out a
wild mixture of voices in a strange mixture of tongues, commanding, or
imploring, silence.
The Arab was requested to speak, and to point out, if he knew them, the
Wangwana guilty of provoking such astonishing disorder. In an indignant
and eloquent strain he rehearsed his special complaint. A man named
Mustapha had come to his shop drunk, and had abused him like a low
blackguard, and then, snatching up a bolt of cotton cloth, had run away
with it, but, being pursued and caught, had drawn a knife, and was about
to stab him, when a friend of his opportunely clubbed the miscreant and
thus saved his life. By the mouths of several witnesses the complaint
was proved, and Mustapha was therefore arrested, disarmed of his knife,
and locked up in the dark strong-room, to reflect on his crimes in
solitude. Loud approval greeted the sentence.
“Who else?”
A score of people of both sexes advanced towards me with their
complaints, and it seemed as though silence could never be restored, but
by dint of threatening to leave the burzah from sheer despair, quietness
was restored. It is unnecessary to detail the several charges made
against them, or to describe the manner of conviction, but, after three
hours, peace reigned in Bagamoyo once more, and over twenty of the
Wangwana had been secured and impounded in the several rooms of the
house, with a dozen of their comrades standing guard over them.
To avoid a repetition of this terrible scene, I despatched a messenger
with a polite request to the Governor, Sheikh Mansur bin Suliman, that
he would arrest and punish all disorderly Wangwana in my service, as
justice should require, but I am sorry to say that the Wali (governor)
took such advantage of this request that few of the Wangwana who showed
their faces in the streets next day escaped violence. Acting on the
principle that desperate diseases require desperate remedies, over
thirty had been chained and beaten, and many others had escaped abuse of
power only by desperate flight from the myrmidons of the now vengeful
sheikh.
Another message was therefore sent to the Governor, imploring him to be
as lenient as possible, consistent with equitable justice, and
explaining to him the nature and cause of these frantic moods and
ebullitions of temper on the part of the Wangwana. I attempted to define
to him what “sprees” were, explaining that all men, about to undergo a
long absence from their friends and country, thought they were entitled
to greater freedom at such a period, but that some weak-headed men, with
a natural inclination to be vicious, had, in indulging this privilege,
encroached upon the privileges of others, and that hence arose collision
and confusion. But the Governor waxed still more tyrannical: beatings,
chainings, and extortionate exactions became more frequent and
unbearable, until at last the Wangwana appeared in a body before me, and
demanded another “Shauri.”
The result of this long consultation—after an earnest protest from me
against their wild conduct, calculated, as I told them, to seriously
compromise me, followed by expostulation with them on their evil course,
and a warning that I felt more like abetting the Governor in his
treatment of them than seeking its amelioration—was an injunction to be
patient and well-behaved during our short stay, and a promise that I
would lead them into Africa within two days, when at the first camp
pardon should be extended to all, and a new life would be begun in
mutual peace and concord, to continue, I hoped, until our return to the
sea.
There is an institution at Bagamoyo which ought not to be passed over
without remark, but the subject cannot be properly dealt with until I
have described the similar institution, of equal importance, at
Zanzibar, viz. the Universities Mission. Besides, I have three pupils of
the Universities Mission who are about to accompany me into Africa—
Robert Feruzi, Andrew, and Dallington. Robert is a stout lad of eighteen
years old, formerly a servant to one of the members of Lieutenant
Cameron’s Expedition, but discharged at Unyanyembé, for not very clear
reasons, to find his way back. Andrew is a strong youth of nineteen
years, rather reserved, and, I should say, not of a very bright
disposition. Dallington is much younger, probably only fifteen, with a
face strongly pitted with traces of a violent attack of small-pox, but
as bright and intelligent as any boy of his age, white or black.
The Universities Mission is the result of the sensation caused in
England by Livingstone’s discoveries on the Zambezi and of Lakes Nyassa
and Shirwa. It was despatched by the Universities of Oxford and
Cambridge in the year 1860, and consisted of Bishop Mackenzie, formerly
Archdeacon of Natal, and the Rev. Messrs. Proctor, Scudamore, Burrup,
and Rowley. These devoted gentlemen reached the Zambezi river in
February 1861.
When the Universities Mission met Livingstone, then engaged in the
practical work of developing the discovery of the Zambezi and other
neighbouring waters, a consultation was held as to the best locality for
mission work to begin at. The Bishop and his followers were advised by
Livingstone to ascend the Rovuma river, and march thence overland to
some selected spot on Lake Nyassa. But, upon attempting the project, the
river was discovered to be falling, and too shallow to admit of such a
steamer as the _Pioneer_, and as much sickness had broken out on board,
the Mission sailed to the Comoro Islands to recruit. In July 1861 they
reached the foot of the Murchison Cataracts on the Shiré. Soon after,
while proceeding overland, they encountered a caravan of slaves, whom
they liberated, with a zeal that was commendable though impolitic.
Subsequently, other slaves were forcibly detained from the caravans
until the number collected amounted to 148, and with these the
missionaries determined to begin their holy work.
While establishing its quarters at Magomero, the Mission was attacked by
the Ajawas, but the reverend gentlemen and their pupils drove off the
enemy. Shortly after this, a difference of opinion arising with
Livingstone as to the proper policy to be pursued, the latter departed
to pursue his explorations, and the Bishop and his party continued to
prosecute their work with every promise of success. But in its zeal for
the suppression of the slave-trade, the Mission made alliance with the
Manganjas, and joined with them in a war against the Ajawas, whom they
afterwards discovered to be really a peaceable people. Thus was the
character of the Mission almost changed by the complicated politics of
the native tribes in which they had meddled without forethought of the
consequences. Then came the rainy season with its unhealthiness and
fatal results. Worn out with fever and privations, poor Bishop Mackenzie
died, and in less than a month the Rev. Mr. Burrup followed him. Messrs.
Scudamore, Dickinson, and Rowley removed the Mission to the banks of the
Shiré, where the two former died, and the few remaining survivors,
despairing of success, soon left the country, and the Universities
Mission to Central Africa became only a name with which the succeeding
Bishop, the Rev. Mr. Tozer, continued to denominate his Mission at
Zanzibar.
Nor is the record of this hitherto unfortunate and struggling Mission in
the city of Zanzibar, with access to luxuries and comforts, brighter or
more assuring than it was at primitive Magomero, surrounded by leagues
of fen and morass. Many noble souls of both sexes perished, and the good
work seemed far from hopeful. I am reminded, as I write these words, of
my personal acquaintance with the venerable figure of Pennell, and the
young and ardent West. The latter was alive in 1874, full of ardour,
hope, and zealous devotion. When I returned, he had gone the way of his
brother martyrs of the Zambezi.
[Illustration:
UNIVERSITIES MISSION AT KANGANI, ZANZIBAR.
(_From a photograph by Mr. Buchanan, of Natal._)
]
Almost single-handed remains the Rev. Edward Steere, faithful to his
post as Bishop and Chief Pastor. He has visited Lake Nyassa, and
established a Mission halfway, and another I believe at Lindi; he keeps
a watchful eye upon the operations of the Mission House established
among the Shambalas; and at the headquarters or home at Kangani, a few
miles east of Shangani Point, the old residence, he superintends, and
instructs lads and young men as printers, carpenters, blacksmiths, and
in the practical knowledge of other useful trades. His quarters
represent almost every industrial trade useful in life as occupations
for members of the lower classes, and are in the truest sense an
industrial and religious establishment for the moral and material
welfare of a class of unfortunates who deserve our utmost assistance and
sympathy. This extraordinary man, endowed with piety as fervid as ever
animated a martyr, looms grander and greater in the imagination as we
think of him as the one man who appears to have possessed the faculties
and gifts necessary to lift this Mission, with its gloomy history, into
the new life upon which it has now entered. With all my soul I wish him
and it success, and while he lives, provided he is supported, there need
be no fear that the Mission will resume that hopeless position from
which he, and he alone, appears to have rescued it.
From the same source that the Universities Missions have drawn their
pupils, namely, the youthful victims of the slave-trade, her Majesty’s
Consul has supplied to a great extent the French Catholic Missions at
Zanzibar and Bagamoyo. The Mission in the island which has now been
established for years is called the St. Joseph’s, that at Bagamoyo bears
the title of “Notre Dame de Bagamoyo.” The first possesses two priests
and four brothers, with one lay professor of music; the other, which is
the principal one, consists of four priests, eight brothers, and twelve
sisters, with ten lay brothers employed in teaching agriculture. The
French fathers superintend the tuition of 250 children, and give
employment to about 80 adults; 170 freed slaves were furnished from the
slave-captures made by British cruisers. They are taught to earn their
own living as soon as they arrive of age, are furnished with comfortable
lodgings, clothing, and household utensils.
“Notre Dame de Bagamoyo” is situated about a mile and a half north of
Bagamoyo, overlooking the sea, which washes the shores just at the base
of the tolerably high ground on which the mission buildings stand.
Thrift, order, and that peculiar style of neatness common to the French
are its characteristics. The cocoa-nut palm, orange, and mango flourish
in this pious settlement, while a variety of garden vegetables and grain
are cultivated in the fields; and broad roads, cleanly kept, traverse
the estate. During the Superior’s last visit to France he obtained a
considerable sum for the support of the Mission, and he has lately,
during my absence in Africa, established a branch mission at Kidudwe. It
is evident that, if supported constantly by his friends in France, the
Superior will extend his work still farther into the interior, and it
is, therefore, safe to predict that the road to Ujiji will in time
possess a chain of mission stations affording the future European trader
and traveller safe retreats with the conveniences of civilized life.
There are two other missions on the east coast of Africa, that of the
Church Missionary Society, and the Methodist Free Church at Mombasa. The
former has occupied this station for over thirty years, and has a branch
establishment at Rabbai Mpia, the home of the Dutch missionaries, Krapf,
Rebmann, and Erhardt. But these missions have not obtained the success
which such long self-abnegation and devotion to the pious service
deserved.
It is strange how British philanthropists, clerical and lay, persist in
the delusion that the Africans can be satisfied with spiritual
improvement only. They should endeavour to impress themselves with the
undeniable fact that man, white, yellow, red or black, has also material
wants which crave to be understood and supplied. A barbarous man is a
pure materialist. He is full of cravings for possessing something that
he cannot describe. He is like a child which has not yet acquired the
faculty of articulation. The missionary discovers the barbarian almost
stupefied with brutish ignorance, with the instincts of a man in him,
but yet living the life of a beast. Instead of attempting to develop the
qualities of this practical human being, he instantly attempts his
transformation by expounding to him the dogmas of the Christian Faith,
the doctrine of transubstantiation and other difficult subjects, before
the barbarian has had time to articulate his necessities and to explain
to him that he is a frail creature requiring to be fed with bread, and
not with a stone.
My experience and study of the pagan prove to me, however, that if the
missionary can show the poor materialist that religion is allied with
substantial benefits and improvement of his degraded condition, the task
to which he is about to devote himself will be rendered comparatively
easy. For the African once brought in contact with the European becomes
docile enough; he is awed by a consciousness of his own immense
inferiority, and imbued with a vague hope that he may also rise in time
to the level of this superior being who has so challenged his
admiration. It is the story of Caliban and Stefano over again. He comes
to him with a desire to be taught and, seized with an ambition to aspire
to a higher life, becomes docile and tractable, but to his surprise he
perceives himself mocked by this being who talks to him about matters
that he despairs of ever understanding, and therefore with abashed face
and a still deeper sense of his inferiority, he retires to his den,
cavern, or hut with a dogged determination to be contented with the
brutish life he was born in.
_Nov. 17._—On the morning of the 17th of November, 1874, the first
bold step for the interior was taken. The bugle mustered the people to
rank themselves before our quarters, and each man’s load was given to
him according as we judged his power of bearing burthen. To the man of
strong sturdy make, with a large development of muscle, the cloth bale
of 60 lbs. was given, which would in a couple of months by constant
expenditure be reduced to 50 lbs., in six months perhaps to 40 lbs.,
and in a year to about 30 lbs., provided that all his comrades were
faithful to their duties; to the short compactly formed man, the bead
sack of 50 lbs. weight; to the light youth of eighteen or twenty years
old, the box of 40 lbs., containing stores, ammunition, and sundries.
To the steady, respectable, grave-looking men of advanced years, the
scientific instruments, thermometers, barometers, watches, sextant,
mercury bottles, compasses, pedometers, photographic apparatus,
dry plates, stationery, and scientific books, all packed in 40-lb.
cases, were distributed; while the man most highly recommended for
steadiness and most cautious tread was entrusted with the carriage
of the three chronometers which were stowed in balls of cotton, in a
light case weighing not more than 25 lbs. The twelve Kirangozis, or
guides, tricked out this day in flowing robes of crimson blanket cloth,
demanded the privilege of conveying the several loads of brass wire
coils, and as they form the second advance guard, and are active, bold
youths—some of whom are to be hereafter known as the boat’s crew, and
to be distinguished by me above all others, except the chiefs—they
are armed with Snider rifles, with their respective accoutrements.
The boat-carriers are herculean in figure and strength, for they are
practised bearers of loads, having resigned their ignoble profession
of hamal in Zanzibar to carry sections of the first European-made boat
that ever floated on Lakes Victoria and Tanganika and the extreme
sources of the Nile and the Livingstone. To each section of the boat
there are four men, to relieve one another in couples. They get higher
pay than even the chiefs, except the chief captain, Manwa Sera,
and, besides receiving double rations, have the privilege of taking
their wives along with them. There are six riding asses also in the
expedition, all saddled, one for each of the Europeans—the two Pococks,
Barker, and myself—and two for the sick: for the latter there are
also three of Seydel’s net hammocks, with six men to act as a kind of
ambulance party.
[Illustration:
WIFE OF MANWA SERA.
(_From a photograph._)
]
Though we have not yet received our full complement of men, necessity
compels us to move from the vicinity of the Goanese liquor shops, and
from under the severe authority of Sheikh Mansur bin Suliman, whose
views of justice would soon demoralize any expedition. Accordingly
at 9 A.M. of the 17th, five days after leaving Zanzibar, we filed
out from the town, receiving some complimentary and not a few
uncomplimentary parting words from the inhabitants, male and female,
who are out in strong force to view the procession as follows: Four
chiefs a few hundred yards in front; next the twelve guides clad
in red robes of Joho, bearing the wire coils; then a long file 270
strong, bearing cloth, wire, beads, and sections of the _Lady Alice_;
after them thirty-six women and ten boys, children of some of the
chiefs and boat-bearers, following their mothers and assisting them
with trifling loads of utensils, followed by the riding asses,
Europeans and gun-bearers; the long line closed by sixteen chiefs who
act as rear-guard, and whose duties are to pick up stragglers, and
act as supernumeraries until other men can be procured: in all 356
souls connected with the Anglo-American Expedition. The lengthy line
occupies nearly half a mile of the path which at the present day is the
commercial and exploring highway into the Lake regions.
Edward Pocock is kind enough to act as bugler, because from long
practice at the military camps at Aldershot and Chatham he understands
the signals. He has familiarized Hamadi, the chief guide, with its
notes, so that in case of a halt being required, Hamadi may be informed
immediately. The chief guide is also armed with a prodigiously long horn
of ivory, his favourite instrument, and one that belongs to his
profession, which he has permission to use only when approaching a
suitable camping-place, or to notify to us danger in the front. Before
Hamadi strides a chubby little boy with a native drum, which is to beat
only when in the neighbourhood of villages, to warn them of the advance
of a caravan, a caution most requisite, for many villages are scattered
in the midst of a dense jungle, and the sudden arrival of a large force
of strangers before they had time to hide their little belongings might
awake jealousy and distrust.
In this manner we begin our long journey, full of hopes. There is noise
and laughter along the ranks, and a hum of gay voices murmuring through
the fields, as we rise and descend with the waves of the land and wind
with the sinuosities of the path. Motion had restored us all to a sense
of satisfaction. We had an intensely bright and fervid sun shining above
us, the path was dry, hard, and admirably fit for travel, and during the
commencement of our first march nothing could be conceived in better
order than the lengthy thin column about to confront the wilderness.
Presently, however, the fervour of the dazzling sun grows overpowering
as we descend into the valley of the Kingani river. The ranks become
broken and disordered; stragglers are many; the men complain of the
terrible heat; the dogs pant in agony. Even we ourselves under our solar
topees, with flushed faces and perspiring brows, with handkerchiefs ever
in use to wipe away the drops which almost blind us, and our heavy
woollens giving us a feeling of semi-asphyxiation, would fain rest, were
it not that the sun-bleached levels of the tawny, thirsty valley offer
no inducements. The veterans of travel push on towards the river three
miles distant, where they may obtain rest and shelter, but the
inexperienced are lying prostrate on the ground, exclaiming against the
heat, and crying for water, bewailing their folly in leaving Zanzibar.
We stop to tell them to rest a while, and then to come on to the river,
where they will find us; we advise, encourage, and console the irritated
people as best we can, and tell them that it is only the commencement of
a journey that is so hard, that all this pain and weariness are always
felt by beginners, but that by-and-by it is shaken off, and that those
who are steadfast emerge out of the struggle heroes.
Frank and his brother Edward, despatched to the ferry at the beginning
of these delays, have now got the sectional boat _Lady Alice_ all ready,
and the ferrying of men, goods, asses, and dogs across the Kingani is
prosecuted with vigour, and at 3.30 P.M. the boat is again in pieces,
slung on the bearing poles, and the Expedition has resumed its journey
to Kikoka, the first halting-place.
But before we reach camp, we have acquired a fair idea as to how many of
our people are staunch and capable, and how many are too feeble to
endure the fatigues of bearing loads. The magnificent prize mastiff dog
“Castor” died of heat apoplexy, within two miles of Kikoka, and the
other mastiff, “Captain,” seems likely to follow soon, and only “Nero,”
“Bull,” and “Jack,” though prostrate and breathing hard, show any signs
of life.
_Nov. 18._—At Kikoka, then, we rest the next day. We discharge two men,
who have been taken seriously ill, and several new recruits, who arrive
at camp during the night preceding and this day, are engaged.
There are several reasons which can be given, besides heat of the
Tropics and inexperience, for the quick collapse of many of the Wangwana
on the first march, and the steadiness evinced by the native carriers
confirms them. The Wangwana lead very impure lives on the island, and
with the importation of opium by the Banyans and Hindis, the Wangwana
and many Arabs have acquired the vicious habit of eating this drug.
Chewing betel-nut with lime is another uncleanly and disgusting habit,
and one that can hardly benefit the _morale_ of a man; while certainly
most deleterious to the physical powers is the almost universal habit of
vehemently inhaling the smoke of the _Cannabis sativa_, or wild hemp. In
a light atmosphere, such as we have in hot days in the Tropics, with the
thermometer rising to 140° Fahr. in the sun, these people, with lungs
and vitals injured by excessive indulgence in these destructive habits,
discover they have no physical stamina to sustain them. The rigour of a
march in a loaded caravan soon tells upon their weakened powers, and one
by one they drop from the ranks, betraying their impotence and
infirmities.
During the afternoon of this day, as I was preparing my last letters, I
was rather astonished by a visit paid to my camp by a detachment of
Baluchi soldiers, the chief of whom bore a letter from the governor of
Bagamoyo—Mansur bin Suliman—wherein he complained that the Wangwana had
induced about fifteen women to abandon their masters, and requested me
to return them.
Upon mustering the people, and inquiring into their domestic affairs, it
was discovered that a number of women had indeed joined the Expedition
during the night. Some of them bore free papers given them by H.M.
Political Resident at Zanzibar, but nine were by their own confessions
runaways. After being hospitably received by the Sultan and the Arabs of
Zanzibar, it was no part of my duty, I considered, unauthorized as I was
by any Government, to be even a passive agent in this novel method of
liberating slaves. The order was therefore given that these women should
return with the soldiers, but as this did not agree with either the
views of the women or of their loving abductors, a determined opposition
was raised, which bore every appearance of soon culminating in
sanguinary strife. The men seized their Snider rifles and Tower muskets,
and cartridges, ramrods and locks were handled with looks which boded
mischief. Acting upon the principle that as chief of my own camp I had a
perfect right to exclude unbidden guests, I called out the “faithfuls”
of my first expedition, forty-seven in number, and ranked them on the
side of the Sultan’s soldiers, to prove to the infuriated men that, if
they fired, they must injure their own friends, brothers, and chiefs.
Frank Pocock also led a party of twenty in their rear, and then, closing
in on the malcontents, we disarmed them, and lashed their guns into
bundles, which were delivered up to the charge of Edward Pocock. A small
party of faithfuls was then ordered to escort the Sultan’s soldiers and
the women out of camp, lest some vengeful men should have formed an
ambuscade between our camp and the river.
From the details furnished in this and the two preceding chapters, a
tolerably correct idea may be gained by the intending traveller, trader,
or missionary in these lands, of the proper method of organization, as
well as the quality and nature of the men whom he will lead, the manner
of preparation and the proportion of articles to be purchased.
As there are so many subjects to be touched upon along the seven
thousand miles of explored lines, I propose to be brief with the
incidents and descriptive sketches of our route to Ituru, because the
country for two-thirds of the way has been sufficiently described in
‘How I found Livingstone.’
[Illustration:
THE EXPEDITION AT ROSAKO.
(_From a photograph._)
]
CHAPTER V.
On the March—Congorido to Rubuti—The hunting-grounds of Kitangeh—
Shooting zebra—“Jack’s” first prize—Interviewed by lions—Geology of
Mpwapwa—Dudoma—“The flood-gates of heaven” opened—Dismal reflections—
The Salina—A conspiracy discovered—Desertions—The path lost—Starvation
and deaths—Trouble imminent—Grain huts plundered—Situation deplorable—
Sickness in the camp—Edward Pocock taken ill—His death and funeral.
The line of march towards the interior, which, after due consideration,
we adopted, runs parallel to the routes known to us, by the writings of
many travellers, but extends as far as thirty miles north of the most
northerly of them.
At Rosako the route began to diverge from that which led to Msuwa and
Simba-Mwenni, and opened out on a stretch of beautiful park land, green
as an English lawn, dipping into lovely vales, and rising into gentle
ridges. Thin, shallow threads of water in furrow-like beds or in deep
narrow ditches, which expose the sandstone strata on which the fat
ochreous soil rests, run in mazy curves round forest clumps, or through
jungle tangles, and wind about among the higher elevations, on their way
towards the Wami river.
_Nov. 23._—On the 23rd, we halted at the base of one of the three cones
of Pongwé, at a village situated at an altitude of 900 feet above the
sea. The lesser Pongwé cone rises about 800 feet higher than the
village, and the greater probably 1200 feet. The pedometers marked
forty-six miles from Bagamoyo.
Congorido, a populous village, was reached on the 24th. From my hut, the
Pongwé hills were in clear view. The stockade was newly built, and was a
good defensive enclosure. The drinking-water was brackish, but after
long search, something more potable was discovered a short distance to
the south-east.
Mfuteh, the next village, was another strong, newly enclosed
construction after the pattern of the architecture of Unyamwezi. The
baobab, at this height, began to flourish, and in the depressions of the
land the doum, borassus, and fan-palm were very numerous. The soil
westward of Congorido, I observed, contains considerable alkali, and it
is probable that this substance is favourable to the growth of palms.
The villagers are timid and suspicious. Lions are reported to abound
towards the north.
Westward of Mfuteh we travelled along the right or southern bank of the
Wami for about four miles. Its banks are fringed with umbrageous wooded
borders, and beyond these extends an interesting country. The colossal
peak of Kidudu rears its lofty crown to a great height, and forms a
conspicuous landmark, towering above its less sublime neighbours of
Nguru, about fifteen or twenty miles north of the Wami’s course.
_Nov. 29._—From Mfuteh to Rubuti, a village on the Lugumbwa creek, which
we reached on the 29th, game is numerous, but the landscape differs
little from that described above. We crossed the Wami three times in one
march, the fords being only 2½ feet deep. Granite boulders protruded
above the surface, and the boiling points at one of the fords showed a
considerable height above the sea. At one of the fords there was a
curious suspension bridge over the river, constructed of llianes with
great ingenuity by the natives. The banks were at this point 16 feet
high above the river, and from bank to bank the distance was only 30
yards: it was evident, therefore, that the river must be a dangerous
torrent during the rainy season.
The road thence, skirting a range of mountains, leads across numerous
watercourses and some very clear rivers—one, the Mkindo, near Mvomero,
being a beautiful stream, and the water of which I thought very
invigorating. I certainly imagined I felt in excellent spirits the whole
of the day after I had taken a deep draught of it.
_Dec. 3._—On the 3rd of December we came to the Mkundi river, a
tributary of the Wami, which divides Nguru country from Usagara.
Simba-Mwenni, or Simba-Miunyi—the Lion Lord—not the famous man farther
south—owns five villages in this neighbourhood. He was generous,
and gratified us with a gift of a sheep, some flour, and plantains,
accepting with pleasure some cloth in return.
The Wa-Nguru speak the same dialect as the Waseguhha and Wasagara, and
affect the same ornaments, being fond of black and white beads and brass
wire. They split the lobes of their ears, and introduce such curious
things as the necks of gourds or round discs of wood to extend the gash.
A medley of strange things are worn round the neck, such as tiny goats’
horns, small brass chains, and large egg-like beads. Blue Kanika and the
red-barred Barsati are the favourite cloths in this region. The natives
dye their faces with ochre, and, probably influenced by the example of
Wanyamwezi, dress their hair in long ringlets, which are adorned with
pendicles of copper, or white or red beads of the large Sam-sam pattern.
_Dec. 4._—Grand and impressive scenery meets the eye as we march to
Makubika, the next settlement, where we attain an altitude of 2675 feet
above the ocean. Peaks and knolls rise in all directions, for we are now
ascending to the eastern front of the Kaguru mountains. The summits of
Ukamba are seen to the north, its slopes famous for the multitude of
elephants. The mountain characteristically called the “Back of the Bow”
has a small, clear lake near it, and remarkable peaks or mountain crests
break the sky line on every side. Indeed, some parts of this great
mountain range abound in scenery both picturesque and sublime.
Between Mamboya and Kitangeh, I was much struck by the resemblance that
many of the scenes bear to others that I had seen in the Alleghanies.
Water is abundant, flowing clear as crystal from numerous sources. As we
neared Eastern Kitangeh, villages were beheld dotted over every hill,
the inhabitants of which, so often frightened by inroads of the ever
marauding Wamasai, have been rendered very timid. Here, for the first
time, cattle were observed as we travelled westerly from Bagamoyo.
By a gradual ascent from the fine pastoral basin of Kitangeh, we reached
the spine of a hill at 4490 feet, and beheld an extensive plain,
stretching north-west and west, with browsing herds of noble game.
Camping on its verge, between a lumpy hill and some rocky knolls, near a
beautiful pond of crystal-clear water, I proceeded with my gun-bearer,
Billali, and the notorious Msenna, in the hope of bringing down
something for the Wangwana, and was heartily encouraged thereto by Frank
and Ted Pocock.
[Illustration: VIEW FROM THE VILLAGE OF MAMBOYA.]
The plain was broader than I had judged it by the eye from the crest of
the hill whence we had first sighted it. It was not until we had walked
briskly over a long stretch of tawny grass, crushed by sheer force
through a brambly jungle, and trampled down a path through clumps of
slender cane stalks, that we came at last in view of a small herd of
zebras. These animals are so quick of scent and ear, and so vigilant
with their eyes, that, across an open space, it is most difficult to
stalk them. But by dint of tremendous exertion, I contrived to approach
to within 250 yards, taking advantage of every thin tussock of grass,
and, almost at random, fired. One of the herd leaped from the ground,
galloped a few short maddened strides, and then, on a sudden, staggered,
kneeled, trembled, and fell over, its legs kicking the air. Its
companions whinnied shrilly for their mate, and, presently wheeling in
circles with graceful motion, advanced nearer, still whinnying, until I
dropped another with a crushing ball through the head—much against my
wish, for I think zebras were created for better purpose than to be
eaten. The remnant of the herd vanished, and the bull-terrier “Jack,”
now unleashed, was in an instant glorying in his first strange prizes.
How the rogue plunged his teeth in their throats! with what ardour he
pinned them by the nose! and soon bathing himself in blood, he appeared
to be the very Dog of Murder, a miracle of rabid ferocity.
Billali, requested to run to camp to procure Wangwana to carry the meat
to camp, was only too happy, knowing what brave cheers and hearty
congratulations would greet him. Msenna was already busy skinning one of
the animals, some 300 yards from me; Jack was lying at my feet, watchful
of the dead zebra on which I was seated, and probably calculating, so I
supposed, how large a share would fall to him for his assistance in
seizing the noble quarry by the nose. I was fast becoming absorbed in a
mental picture of what might possibly lie behind the northern mountain
barrier of the plain, when Jack sprang up and looked southward. Turning
my head, I made out the form of some tawny animal, that was advancing
with a curious long step, and I recognised it to be a lion. I motioned
to Msenna, who happened to be looking up, and beckoned him. “What do you
think it is, Msenna?” I asked. “Simba (a lion), master,” he answered.
Finding my own suspicions verified, we both lay down, and prepared our
rifles. Two explosive bullets were slipped into an elephant rifle, and I
felt sure with the perfect rest which the body of the zebra gave for the
rifle, that I could drop anything living larger than a cat at the
distance of 100 yards; so I awaited his approach with composure. The
animal advanced to within 300 yards, and then, giving a quick bound as
though surprised, stood still. Shortly afterwards, after a deliberate
survey, he turned sharp round and trotted off into a low shrubby jungle,
about 800 yards away. Ten minutes elapsed, and then as many animals
emerged from the same spot into which the other had disappeared, and
approached us in stately column. But it being now dusk, I could not
discern them very clearly. We both were, however, quite sure in our own
minds that they were lions, or at any rate some animals so like them in
the twilight that we could not imagine them to be anything else. When
the foremost had come within 100 yards, I fired. It sprang up and fell,
and the others disappeared with a dreadful rush. We now heard shouts
behind us, for the Wangwana had come; so, taking one or two with me, I
endeavoured to discover what I felt to be a prostrate lion, but it could
not be found. It occupied us some time to skin and divide our game, and
as the camp was far, we did not reach it until 9 P.M., when, of course,
we received a sincere welcome from people hungry for meat.
The next day Manwa Sera went out to hunt for the lion-skin, but returned
after a long search with only a strong doubt in his mind as to its
having been a lion, and a few reddish hairs to prove that it was
something which had been eaten by hyenas. This day I succeeded in
shooting a small antelope of the springbok kind.
_Dec. 11._—We crossed the plain on the 11th of December, and arrived at
Tubugwé. It is only six miles in width, but within this distance we
counted fourteen human skulls, the mournful relics of some unfortunate
travellers, slain by an attack of Wahumba from the north-west. I think
it is beyond doubt that this plain, extending, as it does, from the
unexplored north-west, and projecting like a bay into a deep mountain
fiord south-east of our road, must in former times have been an inlet or
creek of the great reservoir of which the Ugombo lake, south of here, is
a residuum. The bed of this ancient lake now forms the pastoral plains
of the Wahumba, and the broad plain-like expanses visible in the Ugogo
country.
Rounding the western extremity of a hilly range near the scene of our
adventures, we followed a valley till it sloped into a basin, and
finally narrowed to a ravine, along the bottom of which runs a small
brackish stream. A bed of rock-salt was discovered on the opposite side.
Two miles farther, at the base of a hilly cone, we arrived at a wooded
gully, where very clear and fresh water is found, and from which the
path runs west, gradually rising along the slope of a hill until it
terminates in a pass 3700 feet above sea-level, whence the basin of
Tubugwé appears in view, enclosing twenty-five square, stockaded
villages and many low hills, and patched with cultivated fields. A
gentle descent of about 400 feet brought us to our camp, on the banks of
a small tributary of the Mukondokwa.
[Illustration:
OUR CAMP AT MPWAPWA.
(_From a photograph._)
]
_Dec. 12._—On the 12th of December, twenty-five days’ march from
Bagamoyo, we arrived at Mpwapwa.
The region traversed from the eastern slopes of that broad range which
we began to skirt soon after passing to the left bank of the Wami river,
as far as Chunyu (a few miles west of Mpwapwa), comprises the extreme
breadth of the tract distinguished in the work, ‘How I found
Livingstone,’ as the Usagara mountains. The rocks are of the older
class, gneiss and schists, but in several localities granite protrudes,
besides humpy dykes of trap. From the brackish stream east of Tubugwé,
as far as Mpwapwa, there are also several dykes of a feldspathic rock,
notably one that overlooks the basin of Tubugwé. The various clear
streams coursing towards the Mukondokwa, as we dipped and rose over the
highest points of the mountains among which the path led us, reveal beds
of granite, shale, and rich porphyritic brown rock, while many loose
boulders of a granitic character lie strewn on each side, either
standing up half covered with clambering plants in precarious positions
upon a denuded base, or lying bare in the beds of the stream, exposed to
the action of the running water. Pebbles also, lodged on small shelves
of rock in the streams, borne thither by their force during rainy
seasons, attest the nature of the formations higher up their course.
Among these, we saw varieties of quartz, porphyry, green-stone, dark
grey shale, granite, hematite, and purple jasper, chalcedony, and other
gravels.
The rock-salt discovered has a large mass exposed to the action of the
stream. In its neighbourhood is a greyish tufa, also exposed, with a
brown mossy parasite running in threads over its face.
Wood is abundant in large clumps soon after passing Kikoka, and this
feature of the landscape obtains as far as Congorido. The Wami has a
narrow fringe of palms on either bank; while thinly scattered in the
plains and less fertile parts, a low scrubby brushwood, of the acacia
species, is also seen, but nowhere dense. Along the base and slopes of
the mountains, and in its deep valleys, large trees are very numerous,
massing, at times, even into forests. The extreme summits, however, are
clothed with only grass and small herbage.
Mpwapwa has also some fine trees, but no forest; the largest being the
tamarind, sycamore, cottonwood, and baobab. The collection of villages
denominated by this title lies widely scattered on either side of the
Mpwapwa stream, at the base of the southern slope of a range of
mountains that extends in a sinuous line from Chunyu to Ugombo. I call
it a range because it appeared to be one from Mpwapwa; but in reality it
is simply the northern flank of a deep indentation in the great mountain
chain that extends from Abyssinia, or even Suez, down to the Cape of
Good Hope. At the extreme eastern point of this indentation from the
western side lies Lake Ugombo, just twenty-four miles from Mpwapwa.
Desertions from the expedition had been frequent. At first, Kachéché,
the chief detective, and his gang of four men, who had received
their instructions to follow us a day’s journey behind, enabled me
to recapture sixteen of the deserters; but the cunning Wangwana
and Wanyamwezi soon discovered this resource of mine against their
well-known freaks, and, instead of striking east in their departure,
absconded either south or north of the track. We then had detectives
posted long before dawn, several hundred yards away from the camp,
who were bidden to lie in wait in the bush, until the expedition had
started, and in this manner we succeeded in repressing to some extent
the disposition to desert, and arrested very many men on the point of
escaping; but even this was not adequate. Fifty had abandoned us before
reaching Mpwapwa, taking with them the advances they had received, and
often their guns, on which our safety might depend.
Several feeble men and women also had to be left behind; and it was
evident that the very wariest methods failed to bind the people to their
duties. The best of treatment and abundance of provisions daily
distributed were alike insufficient to induce such faithless natures to
be loyal. However, we persisted, and as often as we failed in one way,
we tried another. Had all these men remained loyal to their contract and
promises, we should have been too strong for any force to attack us, as
our numbers must necessarily have commanded respect in lands and among
tribes where only power is respected.
One day’s march from Mpwapwa, the route skirting a broad arm of the
Marenga Mkali desert, which leads to the Ugombo lake, brought us to
Chunyu—an exposed and weak settlement, overlooking the desert or
wilderness separating Usagara from Ugogo. Close to our right towered the
Usagara mountains, and on our left stretched the inhospitable arm of the
wilderness. Fifteen or twenty miles distant to the south rose the vast
cluster of Rubeho’s cones and peaks.
The water at Chunyu is nitrous and bitter to the taste. The natives were
once prosperous, but repeated attacks from the Wahehé to the south and
the Wahumba to the north have reduced them in numbers, and compelled
them to seek refuge on the hill-summits.
_Dec. 16._—On the 16th of December, at early dawn, we struck camp, and
at an energetic pace descended into the wilderness, and at 7 P.M. the
vanguard of the expedition entered Ugogo, camping two or three miles
from the frontier village of Kikombo. The next day, at a more moderate
pace, we entered the populated district, and took shelter under a mighty
baobab a few hundred yards distant from the chief’s village.
The fields, now denuded of the dwarf acacia and gum jungle which is the
characteristic feature of the wilderness of Marenga Mkali and its
neighbourhood, gave us a clear view of a broad bleak plain, with nothing
to break its monotony to the jaundiced eye save a few solitary baobab,
some square wattled enclosures within which the inhabitants live, and an
occasional herd of cattle or flock of goats that obtain a poor
subsistence from the scanty herbage. A few rocky hills rise in the
distance on either hand.
Kikombo, or Chikombo, stands at an altitude by aneroid of 2475 feet. The
hills proved, as we afterwards ascertained on arriving at Itumbi, Sultan
Mpamira’s, to be the eastern horn of the watershed that divides the
streams flowing south to the Rufiji from those that trend north.
We march under a very hot sun to Mpamira’s village; and through the
double cover of the tent the heat at Itumbi rose to 96° Fahr. Within an
hour of our arrival, the sky, as usual in this season, became overcast,
the weather suddenly became cold, and the thermometer descended to 69°
Fahr., while startling claps of thunder echoed among the hills,
accompanied by vivid flashes of lightning. About three miles to the
south-west, we observed a thick fog, and knew that rain was falling, but
we only received a few drops. Half an hour later, a broad and dry sandy
stream-bed, in which we had commenced to dig for water, was transformed
into a swift torrent of 18 inches deep and 50 yards wide, the general
direction of which was north by east. Within two or three hours, there
were only a few gentle threads of water remaining; the torrent had
subsided as quickly as it had risen.
On our road to Leehumwa, we passed over a greyish calcareous tufa. On
either side of us rise hills bare of soil, presenting picturesque
summits, some of which are formed by upright masses of yellow feldspar,
coloured by the presence of iron and exposure to weather.
The next settlement, Dudoma, is situated on a level terrace to the north
of the hills which form the watershed, and from its base extends, to the
unknown north, the great plain of Uhumba, a dry, arid, and inhospitable
region, but covered with brushwood, and abandoned to elephants, lions,
large game, and intractable natives.
_Dec. 23._—The rainy season began in earnest on the 23rd of December,
while we halted at Dudoma, and next day we struggled through a pelting
storm, during an eight miles’ march to Zingeh, the plain of which we
found already half submerged by rushing yellow streams.
_Dec. 25._—The following sketch is a portion of a private letter to
a friend, written on Christmas Day at Zingeh: “I am in a centre-pole
tent, seven by eight. As it rained all day yesterday, the tent was set
over wet ground, which, by the passing in and out of the servants, was
soon trampled into a thick pasty mud bearing the traces of toes, heels,
shoe nails, and dogs’ paws. The tent walls are disfigured by large
splashes of mud, and the tent corners hang down limp and languid, and
there is such an air of forlornness and misery about its very set that
it increases my own misery, already great at the sight of the doughy
muddy ground with its puddlets and strange hieroglyphic traceries and
prints. I sit on a bed raised about a foot above the sludge, mournfully
reflecting on my condition. Outside, the people have evidently a fellow
feeling with me, for they appear to me like beings with strong suicidal
intentions or perhaps they mean to lie still, inert until death
relieves them. It has been raining heavily the last two or three days,
and an impetuous downpour of sheet rain has just ceased. On the march,
rain is very disagreeable; it makes the clayey path slippery, and the
loads heavier by being saturated, while it half ruins the cloths. It
makes us dispirited, wet, and cold, added to which we are hungry—for
there is a famine or scarcity of food at this season, and therefore we
can only procure half-rations. The native store of grain is consumed
during the months of May, June, July, August, September, October, and
November. By December, the planting month, there is but little grain
left, and for what we are able to procure, we must pay about ten times
the ordinary price. The natives, owing to improvidence, have but little
left. I myself have not had a piece of meat for ten days. My food is
boiled rice, tea, and coffee, and soon I shall be reduced to eating
native porridge, like my own people. I weighed 180 lbs. when I left
Zanzibar, but under this diet I have been reduced to 134 lbs. within
thirty-eight days. The young Englishmen are in the same impoverished
condition of body, and unless we reach some more flourishing country
than famine-stricken Ugogo, we must soon become mere skeletons.
“Besides the terribly wet weather and the scarcity of food from which we
suffer, we are compelled to undergo the tedious and wearisome task of
haggling with extortionate chiefs over the amount of black-mail which
they demand, and which we must pay. We are compelled, as you may
perceive, to draw heavy drafts on the virtues of prudence, patience, and
resignation, without which the transit of Ugogo, under such conditions
as above described, would be most perilous. Another of my dogs, ‘Nero,’
the retriever, is dead. Alas! all will die.”
_Dec. 26._—The next camp westward from Zingeh which we established was
at Jiweni, or the Stones, at an altitude above sea-level of 3150 feet;
crossing on our march three streams with a trend southerly to the
Rufiji. Formerly there had been a settlement here, but in one of the
raids of the Wahumba it had been swept away, leaving only such traces of
man’s occupation as broken pottery, and shallow troughs in the rocks
caused probably by generations of female grinders of corn.
Through a scrubby jungle, all of which in past times had been
cultivated, we marched from the “Stones” to Kitalalo, the chief of which
place became very friendly with me, and, to mark his delight at my
leading a caravan to his country—the first, he hoped, of many more—he
presented a fat ox to the Wangwana and Wanyamwezi.
The outskirts of Kitalalo are choked with growths of acacia, tamarisk,
and gum, while clusters of doum palms are numerous. Further west
stretches the broad plain of Mizanza and Mukondoku, with its deceitful
mirage, herbless and treeless expanse, and nitrous water.
One Somali youth, Mohammed, deserted just eastward of Kitalalo, and was
never afterwards heard of.
_Dec. 29._—Early on the 29th of December, guided by Kitalalo’s son, we
emerged from our camp under the ever rustling doum palms, and a short
mile brought us to the broad and almost level Salina, which stretches
from Mizanza to the south of the track to the hills of Unyangwira,
north.
The hilly range or upland wall which confronted us on the west ever
since we left the “Stones,” and which extends from Usekké northwards to
Machenché, is the natural boundary accepted by the natives as separating
Ugogo from Uyanzi—or Ukimbu, as it is now beginning to be called. The
slope of the Salina, though slight and imperceptible to the eye, is
southerly, and therefore drained by the Rufiji. The greatest breadth of
this plain is twenty miles, and its length may be estimated at fifty
miles. The march across it was very fatiguing. Not a drop of water was
discovered _en route_, though towards the latter part of the journey a
grateful rain shower fell, which revived the caravan, but converted the
plain into a quagmire.
On approaching the Mukondoku district, which contains about a hundred
small villages, we sighted the always bellicose natives advancing upon
our van with uplifted spears and noisy show of war. This belligerent
exhibition did not disturb our equanimity, as we were strangers and had
given no cause for hostilities. After manifesting their prowess by a few
harmless boasts and much frantic action, they soon subsided into a more
pacific demeanour, and permitted us to proceed quietly to our camp under
a towering baobab near the king’s village.
This king’s name is Chalula, and he is a brother of Masumami of
Kitalalo. Unlike his nobler brother, he is crafty and unscrupulous, and
levies extortionate tribute on travellers, for which he never deigns to
send the smallest present in return. His people are numerous, strong,
and bold, and, sharing the overweening pride of their king, are prone to
insolence and hostility upon the slightest cause. Being so powerful, he
is cordially detested by his royal brothers of Kiwyeh, Khonko, and
Mizanza. We experienced therefore much difficulty in preserving the
peace, as his people would insist upon filling the camp, and prying into
every tent and hut.
A conspiracy was discovered at this place, by which fifty men, who had
firmly resolved to abscond, were prevented from carrying out their
intention by my securing the ring-leaders and disarming their deluded
followers. Twenty men were on the sick list, from fever, sore feet,
ophthalmia, and rheumatism. Five succeeded in deserting with their guns
and accoutrements, and two men were left at Mukondoku almost blind.
Indeed, to record our daily mischances and our losses up to this date in
full detail would require half of this volume; but these slight hints
will suffice to show that the journey of an expedition into Africa is
beset with troubles and disaster.
Frank and Edward Pocock and Frederick Barker rendered me invaluable
services while endeavouring to harmonise the large, unruly mob with its
many eccentric and unassimilating natures. Quarrels were frequent,
sometimes even dangerous, between various members of the Expedition, and
at such critical moments only did my personal interference become
imperatively necessary. What with taking solar observations and making
ethnological notes, negotiating with chiefs about the tribute moneys and
attending on the sick, my time was occupied from morning until night. In
addition to all this strain on my own physical powers, I was myself
frequently sick from fever, and wasted from lack of proper, nourishing
food; and if the chief of an expedition be thus distressed, it may
readily be believed that the poor fellows depending on him suffer also.
_Jan. 1._—Having received our guides from Chalula, king of Mukondoku,
on the 1st of January 1875 we struck north, thus leaving for the
first time the path to Unyanyembé, the common highway of East Central
Africa. We were skirting the eastern base of the upland wall, or hilly
range (which, as I have said, we sighted westward from the “Stones”),
by a path which connected several Wahumba villages. Though humble
to the European eye, these villages owned several herds of humped,
short-horned cattle, flocks of sheep and goats, with many strong asses
and dogs. Some of the young women were unusually pretty, with regular
features, well-formed noses, thin, finely chiselled lips, and graceful
forms.
We—the Europeans—were as great curiosities to the natives as though
they lived hundreds of miles from the Unyanyembé road. Each of the
principal men and women extended to us pressing invitations to stop in
their villages, and handsome young chiefs entreated us to become their
blood-brothers. Young Keelusu, the son of the chief of Mwenna, even
came to my camp at night, and begged me to accept a “small gift from
a friend,” which he had brought. This gift was a gallon of new milk,
still warm from the udder. Such a welcome present was reciprocated with
a gilt bracelet, with a great green crystal set in it, a briarwood
pipe, stem banded in silver, a gilt chain, and a Sohari cloth, with
which he was so overjoyed as almost to weep. His emotions of gratitude
were visible in the glistening and dilated eyes, and felt in the
fervent grasp he gave my hand. By some magic art with his sandals of
cowhide, he predicted success to my journey. As the right sandal after
being tossed three times upward, each time turned upside down, my good
health and well-being, he said, were assured, without a doubt.
_Jan. 2._—The next halt was made at Mtiwi, the chief of which was
Malewa. The aneroid here indicated an altitude of 2825 feet. Our
faithless Wagogo guides having deserted us, we marched a little distance
farther north, and ascended the already described “upland wall,” where
the aneroid at our camp indicated a height of 3800 feet—or about 950
feet above the plain on which Mtiwi, Mwenna, and Mukondoku are situated.
The last night at Mtiwi was a disturbed one. The “floodgates of heaven”
seemed literally opened for a period. After an hour’s rainfall, 6 inches
of water covered our camp, and a slow current ran southerly. Every
member of the expedition was distressed, and even the Europeans, lodged
in tents, were not exempted from the evils of the night. My tent walls
enclosed a little pool, banked by boxes of stores and ammunition.
Hearing cries outside, I lit a candle, and my astonishment was great to
find that my bed was an island in a shallow river, which, if it
increased in depth and current, would assuredly carry me off south
towards the Rufiji. My walking boots were miniature barks, floating to
and fro on a turbid tide seeking a place of exit to the dark world of
waters without. My guns, lashed to the centre pole, were stock deep in
water. But the most comical sight was presented by Jack and Bull,
perched back to back on the top of an ammunition-box, butting each other
rearward, and snarling and growling for that scant portion of comfort.
In the morning, I discovered my fatigue cap several yards outside the
tent, and one of my boots sailing down south. The harmonium, a present
for Mtesa, a large quantity of gunpowder, tea, rice and sugar, were
destroyed. Vengeance appeared to have overtaken us. At 10 A.M. the sun
appeared, astonished no doubt at a new lake formed during his absence.
By noon the water had considerably decreased, and permitted us to march;
and with glad hearts we surmounted the upland of Uyanzi, and from our
busy camp, on the afternoon of the 4th of January, gazed upon the
spacious plain beneath, and the vast broad region of sterility and
thorns which we had known as inhospitable Ugogo.
_Jan. 4._—On the upland which we were now about to traverse, we had
arrived at an elevation which greatly altered the character of the
vegetation. On the plain of Ugogo flourish only dwarf bush, a mongrel
and degenerate variety of the noble trees growing in Uyanzi, consisting
of acacia, rank-smelling gum-trees, and euphorbias. Here we have the
stately myombo or African ash. This tree grows on the loftier ridges
and high uplands, flourishing best on loose ferruginous soil. It
utterly rejects the rich alluvium, as well as the shady loam. Where the
tree assumes its greatest height and girth, we may be sure also that
not far off strange freaks of rock will be found in the bosom of the
forest, such as gigantic square blocks of granite, of the magnitude
of cottages, and at a distance reminding the traveller of miniature
castles and other kinds of human dwellings. Large sheets of hematite
and gneiss denuded of soil are also characteristics of this plateau,
while still another feature is a succession of low and grandly swelling
ridges, or land-waves.
On our road to Muhalala, we met hundreds of fugitives who were escaping
from the battle-grounds near Kirurumo, the natives of which were being
harassed by Nyungu, son of Mkasiwa of Unyanyembé, for expressing
sympathy with Mirambo, the warrior chief of Western Unyamwezi.
_Jan. 6._—Muhalala is a small settlement of Wakimbu, the chief of which
declares he owes a nominal allegiance to Malewa of Mtiwi. Procuring
guides here, on the 6th of January we ascended a ridge, its face rough
with many a block of iron ore, and a scabby grey rock, on which torrents
and rains had worked wonderful changes, and within two hours arrived at
Kashongwa, a village situated on the verge of a trackless wild, peopled
by a mixture of Wasukuma, renegade Wangwana, and Wanyamwezi. We were
informed by officious Wangwana, who appeared glad to meet their
countrymen, that we were but two days’ march from Urimi. As they had no
provisions to sell, and each man and woman had two days’ rations, we
resumed our journey, accompanied by one of them as a guide, along a road
which, they informed us, would take us the day after to Urimi, and after
two hours camped near a small pool.
_Jan. 8._—The next day we travelled over a plain which had a gradual
uplift towards the north-west, and was covered with dense, low bush. Our
path was ill-defined, as only small Wagogo caravans travelled to Urimi,
but the guide assured us that he knew the road. In this dense bush there
was not one large tree. It formed a vast carpet of scrub and brush, tall
enough to permit us to force our way among the lower branches, which
were so interwoven one with another that it sickens me almost to write
of this day’s experience. Though our march was but ten miles, it
occupied us as many hours of labour, elbowing and thrusting our way, to
the injury of our bodies and the detriment of our clothing. We camped at
5 P.M. near another small pool, at an altitude of 4350 feet above the
sea. The next day, on the afternoon of the 8th, we should have reached
Urimi, and, in order to be certain of doing so, marched fourteen miles
to still another pool at a height of 4550 feet above sea-level. Yet
still we saw no limit to this immense bush-field, and our labours had,
this day, been increased tenfold. Our guide had lost the path early in
the day, and was innocently leading us in an easterly direction!
The responsibility of leading a half-starved expedition—as ours now
certainly was—through a dense bush, without knowing whither or for how
many days, was great; but I was compelled to undertake it rather than
see it wander eastward, where it would be hopeless to expect provisions.
The greater number of our people had consumed their rations early in the
morning. I had led it northward for hours, when we came to a large tree
to the top of which I requested the guide to ascend, to try if he could
recognise any familiar feature in the dreary landscape. After a short
examination, he declared he saw a ridge that he knew, near which, he
said, was situate the village of Uveriveri. This news stimulated our
exertions, and, myself leading the van, we travelled briskly until 5
P.M., when we arrived at the third pool.
Meantime Barker and the two Pococks, assisted by twenty chiefs, were
bringing up the rear, and we never suspected for a moment that the broad
track which we trampled over grass and through bush would be unperceived
by those in rear of us. The Europeans and chiefs, assisted by the
reports of heavily loaded muskets, were enabled to reach camp
successfully at 7 P.M.; but the chiefs then reported that there had not
arrived a party of four men, and a donkey boy who was leading an ass
loaded with coffee. Of these, however, there was no fear, as they had
detailed the chief Simba to oversee them, Simba having a reputation
among his fellows for fidelity, courage, and knowledge of travel.
_Jan. 9._—The night passed, and the morning of the 9th dawned, and I
anxiously asked about the absentees. They had not arrived. But as each
hour in the jungle added to the distress of a still greater number of
people, we moved on to the miserable little village of Uveriveri. The
inhabitants consisted of only two families, who could not spare us one
grain! We might as well have remained in the jungle, for no sustenance
could be procured here.
In this critical position, many lives hanging on my decision, I resolved
to despatch forty of the strongest men—ten chiefs and thirty of the
boldest youths—to Suna in Urimi, for the villagers of Uveriveri had of
course given us the desired information as to our whereabouts. The
distance from Uveriveri to Suna was twenty-eight miles, as we
subsequently discovered. Pinched with hunger themselves, the forty
volunteers advanced with the resolution to reach Suna that night. They
were instructed to purchase 800 lbs. of grain, which would give a light
load of 20 lbs. to each man, and urged to return as quickly as possible,
for the lives of their women and friends depended on their manliness.
Manwa Sera was also despatched with a party of twenty to hunt up the
missing men. Late in the afternoon they returned with the news that
three of the missing men were dead. They had lost the road, and,
travelling along an elephant track, had struggled on till they perished,
of despair, hunger, and exhaustion. Simba and the donkey-boy, the ass
and its load of coffee, were never seen or heard of again.
_Jan. 10._—With the sad prospect of starvation impending over us, we
were at various expedients to sustain life until the food purveyors
should return. Early on the morning of the 10th, I travelled far and
searched every likely place for game, but though tracks were numerous,
we failed to sight a single head. The Wangwana also roamed about the
forest—for the Uveriveri ridge was covered with fine myombo trees—in
search of edible roots and berries, and examined various trees to
discover whether they afforded anything that could allay the grievous
and bitter pangs of hunger. Some found a putrid elephant, on which they
gorged themselves, and were punished with nausea and sickness. Others
found a lion’s den, with two lion whelps, which they brought to me.
Meanwhile, Frank and I examined the medical stores, and found to our
great joy we had sufficient oatmeal to give every soul two cupfuls of
thin gruel. A “Torquay dress trunk” of sheet-iron was at once emptied of
its contents and filled with 25 gallons of water, into which were put 10
lbs. of oatmeal and four 1-lb. tins of “revalenta arabica.” How the
people, middle-aged and young, gathered round that trunk, and heaped
fuel underneath that it might boil the quicker! How eagerly they watched
it lest some calamity should happen, and clamoured, when it was ready,
for their share, and how inexpressibly satisfied they seemed as they
tried to make the most of what they received, and with what fervour they
thanked “God” for his mercies!
At 9 P.M., as we were about to sleep, we heard the faint sound of a gun
fired deliberately three times, and we all knew then that our young men
with food were not very far from us. The next morning, about 7 A.M., the
bold and welcome purveyors arrived in camp with just enough millet-seed
to give each soul one good meal. This the people soon despatched, and
then demanded that we should resume our journey that afternoon, so that
next morning we might reach Suna in time to forage.
Skirting the southern base of the wooded ridge of Uveriveri, we
continued to ascend almost imperceptibly for eight miles, when we
arrived at another singular series of lofty rocks, called at once by the
Wangwana the Jiweni or “Stones.” We camped near a rocky hill 125 feet
high, from the summit of which I obtained a view of a green grassy plain
stretching towards the north. The altitude of this camp was 5250 feet
above sea-level. Towards night I shot a wild boar and a duck, but
several of the Wangwana, being strict Muslims, could not be induced to
eat the pork. From the “Stones” we came to what we had called a plain
from the summit, but what was really, from its marshy nature, more of a
quagmire. It appeared to be a great resort for elephants; thousands of
the tracks of these great animals ran in all directions. Plunging into
another jungle, we reappeared, after marching twenty miles, in the
cultivated fields of Suna; and on the verge of a coppice we constructed
a strong camp, whence we had a view of the “Stones,” which we had left
in the morning, no other eminences being visible above what appeared a
very ocean of bush.
_Jan. 12._—Next morning there was a strange and peculiar air of
discontent, like a foreshadowing of trouble, among the natives who
appeared before our camp. They did not appear to understand us. They
were seen hurrying their women and children away, and deserting their
villages, while others hovered round our camp menacingly, carrying in
their hands a prodigious quantity of arms—spears, bows and arrows, and
knob-sticks. Trouble seemed imminent. To prevent it, if possible, I
stepped out to them with empty hands, motioned them to be seated, and,
calling an interpreter, likewise unarmed, I attempted to explain the
nature of our expedition and a few of its objects, one of which of
course was to reach Lake Victoria. To those elders who appeared to have
most influence, I gave some beads, as an expression of goodwill and
friendship. But nothing seemed to be of avail until, after close
questioning, I ascertained they had a grievance. Some of the Wangwana,
in their ravenous hunger, had plundered the grain huts, and stolen some
chickens. The natives were requested to come and point out the thieves.
They did so, and pointed their fingers at Alsassi, a notorious thief and
gourmand. Convicted of the crime after a strict examination of his
quarters by Kachéché, the chief detective, Alsassi was flogged in their
presence, not severely but sufficiently to mark my sense of extreme
displeasure. The value of the stolen food was given to the defrauded
natives, and peace and tranquillity were restored.
The Warimi are the finest people in physique we saw between their
country and the sea. They are robust, tall, manly in bearing, and
possess very regular features. As they go stark naked, we perceived that
the males had undergone the process of circumcision. Their ornaments are
cinctures of brass wire round the loins, armlets and leglets of brass,
brass-wire collars, beads plentifully sprinkled over their hair, and
about a dozen long necklaces suspended from the neck. The war costumes
which they were wearing when I had thought that trouble was near were
curious and various. Feathers of the kite and hawk, manes of the zebra
and giraffe, encircled their foreheads. Their arms consisted of
portentous-looking spears, bows and yard-long arrows, and shields of
rhinoceros hide. The women, I imagine, are generally a shade lighter
than the men. I failed to see in a day’s examination a single flat nose
or thick lip, though they were truly negroidal in hair and colour. I
ought to have said that many shaved their heads, leaving only a thin
wavy line over the forehead.
The rolling plain of Suna was at this season utterly devoid of grass. An
immense area was under cultivation; clusters of small villages were
sprinkled over all the prospect the eye embraced, and large flocks of
goats and sheep and herds of cattle proved that they were a pastoral as
well as an agricultural people.
The Warimi appear to have no chief, but submit to direction by the
elders, or heads of families, who have acquired importance by judicious
alliances, and to whom they refer civil causes. In time of war, however,
as we observed the day after we arrived, they have for their elder one
who has a military reputation. This fighting elder, to whom I remarked
great deference was paid, was certainly 6½ feet in height. The species
of beads called Kanyera were, it seemed to me, most in favour; brass
wire was also in demand, but all cloth was rejected except the blue
Kaniki.
We halted four days at Suna, as our situation was deplorable. A
constantly increasing sick list, culminating in the serious illness of
Edward Pocock, the evident restlessness of the Warimi at our presence,
who most certainly wished us anywhere except in their country, and yet
had no excuse for driving us by force from their neighbourhood, the
insufficient quantity of food that could be purchased, and the growing
importunacy of the healthy Wangwana to be led away from such a churlish
and suspicious people, plunged me in perplexity.
We had now over thirty men ailing. Some suffered from dysentery, others
from fever, asthma, chest diseases, and heart sickness; lungs were weak,
and rheumatism had its victims. Edward Pocock, on the afternoon of the
day we arrived at Suna, came to me, and complained of pain in the loins,
a throbbing in the head—which I attributed to weariness after our
terribly long march—and a slight fever. I suggested to him that he had
better lie down and rest. Before I retired, I reminded Frank, his
brother, that he should give Edward some alterative medicine. The next
day the young man was worse. His tongue was thickly coated with a dark
fur, his face fearfully pallid, and he complained of wandering pains in
his back and knees, of giddiness and great thirst. I administered to him
sweet spirits of nitre with orange water, and a few grains of
ipecacuanha as an emetic. The fourth day he was delirious, and we were
about to sponge him with cold water, when I observed that small red
pimples with white tops covered his chest and abdomen, arms and neck.
One or two were very like small-pox pustules, which deceived me for a
time into the belief that it was a mild case of small-pox. However, by
carefully noticing the symptoms, I perceived that it was unmistakably a
case of the dreadful typhus.
_Jan. 17._—There were two or three cases of sickness equally dangerous
in camp, but far more dangerous was the sickness of temper from which
the Warimi suffered. It became imperative that we should keep moving, if
only two or three miles a day. Accordingly, on the 17th of January,
after rigging up four hammocks, and making one especially comfortable
for Edward Pocock, roofed over with canvas, we moved from the camp
through the populated district at a very slow pace; Frank Pocock and
Fred Barker at the side of the hammock of the sick European, and a chief
and four men attending to each suffering Wangwana. Hundreds of natives
fully armed kept up with us on either side of our path.
Never since leaving the sea were we weaker in spirit than on this day.
Had we been attacked, I doubt if we should have made much resistance.
The famine in Ugogo, and that terribly protracted trial of strength
through the jungle of Uveriveri, had utterly unmanned us; besides, we
had such a long list of sick, and Edward Pocock and three Wangwana were
dangerously ill in hammocks. We were an unspeakably miserable and
disheartened band; yet, urged by our destiny, we struggled on, though
languidly. Our spirits seemed dying, or resolving themselves into
weights which oppressed our hearts. Weary, harassed, and feeble
creatures, we arrived at Chiwyu, four hundred miles from the sea, and
camped near the crest of a hill, which was marked by aneroid as 5400
feet above the level of the ocean.
Edward Pocock was reported by Frank to have muttered in his delirium,
“The master has just hit it,” and to have said that he felt very
comfortable. On arriving at the camp, one of the boat sections was
elevated above him as a protection from the sun, until a cool grass hut
could be erected. A stockade was being constructed by piling a thick
fence of brushwood around a spacious circle, along which grass huts were
fast being built, when Frank entreated me to step to his brother’s side.
I sprang to him—only in time, however, to see him take his last gasp.
Frank gave a shriek of sorrow when he realised that the spirit of his
brother had fled for ever, and removing the boat section, bent over the
corpse and wailed in a paroxysm of agony.
We excavated a grave 4 feet deep at the foot of a hoary acacia with
wide-spreading branches, and on its ancient trunk Frank engraved a deep
cross, the emblem of the faith we all believe in, and, when folded in
its shroud, we laid the body in its final resting-place during the last
gleams of sunset. We read the beautiful prayers of the church service
for the dead, and, out of respect for the departed, whose frank,
sociable, and winning manners had won their friendship and regard,
nearly all the Wangwana were present to pay a last tribute of sighs to
poor Edward Pocock.
[Illustration:
IN MEMORIAM
EDWARD POCOCK + DIED JAN. 17. 1875
]
When the last solemn prayer had been read, we retired to our tents, to
brood in sorrow and silence over our irreparable loss.
From Chiwyu to Vinyata—Kaif Halleck murdered—The magic doctor—Giving
away the heart—Deeds of blood—“The white men are only women”—A three
days’ fight—Punishment of the Wanyaturu—The ubiquitous Mirambo—The
plain of the Luwamberri—In a land of plenty—Through the open country—
“I have seen the lake, sir, and it is grand!”—Welcomed at Kagehyi.
_Jan. 18._—We have seen no remarkable feature in the landscape since we
surmounted that steep wall of the upland which bounds Ugogo on the west.
Near its verge, it is true, it rose in steep terraces, until finally it
extended westward and northward in a broad jungle-covered plain, which
had a gradual rise, culminating in the myombo-clad slopes of the
Uveriveri ridge. While standing at Suna, we were in view of that vast
waste out of which, after terrible experience, we had emerged as it were
only with our lives.
At Chiwyu, we camped near the loftiest altitude of the gradual and
almost unbroken rise of upland, at a height of 5400 feet. To the
northward of Suna and Chiwyu, the country, however, no longer retained
that grand unfurrowed uplift, but presented several isolated hills and
short ranges, while to the westward also we saw that it was divided into
oval basins, rimmed with low hills. From these same hollows and furrows
and basins at the base of the hills, scattered to the north and west of
Suna and Chiwyu, issue the first tiny rivulets, which, as we continue
our journey to the north-west, gradually converge to one main stream,
trending towards Lake Victoria. It is in this region, therefore, that
the most extreme southern Sources of the Nile were discovered.
Since leaving Mpwapwa, we have not crossed one perennial stream. All
our drinking water has been obtained from pools, or shallow depressions
lately filled by rain. Between Suna and Chiwyu was crossed one small
rill flowing north-easterly, which soon afterwards joins another and
still another, and gathering volume, swerves north, then north-west.
These are the furthest springs and head-waters of a river that will
presently become known as the Leewumbu, then as the Monangah, and
lastly as the Shimeeyu, under which name it enters Lake Victoria on the
south-east coast of Speke Gulf.
Descending into the basin of Matongo from Chiwyu with its melancholy
associations, we crossed several narrow and shallow furrows, which a few
late rains had probably caused, and came to a clear stream flowing north
through a deep rocky channel. Near this ravine was a space about a
square mile in extent, strangely torn up and exhibiting thousands of
boulders and blocks, large and small, with smooth, waterworn tops; and
the sides of what is now a small hill in the centre of the basin showed
visible traces of the action of furious torrents through centuries of
time. The hard granite was worn into cones, the tops of which bore a
calcined appearance, proving the effect of intense heat suddenly cooled
by rain. The rocky channel of this stream in the Matongo basin was a
veritable geological section. The surface consisted of massive granite
boulders imbedded in vegetable deposit; below this was a stratum of sand
about 3 feet deep, below the sand a stratum of coarse shingle of quartz,
feldspar, and porphyry, about 8 feet thick, and below this was alluvium,
resting on solid rock.
_Jan. 20._—During these days the thermometer had seldom risen higher
than 78°; for hours during the day it stood at 66°, while at night the
mean was 63°. Seven miles from Chiwyu stand the villages of Mangura on
the borders of Ituru. Soon after leaving Mangura we ought to have
followed the left-hand road, which, after traversing a forest, would
have brought us to Mgongo Tembo, where we should have found Wangwana and
Wanyamwezi. We also discovered that we had already lost the regular path
to Usukuma at Kashongwa, which would have taken us, we were told, to
Utaturu and thence to Mgongo Tembo. But the Mangura natives, though they
were otherwise tolerant of our presence and by no means ill-disposed,
would not condescend to show us the road, and we were therefore exposed
to a series of calamities, which at one time threatened our very
existence.
After passing Mangura, we entered Ituru. Streams now became numerous,
all flowing northward; but though such a well-watered country, the
cattle in it were poor and gaunt in frame, the dogs half starved, and
the sheep and goats mere skeletons. Only the human beings seemed to me
to be in good condition. Among the birds of this region which attracted
our attention, we noted spur-winged geese, small brown short-billed
ducks, delicate of flesh and delicious eating, long-legged plover,
snipe, cranes, herons, spoonbills, parroquets and jays, and a large
greyish-brown bird with short legs resembling a goose, and very shy and
difficult of approach.
The language of Ituru is totally distinct from that of Ugogo or of
Unyamwezi. Besides possessing large herds of cattle, nearly every
village boasts of one or two strong Masai asses. As the Wanyaturu stood
in groups indulging their curiosity outside our camps, I observed they
had a curious habit of employing themselves in plucking the hair from
their faces and armpits. Being extremely distant in their manner, we
found it difficult to gain their confidence, though we were assiduous in
our attempts to cultivate their goodwill.
Izanjeh was our next camp after Mangura, and the first place we halted
at in Ituru. It was 5450 feet above the sea.
On leaving Izanjeh, Kaif Halleck, the bearer of the letter-bag to
Livingstone in 1871, was afflicted with asthma, and as we were compelled
to travel slowly, I entreated him not to lag behind the Expedition while
it traversed such a dangerous country. But I have observed that sick men
seldom heed advice. Being obliged to go forward to the front during
these evil and trying days, I had to leave the rearguard under Frank
Pocock and Fred Barker and the Wangwana chiefs. As my duties would be
mainly to introduce and ingratiate our expedition with the natives, I
could not possibly know what happened in the rear until we reached camp,
and reports were made to me by Frank and Manwa Sera.
_Jan. 21._—From the top of a ridge, accompanied by a guide whose
goodwill had been secured by me, I descended to the basin of what the
Wangwana at Mgongo Tembo call Vinyata, but which the guide, I feel
assured, called Niranga. The basin is oval, about twelve miles long by
six miles wide, cut through the centre by the Leewumbu, as it flows in a
W.N.W. direction, becoming lost, soon after leaving the basin, in a
cluster of woodclad hills. Numbers of villages are sprinkled over it
from end to end, and from the summit of the ridge we guessed it to
contain a populous and wealthy community. On the evening of the same
day, the 21st of January 1875, we arrived at Vinyata.
There was nothing in the horizon of our daily life that the most fearful
and timid could have considered ominous. Nevertheless, consistent with
custom, the camp was constructed on the summit of a slightly swelling
ground, between a forest and the fields in the basin. The people of the
small village nearest to us deserted it upon first sight of our party,
but they were finally persuaded to return. Everything promised at night
to be peaceful, though anxiety began to be felt about the fate of Kaif
Halleck. He had not been seen for two days. Some suggested he had
deserted, but “faithfuls” rarely desert upon mere impulse, without
motive or cause. It was necessary therefore to halt a day at Vinyata to
despatch a searching party. Manwa Sera was told to take four staunch
men, one of whom was the scout and famous detective, Kachéché, to hunt
up the sick “letter-carrier of 1871.”
During Manwa Sera’s absence, Frank, Barker, and myself were occupied in
reducing our loads, and rejecting every article that we could possibly
subsist without. Our sick were many, twenty had died, and eighty-nine
had deserted, between the coast and Vinyata!
While examining the cloth bales, we discovered that several were wet
from the excessive rains of Ugogo, and to save them from being ruined,
it was imperative, though impolitic, that we should spread the cloths to
dry. In the midst of this work the great magic doctor of Vinyata came to
pay me a visit, bringing with him a fine fat ox as a peace offering.
Being the first we had received since leaving Kitalalo, we regarded it
as a propitious omen, and I showed by my warmth toward the ancient
Mganga that I was ready to reciprocate his kindness. He was introduced
to my tent, and after being sociably entertained with exceedingly sweet
coffee and some of Huntley and Palmer’s best and sweetest biscuits, he
was presented with fifteen cloths, thirty necklaces, and ten yards of
brass wire, which repaid him fourfold for his ox. Trivial things, such
as empty sardine boxes, soup and bouilli pots, and empty jam tins, were
successively bestowed on him as he begged for them. The horizon appeared
clearer than ever, when he entreated me to go through the process of
blood-brotherhood, which I underwent with all the ceremonious gravity of
a pagan. As he was finally departing, he saw preparations being made to
despatch the ox, and he expressed his desire that the heart of the
animal should be returned to him. While he stayed for it, I observed
with uneasiness that he and his following cast lingering glances upon
the cloths which were drying in camp.
During the day the Wangwana received several days’ back rations, towards
repairing the havoc which the jungle of Uveriveri and famine-stricken
Ugogo had effected in their frames, and our intercourse with the natives
this day was most friendly. But before retiring for the night, Manwa
Sera and his scouts returned with the report that “Kaif Halleck’s” dead
body had been discovered, gashed with over thirty wounds, on the edge of
a wood between Izanjeh and Vinyata!
“We cannot help it, my friends,” I said after a little deliberation. “We
can mourn for him, but we cannot avenge him. Go and tell the people to
take warning from his fate not to venture too far from the camp, and
when on the march not to lag behind the caravan; and you, who are the
chiefs and in charge of the rear, must not again leave a sick man to
find his way unprotected to camp.”
_Jan. 22._—The next day the magic doctor appeared about 8 A.M. to
receive another present, and as he brought with him about a quart of
curded milk, he was not disappointed. He also received a few beads for
his wife and for each of his children. We parted about 9.30 A.M., after
shaking hands many times, apparently mutually pleased with each other.
No mention was made to any native of Vinyata of the murder of Kaif
Halleck, lest it might be suspected we charged our new friends with
being cognisant of, or accessory to, the cruel deed, which would,
without doubt, have caused new complications.
Half an hour after the departure of the magic doctor, while many of the
Wangwana were absent purchasing grain, and others were in the forest
collecting faggots, we heard war-cries. Imagining that they were the
muster-call to resist their neighbours of Izanjeh, or of some tribe to
the east, we did not pay much attention to them. However, as these
peculiar war-cries, which may be phonetically rendered “Hehu-a-hehu,”
appeared to draw nearer, we mustered a small party on the highest ground
of the camp, in an attitude of doubt and inquiry, and presently saw a
large body of natives armed with spears, bows and arrows, and shields,
appear within a hundred yards on a similar high-ground outside the camp.
The sight suggested to us that they had mustered against us, yet I could
divine no cause of grievance or subject of complaint to call forth a
warlike demonstration.
I despatched two unarmed messengers to them to inquire what their
intentions were, and to ascertain the object of this apparently hostile
mob. The messengers halted midway between the camp and the crowd, and
sitting down, invited two of the natives to advance to them for a
“shauri.”
We soon discovered upon the return of the messengers that one of the
Wangwana had stolen some milk, and that the natives had been aroused to
“make war”[7] upon us because of the theft. They were sent back to
inform the natives that war was wicked and unjust for such a small
crime, and to suggest that they should fix a price upon the milk, and
permit us to atone for the wrong with a handsome gift. After some
deliberation the proposition was agreed to. A liberal present of cloth
was made, and the affair had apparently terminated.
But as this mob was about to retire peacefully, another large force
appeared from the north. A consultation ensued, at first quietly enough,
but there were one or two prominent figures there, who raised their
voices, the loud, sharp, and peremptory tones of which instinctively
warned me that their owners would carry the day. There was a bellicose
activity about their movements, an emphasis in their gestures, and a
determined wrathful fury about the motion of head and pose of body that
were unmistakable. They appeared to be quarrelling doggedly with those
who had received cloth for the milk, and were evidently ready to fight
with them if they persisted in retiring without bloodshed.
In the midst of this, Soudi, a youth of Zanzibar, came hastily upon the
scene. He had a javelin gash near the right elbow joint, and a slight
cut as though from a flying spear was visible on his left side, while a
ghastly wound from a whirling knobstick had laid open his temples. He
reported his brother Suliman as lying dead near the forest, to the west
of the camp.
We decided, nevertheless, to do nothing. We were strong disciples of the
doctrine of forbearance, for it seemed to me then as if Livingstone had
taught it to me only the day before. “Keep silence,” I said: “even for
this last murder I shall not fight; when they attack the camp, it will
be time enough then.” To Frank I simply said that he might distribute
twenty rounds of ammunition without noise to each man, and dispose our
party on either side of the gate, ready for a charge should the natives
determine upon attacking us.
The loudly arguing mob had not yet settled conclusively what they should
do, and possibly hostilities might have been averted, had not the
murderers of young Suliman, advancing red-handed and triumphant,
extorted from all the unanimous opinion that it would be better after
all to fight “the cowardly Wangwana and the white men, who were
evidently only women.”
They quickly disposed themselves, delivered loud whoops of triumph,
prepared their bows, and shot their first arrows. The Wangwana became
restless, but I restrained them. Perceiving no sign of life in our camp,
the Wanyaturu judged, doubtless, that we were half dead with fright, and
advanced boldly to within thirty yards, when the word was given to the
Wangwana and Wanyamwesi, who rushed outside and, by the very momentum of
the rush, drove the savages to a distance of 200 yards. The Wangwana
were then ordered to halt, and deployed as skirmishers.
We still waited without firing. The savages, not comprehending this
extraordinary forbearance, advanced once more. The interpreters were
requested to warn them that we should delay no longer. They replied, “Ye
are women, ye are women; go, ask Mirambo how he fared in Ituru,” saying
which they twanged their bows. It was only then, perceiving that they
were too savage to understand the principles of forbearance, that the
final word to “fight” was given. A brisk encounter was maintained for an
hour, and then, having driven the savages away, the Wangwana were
recalled to camp.
Meanwhile Frank was busy with sixty men armed with axes in constructing
a strong stockade, and on the return of the Wangwana they were employed
in building marksmen’s “nests” at each corner of the camp. We also
cleared the ground to the space of 200 yards around the camp. By night
our camp was secure, and perfectly defensible.
_Jan. 24._—On the morning of the 24th we waited patiently in our camp.
Why should we attack? We were wretched enough as it was without seeking
to add to our wretchedness. We numbered only seventy effective men, for
all the others were invalids, frightened porters, women, donkey-boys,
and children. The sick list was alarming, but, try how we might, the
number was not to be reduced. While we lived from hand to mouth on a few
grains of corn a day, after a month’s experience of famine fare, our
plight must not only remain pitiable, but become worse. We were
therefore in a mood to pray that we might not be attacked, but permitted
to leave the camp in safety.
At 9 A.M., however, the enemy appeared, reinforced both in numbers and
confidence, for the adjoining districts on the north and east had been
summoned to the “war.” This word means now, as is evident, daily attacks
upon our camp, with forces hourly increasing, until we shall have also
perhaps strange tribes to the westward invited to the extermination of
the strangers, and ourselves be in the meantime penned in our hold until
hunger reduces us to surrender, to be butchered without mercy.
Our position, as strangers in a hostile country, is such that we cannot
exist as a corporate expedition, unless we resist with all our might and
skill, in order to terminate hostilities and secure access to the
western country. We therefore wait until they advance upon our camp, and
drive them from its vicinity, as we did the day before. In half an hour
our people are back, and organised into four detachments of ten men each
under their separate chiefs, two more detachments of ten men each being
held in reserve, and one other, of ten also, detailed for the defence of
the camp. They are instructed to proceed in skirmishing order in
different directions through the hostile country, and to drive the
inhabitants out wherever they find them lodged, to a distance of five
miles east and north, certain rocky hills, the rendezvous of the foe,
being pointed out as the place where they must converge. Messengers are
sent with each detachment to bring me back information.
The left detachment, under chief Farjalla Christie, were soon thrown
into disorder, and were killed to a man except the messenger who brought
us the news, imploring for the reserve, as the enemy were now
concentrated on the second detachment. Manwa Sera was therefore
despatched with fifteen men, and arrived at the scene only in time to
save eight out of the second detachment. The third plunged boldly on,
but lost six of its number; the fourth, under chief Safeni, behaved
prudently and well, and, as fast as each enclosed village was taken, set
it on fire. But ten other men despatched to the scene retrieved what the
third had lost, and strengthened Safeni.
About 4 P.M. the Wangwana returned, bringing with them oxen, goats, and
grain for food. Our losses in this day’s proceedings were twenty-one
soldiers and one messenger killed, and three wounded.
_Jan. 25._—On the morning of the 25th we waited until 9 A.M., again
hoping that the Wanyaturu would see the impolicy of renewing the fight;
but we were disappointed, for they appeared again, and apparently as
numerous as ever. After some severe volleys we drove them off again on
the third day, but upon the return of the Wangwana, instead of dividing
them into detachments I instructed them to proceed in a compact body.
Some of the porters volunteered to take the place of the soldiers who
perished the previous day, and we were therefore able to show still a
formidable front. All the villages in our neighbourhood being first
consumed, they continued their march, and finally attacked the rocky
hill, which the Wanyaturu had adopted as a stronghold, and drove them
flying precipitately into the neighbouring country, where they did not
follow them.
We knew now that we should not be disturbed. Some of the guns, lost
the day before, we recaptured. On reckoning up our loss on the evening
of the third day, we ascertained it to be twenty-two men killed, three
men wounded, twelve guns lost, and four cases of ammunition expended.
Including Kaif Halleck and Suliman murdered, our losses in Ituru were
therefore twenty-four men killed and four wounded, and as we had
twenty-five on the sick-list, it may be imagined that to replace these
fifty-three men great sacrifices were necessary on the part of the
survivors, and much ingenuity had to be exercised. Twelve loads were
accordingly placed on the asses, and ten chiefs were detailed to carry
baggage until we should arrive at Usukuma. Much miscellaneous property
was burned, and on the morning of the 26th, just before daybreak, we
resumed our interrupted journey.
The expedition on this day consisted of three Europeans, 206 Wangwana
and Wanyamwezi, twenty-five women, and six boys. At 9.30 A.M. we camped
at a place which might be called a natural fortress. To our right and
left rose two little hills 100 feet high and almost perpendicular.
Behind us dropped a steep slope 400 feet down to the Leewumbu river, so
that the only way of access was the narrow gap through which we had
entered. We soon closed the gateway with a dense wall of brushwood, and
in perfect security lay down to rest.
This camp was at an altitude of 5650 feet above the ocean, and due west
of Vinyata about ten miles. On one side of us was the deep-wooded valley
through which the rapid Leewumbu rushes. Its banks on each side slope
steeply upward, and at the top become detached hills clothed with
forest; from their base wave the uplands in grand and imposing wooded
ridges. North of the Leewumbu the hills are bolder than those to the
south.
_Jan. 27._—On the 27th, at dawn, we crossed the Leewumbu, and the whole
of that day and the day following our route was through a forest of fine
myombo, intersected by singular narrow plains, forming at this season of
the year so many quagmires. Other features of this region were enormous
bare rocks, looming like castles through the forest, and hillocks
composed of great fragments of splintered granite and broad heaving
humps of grey gneiss. One of these singular features of this part of
Africa gives its name to Mgongo Tembo, “The Elephant’s Back.” Far to the
south is a similar hill, which I passed by during the first expedition;
and its chief, emigrating to Iramba, has bestowed upon a like feature at
the site of his new colony the name of his former village, to remind him
of old associations.
_Jan. 29._—On the 29th we entered Mgongo Tembo, and became acquainted
with the chief, who is also known by the fantastic name which he has
given his new quarters, though his real name is Malewa. He is a strong
conservative, dislikes innovations, declares young men nowadays to be
too fond of travel, and will not allow his sons—he has sixteen—to visit
either Unyanyembé or Zanzibar lest they should learn bad habits. He is a
hearty, jovial soul, kindly disposed if let alone. He has lately emerged
triumphantly out of a war with Maganga of Rubuga, an ally of the famous
Mirambo.
It had been an object with me at one time to steer clear of Mirambo, but
as I recognised and became impressed with his ubiquitous powers, I
failed to perceive how the system of exploration I had planned could be
effected if I wandered great distances out of his way. On the first
expedition some of my people perished in a conflict with him, and on
returning with Livingstone to Unyanyembé, we heard of him dealing
effective blows with extraordinary rapidity on his Arab and native foes.
Since leaving Ugogo, we heard daily of him on this expedition. He was
one day advancing upon Kirirumo, at another place he was on our flanks
somewhere in Utaturu. He fought with Ituru, and, according to Mgongo
Tembo’s chief, lost 1100 men two months before we entered the country.
Mgongo Tembo, who kept a wary eye upon the formidable chief’s movements,
informed us that Mirambo was in front of us, fighting the Wasukuma.
Mgongo Tembo further said, in explanation of the unprovoked attacks of
the Wanyaturu upon us, that we ought not to have bestowed the heart of
the presented ox upon the magic doctor of Vinyata, as by the loss of
that diffuser of blood, the Wanyaturu believed we had left our own
bodies weakened and would be an easy prey to them. “The Wanyaturu are
robbers, and sons of robbers,” said he fiercely, after listening to the
recital of our experiences in Ituru.
_Feb. 1._—On the 1st of February, after a very necessary halt of two
days at Mgongo Tembo, with an addition to our force of eight pagazis and
two guides, and encouraged by favourable reports of the country in
front, we entered Mangura in Usukuma near a strange valley which
contained a forest of borassus palms. In the beds of the several streams
we crossed this day we observed granite boulders, blue shale, basalt,
porphyry and quartz.
Beyond Mangura, or about six miles west of it, was situate Igira, a
sparse settlement overlooking the magnificent plain of Luwamberri, at an
altitude by boiling-point of 5350 feet. A camp which we established in
this plain, was ascertained with the same apparatus to be 4475 feet. Ten
miles farther, near a sluggish ditch-like creek, the boiling-point
showed 4250 feet, only 100 feet higher than Lake Victoria.
As far as Igira the myombo flourished, but when we descended into the
plain, and the elevation above the sea decreased to 4000 feet, we
discovered that the baobab became the principal feature of the
vegetation, giving place soon after to thorny acacias and a variety of
scrub, succeeded in their turn by a vast expanse of tawny grass.
The Luwamberri plain—with its breadth of nearly forty miles, its
indefinite length of level reach towards the N.N.W., its low altitude
above the Victorian Lake, the wave-worn slopes of the higher elevations
which hem it on the east and the south—appears to me to have been in
ancient times a long arm of the great lake which was our prospective
goal at this period. About sixteen miles from Igira there is a small
sluggish stream with an almost imperceptible current northward, but
though it was insignificant at the time of our crossing, there were
certain traces on the tall grass to show that during the middle of the
rainy season it is nearly a mile broad, and very deep. Several nullahs
or ravines with stagnant water, when followed up, prove to have their
exit in the broad channel.
In the centre of the level plain rises a curious elevation, like an
island crowned with a grove, whither the game with which the plain teems
resort during the wet season. At the period of our crossing, however,
they roved in countless numbers over the plain—giraffe, zebra, gnu,
buffalo, springbok, water-buck, kudu, hartebeest, wild-boar, and several
varieties of smaller antelope; while birds abounded, ibis, field-larks,
fish-hawks, kingfishers, spur-winged geese, ducks, vultures, flamingoes,
spoonbills, and cranes.
With such a variety before them, it may readily be conceived that the
Wangwana and Wanyamwezi which now numbered, with the accessions to our
strength gained at Mangura and Igira, 280 men, earnestly hoped that I
should be successful in the sport to which I now devoted myself with the
aid of my faithful factotum Billali. One day I shot a giraffe and a
small antelope; on the next, in the neighbourhood of the woody elevation
in the plain, five zebra; and the third day on the western verge, I shot
two gnu, one buffalo, and a zebra, besides bagging two spur-winged
geese, four guinea-fowl, and five ducks. Meat was now a drug in our
camp. It was cooked in various styles, either stewed, roasted, fried, or
pounded for cakes. Some of the Wanyamwezi carried, besides their cloth
bale of 60 lbs. weight, nearly 35 lbs. of dried meat.
_Feb. 2._—On the western verge of the grassy plain we crossed the Itawa
river, a broad but sluggish stream choked with grass, and camped in a
locality which seemed to be favourable only to the production of baobab
and mimosa. After a few hours’ travel west of the Itawa, we crossed the
Gogo river with a course N.N.E. towards the Luwamberri plain. Here we
arrived at the easternmost of a chain of low hills with truncated tops.
These hills, pleasant to the eye, and covered with waving grass and a
sprinkling of thin dwarf bush, consisted of silicious feldspathic rock,
the stratification of which was vertical, in other parts diagonal, with
a dip to the north-west. The slopes of the hills were thickly covered
with detached pieces of this rock, and at the base with shingle. The
plain beneath, close to the vicinity of the hills, had extensive beds of
the same rock, which, in places, rose above it, exposed in great sheets.
_Feb. 9._—On the 9th of February we crossed the Nanga ravine, and the
next day, by a gradual ascent, arrived at the Seligwa, flowing to the
Leewumbu, and, after following it for four miles, reached the hospitable
village of Mombiti. We had fairly entered the rich country of Usukuma,
where the traveller, if he has resources at his disposal, need never
fear starvation.
The products of the rich upland were here laid at our feet, and it must
be conceded that the plenteous stores of grain, beans, potatoes,
vetches, sesamum, millet, vegetables, such as melons and various garden
herbs, honey, and tobacco, which we were enabled to purchase at Mombiti,
were merited by the members of the long-enduring expedition. The number
of chickens and goats that were slaughtered by the people was enormous.
Long arrears of rewards were due to them for the many signal examples of
worth they had shown; and here I earned anew the flattering appellation
bestowed upon me three years previously in Africa—“The white man with
the open hand”—“Huyu Msungu n’u fungua mikono.”
With the rewards they received, the Wangwana and Wanyamwezi, men, women,
and children, revelled in the delights of repleted stomachs, and the
voice of the gaunt monster, Hunger, was finally hushed. In festive
rejoicings and inordinate fulness we spent three days at Mombiti.
A fresh troop of porters was here engaged to relieve the long-suffering
people, and with renewed spirits and rekindled vigour, and with reserve
stores of luxuries on our shoulders, we plunged into the jungle in
the direction of the Monangah valley and Usiha, in preference to the
ever-troubled route by Usanda, Nguru, and Masari. Mirambo, it was
reported, was also in the neighbourhood of Masari, and hovering about
our path like a phantom.
_Feb. 14._—During the second day’s march from Mombiti, Gardner, one of
the faithful followers of Livingstone during his last journey, succumbed
to a severe attack of typhoid fever. We conveyed the body to camp, and
having buried him, raised a cairn of stones over his grave at the
junction of two roads, one leading to Usiha, the other to Iramba. His
last words were, “I know I am dying. Let my money (370 dollars), which
is in charge of Tarya Topan of Zanzibar, be divided. Let a half be given
to my friend Chumah, and a half be given to these my friends—pointing to
the Wangwana—that they may make the mourning-feast.” In honour of this
faithful, the camp is called after his name—“Camp Gardner.”
A gradual descent from the ridges and wavy upland brought us to the
broad, brown valley of the Leewumbu, or the Monangah river, as the
Wasukuma now called the river. At the ford in this season the Monangah
was 30 yards wide and 3 feet deep, with a current of about a mile an
hour, but discoloured marks high above its present level denote a
considerable rise during the rainy season. A few hills on the south bank
showed the same features of the silicified feldspathic rock visible near
the Gogo stream. Giraffe were numerous, feeding on the dwarf acacia, but
the country was too open to permit my approaching them. However, I
succeeded in dropping a stray springbok in a hunting excursion which I
made in the evening.
On leaving the Monangah, we struck northerly across a pathless country
seamed with elephant tracks, rhinoceros wallows, and gullies which
contained pools of grey muddy water. Four miles from the river, Kirira
Peak bore W.N.W., Usanda west by north, Wanhinni N.N.W., and Samui west
by south. A chain of hill-cones ran from Samui to Wanhinni.
_Feb. 17._—Surmounting a ridge which bounded the valley of the Monangah
on the north, and following its crest westerly, we arrived on the
morning of the 17th of February at Eastern Usiha. When in sight of their
conical cotes, we despatched one of our native guides ahead, to warn the
natives that a caravan of Wangwana was approaching, and to bear messages
of peace and goodwill. But in his absence, one of the Kinyamwezi asses
set up a terrific braying, which nearly created serious trouble. It
appears that on one of his former raids the terrible Mirambo possessed a
Kinyamwezi ass which also brayed, and, like the geese of the Roman
Capitol, betrayed the foe. Hence the natives insisted, despite the
energetic denial of our guide, that this ass must also belong to
Mirambo, and for a short period he was in a perilous state. They seized
and bound him, and would probably have despatched him had not the
village scouts returned laughing heartily at the fright the vicious ass
had caused.
Usiha is the commencement of a most beautiful pastoral country, which
terminates only in the Victoria Nyanza. From the summit of one of the
weird grey rock piles which characterise it, one may enjoy that
unspeakable fascination of an apparently boundless horizon. On all sides
there stretches toward it the face of a vast circle replete with
peculiar features, of detached hills, great crag-masses of riven and
sharply angled rock, and outcropping mounds, between which heaves and
rolls in low, broad waves a green grassy plain whereon feed thousands of
cattle scattered about in small herds.
As fondly as the Wangwana with their suffering vitals lingered over
their meals in the days of plenty at Mombiti, so fondly did I gloat over
this expanding extent, rich in contrasts and pleasing surprises. Fresh
from the tawny plains of Monangah, with its thirsty and sere aspect, I
was as gratified as though I possessed the wand of an enchanter, and had
raised around me the verdant downs of Sussex. I seated myself apart, on
the topmost grey rock. Only my gunbearer was near me, and he always
seemed intuitively to know my moods. I revelled therefore undisturbed in
the bland and gracious prospect. The voices of the Wangwana came to me
now and again faint by distance, and but for this I might, as I sat
there, have lost myself in the delusion that all the hideous past and
beautiful present was a dream.
After the traveller has performed his six hundred miles from the ocean
to Usiha, however phlegmatic he may be, he will surely glow with
pleasure when he views this fair scene of promise. The delicious smell
of cattle and young grass comes up from the plain quick, and reminds
one of home-farm memories, of milk and cheese, and secret dippings
into cream-pots, and from the staked bomas and the hedge-encircled
villages there rise to my hearing the bleating of young calves, and the
lowing of the cows as they looked interested towards the village, and I
could see flocks of kids and goats, and sheep with jealously watchful
shepherd-boys close by—the whole prospect so peaceful and idyllic that
it made a strangely affecting impression on me.
_Feb. 19._—Daybreak of the 19th of February saw the refreshed Expedition
winding up and down the rolling pasture-land, escorted by hundreds of
amiable natives who exchanged pleasant jests with our people, and
laughed recklessly and boisterously to show us that they were glad we
had visited their country. “Come yet again,” said they, as they turned
to go back after escorting us three miles on our way. “Come always, and
you will be welcome.”
We thoroughly enjoyed marching with such a broad prospect on either
hand. We felt free, and for the first time enjoyed something of the
lordly feeling to which it is said man is born, but to which we had
certainly been strangers between the ocean and the grassy plains of
Usukuma. One half the distance, it appears to me, we had ploughed our
way through the lower regions of vegetation—the dense intermeshed tangle
of a full-grown jungle—or we had crawled about like an army of ants,
with the ordinary grasses of the maritime lands, the Luwamberri and the
Monangah plains, towering like a forest of cane above our heads. The
myombo forests of Uveriveri, and wood-clad ridges—drained by the
crystal-clear streams and rivulets which supply the furthest waters to
Egypt’s sacred river—though tolerably open, did not inspire us with such
a large, indescribable sense of freedom as the open short-grass lands in
which we now found ourselves.
A fair idea of the rugged rock-heaps which relieved a landscape that
might otherwise have been monotonous may be obtained from the photograph
of Wezi’s rocks. They are extremely picturesque from their massiveness
and eccentricity, which distance increases and charms into ruined
castles or antique human dwellings.
Villages were numerous between Usiha and Wandui. Sweet springs bubbled
from all sides, especially from the opposing bases of the granite ridges
which, like walls, flank the broad natural avenue, at the upper end of
which stands the capital of the king of Usiha, shaded by glorious baobab
and bowery masses of milk-weed.
_Feb. 20._—As we were marching from Wandui to Mondo, on the 20th of
February, we were once again mistaken by the warlike natives for
Mirambo, but the mistake went no further than war-cries, long, loud, and
melodious, caught up by hundreds of clear voices, and a demonstrative
exhibition of how they would have exterminated us had we been really and
truly Mirambo. In proportion as Mirambo haunts their vicinity, so do the
natives appear to be possessed and disturbed. Wandui and Usiha become
suddenly exercised at seeing their cattle run frightened from some
prowling beast, and immediately the cry of “Mirambo, Mirambo!” is
raised, and from every height the alarming cry is echoed, until from
Usiha to Usanda, and from Masari north to Usmau, the dread name is
repeated. Then two neighbours, finding it was a mistake, quarrel with
each other, and begin fighting, and in the midst of their local war
Mirambo veritably appears, as though from the ground, and attacks both.
North of Mondo, as far as Abaddi, or Baddi—sometimes Abatti—the country
rolled, clear and open, like a treeless park, with scarcely a single
shrub or tree. The grass was only an inch high. The rock-crowned hills
were, however, still frequent features. All the male adults of Abaddi
stalked about stark naked, but their women were clad with stiff skins
and half tanned cowhides. The herds of cattle and flocks of goats and
sheep absolutely whitened the glorious park country.
The following brief list of prices will serve to illustrate this
extraordinary land of plenty:—
_Prices at Abaddi._
1 ox 6 yards of sheeting.
1 goat 2 ” ”
1 sheep 2 ” ”
1 chicken 1 necklace.
6 chickens 2 yards of sheeting.
40 kubaba of Mtama 4 ” ”
_Prices in Ugogo._
1 ox 48 yards of sheeting.
1 goat 12 ” ”
1 sheep 10 ” ”
1 chicken From 5 to 10
necklaces.
6 chickens 12 yards of sheeting.
40 kubaba of Mtama 16 ” ”
The villages of this part of Usukuma are surrounded by hedges of
euphorbias, milk-weed, the juice of which is most acrid, and when a drop
is spattered over such a tender organ as the eye, the pain is almost
intolerable. My poor bull-terrier “Jack,” while chasing a mongoose into
one of these hedges, quite lost the use of one eye.
_Feb. 22._—Our next camp was Marya, fifteen miles north by east Mag.
from Mondo, and 4800 feet above the sea. We were still in view of the
beautiful rolling plain, with its rock-crested hills, and herds of
cattle, and snug villages, but the people, though Wasukuma, were the
noisiest and most impudent of any we had yet met. One of the chiefs
insisted on opening the door of the tent while I was resting after the
long march. I heard the tent-boys remonstrate with him, but did not
interfere until the chief forcibly opened the door, when the bull-dogs
“Bull” and “Jack,” who were also enjoying a well-earned repose, sprang
at him suddenly and pinned his hands. The terror of the chief was
indescribable, as he appeared to believe that the white man in the tent
had been transformed into two ferocious dogs, so little was he prepared
for such a reception. I quickly released him from his position, and won
his gratitude and aid in restoring the mob of natives to a more moderate
temper.
_Feb. 24._—A march of seventeen miles north by west across a waterless
jungle brought us on the 24th to South Usmau. Native travellers in this
country possess native bells of globular form with which, when setting
out on a journey, they ring most alarming though not inharmonious
sounds, to waken the women to their daily duties.
The journey to Hulwa in North Usmau was begun by plunging through a
small forest at the base of some rocky hills which had been distinctly
visible from Marya, thirty-one miles south. A number of monkeys lined
their summits, gazing contemptuously at the long string of bipeds
condemned to bear loads. We then descended into a broad and populous
basin, wherein villages with their milk-weed hedges appeared to be only
so many verdant circlets. Great fragments and heaps of riven granite,
gneiss, and trap rock, were still seen cresting the hills in irregular
forms.
Through a similar scene we travelled to Gambachika in North Usmau, which
is at an altitude of 4600 feet above the sea, and fourteen miles from
Hulwa. As we approached the settlement, we caught a glimpse to the far
north of the mountains of Urirwi, and to the north-east of the Manassa
heights which, we were informed by the natives, formed the shores of the
Great Lake.
_Feb. 27._—On the morning of the 27th of February we rose up early, and
braced ourselves for the long march of nineteen miles, which terminated
at 4 P.M. at the village of Kagehyi.
The people were as keenly alive to the importance of this day’s march,
and as fully sensitive to what this final journey to Kagehyi promised
their wearied frames, as we Europeans. They, as well as ourselves,
looked forward to many weeks of rest from our labours and to an
abundance of good food.
When the bugle sounded the signal to “Take the road,” the Wanyamwezi and
Wangwana responded to it with cheers, and loud cries of “Ay, indeed, ay,
indeed, please God;” and their goodwill was contagious. The natives, who
had mustered strongly to witness our departure, were affected by it, and
stimulated our people by declaring that the lake was not very far off—
“but two or three hours’ walk.”
[Illustration: MNYAMWEZI PAGAZI.]
We dipped into the basins and troughs of the land, surmounted ridge
after ridge, crossed watercourses and ravines, passed by cultivated
fields, and through villages smelling strongly of cattle, by
good-natured groups of natives, until, ascending a long gradual slope,
we heard, on a sudden, hurrahing in front, and then we too, with the
lagging rear, knew that those in the van were in view of the Great Lake!
Frank Pocock impetuously strode forward until he gained the brow of the
hill. He took a long sweeping look at something, waved his hat, and came
down towards us, his face beaming with joy, as he shouted out
enthusiastically with the fervour of youth and high spirits, “I have
seen the Lake, Sir, and it is grand!” Frederick Barker, riding painfully
on an ass, and sighing wearily from illness and the length of the
journey, lifted his head to smile his thanks to his comrade.
Presently we also reached the brow of the hill, where we found the
expedition halted, and the first quick view revealed to us a long broad
arm of water, which a dazzling sun transformed into silver, some 600
feet below us, at the distance of three miles.
A more careful and detailed view of the scene showed us that the hill on
which we stood sloped gradually to the broad bay or gulf edged by a line
of green wavy reeds and thin groves of umbrageous trees scattered along
the shore, on which stood several small villages of conical huts. Beyond
these, the lake stretched like a silvery plain far to the eastward, and
away across to a boundary of dark blue hills and mountains, while
several grey rocky islets mocked us at first with an illusion of Arab
dhows with white sails. The Wanyamwezi struck up the song of triumph:—
Sing, O friends, sing; the journey is ended:
Sing aloud, O friends; sing to the great Nyanza.
Sing all, sing loud, O friends, sing to the great sea;
Give your last look to the lands behind and then turn to the sea.
Long time ago you left your lands,
Your wives and children, your brothers and your friends;
Tell me, have you seen a sea like this
Since you left the great salt sea?
CHORUS.
Then sing, O friends, sing; the journey is ended:
Sing aloud, O friends; sing to this great sea.
This sea is fresh, is good, and sweet;
Your sea is salt, and bad, unfit to drink.
This sea is like wine to drink for thirsty men,
The salt sea—bah! it makes men sick.
Lift up your heads, O men, and gaze around;
Try if you can see its end.
See, it stretches moons away,
This great, sweet, fresh-water sea.
We come from Usukuma land,
The land of pastures, cattle, sheep and goats,
The land of braves, warriors, and strong men,
And lo! this is the far-known Usukuma sea.
Ye friends, ye scorned at us in other days.
Ah, ha! Wangwana. What say ye now?
Ye have seen the land, its pastures and its herds,
Ye now see the far-known Usukuma sea.
Kaduma’s land is just below;
He is rich in cattle, sheep, and goats.
The Msungu is rich in cloth and beads;
His hand is open, and his heart is free.
To-morrow the Msungu must make us strong
With meat and beer, wine and grain.
We shall dance and play the livelong day,
And eat and drink, and sing and play.
I have in the above (as literal a translation as I can render it) made
no attempt at rhyme—nor, indeed, did the young, handsome, and stalwart
Corypheus who delivered the harmonious strains with such startling
effect. The song, though extemporised, was eminently dramatic, and when
the chorus joined in, it made the hills ring with a wild and strange
harmony. Reanimated by the cheerful music, we flung the flags to the
breeze, and filed slowly down the slopes towards the fields of Kagehyi.
[Illustration:
VIEW OF KAGEHYI FROM THE EDGE OF THE LAKE.
(_From a photograph._)
]
About half a mile from the villages we were surprised by seeing hundreds
of warriors decked with feathered head-dresses and armed to the teeth,
advancing on the run towards us, and exhibiting, as they came, their
dexterity with bows and arrows and spears. They had at first been
alarmed at the long procession filing down the hill, imagining that we
were the ubiquitous Mirambo and his force, but, though discovering their
error, they still thought it too good an opportunity to be lost for
showing their bravery, and therefore amused us with this byplay. Sungoro
Tarib, an Arab resident at Kagehyi, also despatched a messenger with
words of welcome, and an invitation to us to make Kagehyi our camp, as
Prince Kaduma, chief of Kagehyi, was his faithful ally.
In a short time we had entered the wretched-looking village, and Kaduma
was easily induced by Sungoro to proffer hospitalities to the strangers.
A small conical hut about 20 feet in diameter, badly lighted, and with a
strong smell of animal matter—its roof swarmed with bold rats, which,
with a malicious persistence, kept popping in and out of their nests in
the straw roof and rushing over the walls—was placed at my disposal as a
store-room. Another small hut was presented to Frank Pocock and Fred
Barker as their quarters.
[Illustration:
FRANK POCOCK.
(_From a photograph by the Author at Kagehyi._)
]
In summing up, during the evening of our arrival at this rude village on
the Nyanza, the number of statute miles travelled by us, as measured by
two rated pedometers and pocket watch, I ascertained it to be 720. The
time occupied—from November 17, 1874, to February 27, 1875, inclusive—
was 103 days, divided into 70 marching and 33 halting days, by which it
will be perceived that our marches averaged a little over 10 miles per
day. But as halts are imperative, the more correct method of
ascertaining the rate of travel would be to include the time occupied by
halts and marches, and divide the total distance by the number of days
occupied. This reduces the rate to 7 miles per diem.
-----
# 7:
“Make war” is the literal translation of _fanya vita_.
CHAPTER VII.
A burzah held—Paying off recruits—Kagehyi becomes a great trading
centre—A Central African “toper”—Prince Kaduma—Hopes of assistance
from him relinquished—The boat ready for sea—No volunteers—Selecting
my crew—The start for the circumnavigation of Lake Victoria.
_Feb. 28._—We all woke up on the morning of the 28th of February with a
feeling of intense relief. There were no more marches, no more bugle
summons to rouse us up for another fatiguing day, no more fear of
hunger—at least for a season.
We Europeans did not rise from bed until 8 A.M., and we then found the
Wangwana and Wanyamwezi still extended at their full lengths on their
mats and goat-skins, and peacefully reposing after their fatigues; and
had I not finally sallied out into the open air at this hour, I believe
that Sungoro and Kaduma, who, by the bye, were inseparable friends,
would, from motives of delicacy, have refrained from paying a morning
call, supposing that I should need many hours of rest.
At 9 A.M. a _burzah_, or levee, was held. First came Frank and Fred—now
quite recovered from fever—to bid me good morning, and to congratulate
themselves and me upon the prospective rest before us. Next came the
Wangwana and Wanyamwezi chiefs, to express a hope that I had slept
well, and after them the bold youths of the Expedition; then came
Prince Kaduma and Sungoro, to whom we were bound this day to render an
account of the journey and to give the latest news from Zanzibar; and,
lastly, the princess and her principal friends—for introductions have
to be undergone in this land as in others. The burzah lasted two hours,
after which my visitors retired to pursue their respective avocations,
which I discovered to be principally confined, on the part of the
natives, to gossiping, making or repairing fishing-nets, hatchets,
canoes, food-troughs, village fences, and huts; and on the part of our
people to arranging plans for building their own grass-huts, being
perfectly content to endure a long stay at Kagehyi.
Though the people had only their own small domestic affairs to engage
their attentions, and Frank and Fred were for this day relieved from
duty, I had much to do—observations to take to ascertain the position of
Kagehyi, and its altitude above the sea; to prepare paper, pens, and ink
for the morrow’s report to the journals which had despatched me to this
remote and secluded part of the globe; to make calculations of the time
likely to be occupied in a halt at Kagehyi, in preparing and equipping
the _Lady Alice_ for sea, and in circumnavigating the great “Nianja,” as
the Wasukuma call the lake. It was also incumbent upon me to ascertain
the political condition of the country before leaving the port and the
camp, that my mind might be at rest about its safety during my
contemplated absence. Estimates were also to be entered upon as to the
quantity of cloth and beads likely to be required for the provisioning
of the expeditionary force during my absence, and as to the amount of
tribute and presents to be bestowed upon the King of Uchambi—of which
Kagehyi was only a small district, and to whom Prince Kaduma was only a
subordinate and tributary. In brief, my own personal work was not begun,
and pages would not suffice to describe in detail the full extent of the
new duties now devolving upon me.
During the afternoon the Wasukuma recruits were summoned to receive
farewell gifts, and nearly all were discharged. Then 13 doti of cloth
were measured for the King of Uchambi, and 10 doti for Prince Kaduma;
and beads were also given in proportion—the expectations of these two
magnates and their favourite wives being thus satisfactorily realised.
These grave affairs were not to be disposed of as mere trivialities, and
occupied me many hours of our second day’s life at Kagehyi. Meanwhile
the Wangwana and Wanyamwezi required me to show my appreciation of their
fidelity to me during the march, and chiefs and men received accordingly
substantial tokens thereof. Besides new cloths to wear, and beads to
purchase luxuries, I was expected to furnish them with meat for a
banquet; and in accordance with their just wishes, six bullocks were
purchased and slaughtered for their benefit. In addition to which, as a
banquet would be rather tame without wine for cheer, twenty gallons of
_pombé_—beer in a state of natural fermentation—were distributed. To
satisfy all which demands and expectations, three full bales of cloth
and 120 lbs. of beads were disbursed.
_March 1-8._—On the evening of the second day, I was rewarded for my
liberality when I saw the general contentment, and heard on all sides
expressions of esteem and renewed loyalty.
Nor were Frank and Fred forgotten, for I gave permission for them to
issue for themselves, each day while in camp, four yards of cloth, or
two fundo of beads, to be expended as they thought fit, over and above
ration money. Small as this may seem, it was really equal to a gift of
4_s._ per day pocket-money. Though they lived on similar food to that
cooked for myself, I observed that they chose to indulge in many things
which I could not digest, or for which I had no appetite, such as
ground-nuts, ripe bananas, plaintains, and parched green corn. Fred
Barker was remarkably partial to these things. This extra pocket-money
also served to purchase a larger quantity of milk, eggs, chickens, and
rice from the Wasukuma and Sungoro. My daily fare at this time consisted
principally of chickens, sweet-potatoes, milk, tea and coffee. Pocock
and Barker varied this diet with rice, with which Sungoro furnished
them, and bread made of Indian corn and millet.
The village of Kagehyi, in the Uchambi district and country of Usukuma,
became after our arrival a place of great local importance. It attracted
an unusual number of native traders from all sides within a radius of
twenty or thirty miles. Fishermen from Ukerewé, whose purple hills we
saw across the arm of the lake, came in their canoes, with stores of
dried fish; those of Igusa, Sima, and Magu, east of us in Usukuma,
brought their cassava, or manioc, and ripe bananas; the herdsmen of
Usmau, thirty miles south of Kagehyi, sent their oxen; and the tribes of
Muanza—famous historically as being the point whence Speke first saw
this broad gulf of Lake Victoria—brought their hoes, iron wire, and
salt, besides great plenty of sweet-potatoes and yams.
Reports of us were carried far along the paths of trade to the countries
contiguous to the highways of traffic, because we were in a land which
had been, from time immemorial, a land of gossip and primitive commerce;
and a small band of peaceful natives, accustomed to travel, might
explore hundreds of square miles in Usukuma without molestation. But
though Unyanyembé, and through it Zanzibar, might receive within a few
months reliable information about our movements, there were countries in
the immediate neighbourhood of Kagehyi whither traders never venture,
which were for ever cut off from the interesting intelligence that there
were three _white_ men on the shores of the lake, who were said to be
most amiable and sociable. Ujiji, far away on Lake Tanganika, might be
set to wondering whether they had come from Masr (Cairo) or from
Zanzibar, but Wirigedi, close at hand here, on Speke Gulf, might still
be in profound ignorance of the arrival. Mtesa of Uganda might prick up
his ears at the gratifying intelligence, and hope they would soon visit
him, while Ukara, though only about twenty-five geographical miles from
Kagehyi, might be excluded for ever from discussing the strange topic.
The natives of Karagwé and their gentle king might be greatly exercised
in their minds with the agreeable news, and wonder whether they, in
their turn, should ever see the white men, and yet Komeh, 300 miles
nearer to us, might only hear of the wonderful event years after our
departure! Thus it is that information is only conveyed along the lines
of traffic, and does not filter into those countries which are
ostracised from common interests and events by the reputed ferocity of
their inhabitants and their jealous hostility to strangers, even though
they may actually border upon the localities where those interests and
events are freely discussed.
Prince Kaduma, truth compels me to state, is a true Central African
“toper”—a naturally amiable man, whose natural amiability might be
increased to enormous proportions, provided that it was stimulated by
endless supplies of pombé. From perpetual indulgence in his favourite
vice, he has already attained to that blear-eyed, thick-tongued,
husky-voiced state from which only months of total abstinence can
redeem a man. In his sober moments—I cannot say hours—which were soon
after he rose in the morning, he pretended to manifest an interest in
his cattle-yard, and to be deeply alive to the importance of doing
something in the way of business whenever opportunities offered. In
fact, he would sometimes go so far as to say to his half-dozen elders
that he had something in view even then—“but we must have a shauri
first.” Becoming exceedingly interested, the elders would invite him
to speak, and instantly assume that wise, thoughtful, grave respect
which you sometimes see in members of Parliament, Congress, Reichstag,
&c. “Ah, but,” Kaduma would say, “does a man work when he is hungry?
Can he talk when he is thirsty?” The elders slily exchange winks and
nods of approval, at which Kaduma bursts into a hoarse chuckle—never a
laugh—for Kaduma is remarkable for possessing the conceit of humour.
Others may laugh at his dry sayings, but he himself never laughs: he
chuckles.
The great jar of froth-topped pombé[8] is then brought up by a naked
youth of fourteen or fifteen years, who is exceedingly careful to plant
the egg-bottomed jar firmly on the ground lest it should topple over.
Beside it is conveniently placed Kaduma’s favourite drinking cup, as
large as a quart measure, and cut out of a symmetrically shaped gourd.
Kaduma is now seated on a favourite low stool, and folds his greasy
Sohari cloth about him, while the elders are seated on either side of
him on wood chips, or axe handles, or rocks. The foaming jar is ready,
and the dusky Ganymede attentive. Kaduma stretches out his hand
languidly—it is all affectation, for Kaduma is really thirsty—and
Ganymede, with both hands, presents the cup kneeling. The pombé being
broached, the valves of the “shauri” are opened. During the hour devoted
to the consumption of the pombé, Kaduma may be said to be rational, and
even interested in business. Withal he is gay, light-hearted, and
pleasant in conversation; grand projects are hinted at; trading
expeditions even as far as Ujiji suggested; a trip to Unyanyembé and
Zanzibar appears to be in serious contemplation with him. But, alas! the
pombé is ended. Kaduma goes to sleep. At three o’clock he expands again
into a creature of intelligence. Two or three pots are exhausted between
3 and 6 P.M., and finally Kaduma reels to his cot like the inebriated
sot he really is. Alas! for the virtues of a naturally intelligent
nature drowned by such intemperance! Alas! for the fine attributes of
manhood conquered by vile indulgences! Alas! for the brains muddled by
such impurities!
It will be apparent, then, that, though the Prince of Kagehyi is a
well-meaning and well-disposed creature, he possessed an infirmity
that rendered him incapable of rendering me that service which he had
himself suggested to me. He promised that he would accompany me in my
exploration of Lake Victoria! It is to be doubted, after acquiring
such a knowledge of his character, whether his intentions could be
fulfilled. Yet he informed me that he had visited Ukerewé, Ururi, and
Ugeyeya, and would, for a consideration, place himself at my disposal.
The consideration was ready, but Kaduma, unfortunately for me, I
saw, could not be ready within a decade! Hopes of his assistance and
influence were therefore relinquished; and, since the chief was not
available, it became evident that none of his people could be obtained
for the service of exploration. Without this insight into Kaduma’s life
and manners, it would have been a matter for fair speculation whether
his weakness and intemperance, or his dread of the vast lake, were the
real causes of his reluctance to accompany me.
The prince was learned in the names of several countries or villages—but
which they were, I was then ignorant. But if every name he repeated to
my interested ears were the names of real countries, then, I began to
think, it might be true, as he himself believed, that the lake was so
large that its exploration would occupy years. Nearly all the Wangwana,
while the _Lady Alice_ was being prepared for sea, were impressed with
the vastness of the enterprise, as Prince Kaduma, his people, Sungoro,
and his slaves—who had really only reached Ururi—sketched it to them
with their superstitious and crude notions of its size. There were, they
said, a people dwelling on its shores who were gifted with tails;
another who trained enormous and fierce dogs for war; another a tribe of
cannibals, who preferred human flesh to all other kinds of meat. The
lake was so large it would take years to trace its shores, and who then
at the end of that time would remain alive? Therefore, as I expected,
there were no volunteers for the exploration of the Great Lake. Its
opposite shores, from their very vagueness of outline, and its people,
from the distorting fogs of misrepresentation through which we saw them,
only heightened the fears of my men as to the dangers which filled the
prospect.
Within seven days the boat was ready, and strengthened for a rough sea
life. Provisions of flour and dried fish, bales of cloth and beads of
various kinds, odds and ends of small possible necessaries were boxed,
and she was declared, at last, to be only waiting for her crew. “Would
any one volunteer to accompany me?” A dead silence ensued. “Not for
rewards and extra pay?” Another dead silence: no one would volunteer.
“Yet I must,” said I, “depart. Will you let me go alone?”
“No.”
“What then? Show me my braves—those men who freely enlist to follow
their master round the sea.”
All were again dumb. Appealed to individually, each said he knew nothing
of sea life; each man frankly declared himself a terrible coward on
water.
“Then, what am I to do?”
Manwa Sera said:—
“Master, have done with these questions. Command your party. All your
people are your children, and they will not disobey you. While you ask
them as a friend, no one will offer his services. Command them, and they
will all go.”
So I selected a chief, Wadi Safeni—the son of Safeni—and told him to
pick out the elect of the young men. Wadi Safeni chose men who knew
nothing of boat life. Then I called Kachéché, the detective, and told
him to ascertain the names of those young men who were accustomed to sea
life, upon which Kachéché informed me that the young guides first
selected by me at Bagamoyo were the sailors of the Expedition. After
reflecting upon the capacities of the younger men, as they had developed
themselves on the road, I made a list of ten sailors and a steersman, to
whose fidelity I was willing to entrust myself and fortunes while
coasting round the Victorian Sea.
Accordingly, after drawing up instructions for Frank Pocock and Fred
Barker on about a score of matters concerning the wellbeing of the
Expedition during my absence, and enlisting for them, by an adequate
gift, the goodwill of Sungoro and Prince Kaduma, I set sail on the 8th
of March, 1875, eastward along the shores of the broad arm of the lake
which we first sighted, and which henceforward is known, in honour of
its first discoverer, as “Speke Gulf.”
-----
# 8:
Native beer, made from fermented grain or coarse flour.
CHAPTER VIII.
Afloat on the lake—We catch a guide—Saramba’s terror—The Shimeeyu—
Pyramid Point—The island of Ukerewé—In the haunts of crocodiles—Shizu
Island—The hippopotami—Ururi—The headlands of Goshi—Bridge Island—
Volcanoes—U-go-weh—the inebriates of Ugamba—Treachery at Maheta—
Primitive man—The art of pleasing—A night at Uvuma—Mobbed by Wavuma—
Barmecide fare—Message from Mtesa—“In the Kabaka’s name”—Camp on Soweh
Island.
_March 8._—Afloat on the waters of Speke Gulf! The sky is gloomy and the
light grey water has become a dull ashen grey; the rocks are bare and
rugged; and the land, sympathising with the gloom above, appears silent
and lonely. The people sigh dolorously, their rowing is as that of men
who think they are bound to certain death, and now and again wistful
looks are thrown towards me as though they expected an order to return.
Their hearts are full of misgivings. Slowly, however, we move through
the dull, dead waters; slowly we pass by the dull grey rocks of Lutari
Point, and still slower do the boatmen row when the rugged rocks shut
off the view of Kagehyi and front them with their bare rude masses.
Five miles brought us to Igusa, a settlement doubtless pleasant
enough under a fair sky, but bearing this afternoon its share of the
universal gloom. Without a guide or interpreter, we bore in for a
little reed-lined creek. A fisherman, with a head of hair resembling
a thick mop, came down to the boat. He had, it seems, visited Kagehyi
two or three days before, and recognised us. A better acquaintance was
soon begun, and ended in his becoming captivated with our promises of
rewards and offering his services as guide. The boatmen were overjoyed;
for the guide, whose name was Saramba, proved to have been one of
Sungoro’s boatmen in some of that Arab’s trading excursions to Ururi.
We passed a cheerless night, for the reeds turned out to be the haunt
of a multitude of mosquitoes, and the air was cold. However, with
Saramba as guide, we promised ourselves better quarters in future.
_March 9._—At 6 A.M., after Saramba’s appearance, we resumed our voyage,
and continued on our way eastward, clinging to the shores of Sima. At 11
A.M. the clouds, which had long been gathering over the horizon to the
north-west, discharged both squall and gale, and the scene soon became
wild beyond description. We steered from the shore, and were soon
involved in the dreadful chaos of watery madness and uproar. The wind
swept us over the fierce waves, the _Lady Alice_ bounding forward like a
wild courser. It lashed the waters into spray and foam, and hurled them
over the devoted crew and boat. With a mere rag presented to the gale,
we drove unresistingly along. Strange islets in the neighbourhood of
Mashakka became then objects of terror to us, but we passed them in
safety and saw the grey hills of Magu far in front of us. The boatmen
cowered to windward: Saramba had collapsed in terror, and had resignedly
covered his moppy head with his loin-cloth. Zaidi Mganda, the steersman,
and myself were the only persons visible above the gunwale, and our
united strengths were required to guide the boat over the raging sea. At
2 P.M. we came in view of the Shimeeyu river, and, steering close to the
little island of Natwari swept round to leeward, and through a calm
water made our way into harbour, opposite the entrance to the river.
_March 10._—The next day was beautiful. The wild waters of yesterday
were calm as those of a pond. The bold hills of Magu, with all their
sere and treeless outlines, stood out in fine relief. Opposite them, at
about 1300 yards distant, were the brush-covered tops of the Mazanza
heights; while between them lay glittering the broad and noble creek
which receives the tribute flood of the Shimeeyu, the extreme southern
reach of Nile waters. The total length of the course of this river, as
laid out on the chart, is 300 miles, which gives the course of the Nile
a length of 4200 miles: thus making it the second longest river in the
world. The creek extends to a considerable distance, and then contracts
to a width of about 400 yards, through which the Monangah, after uniting
with the Luwamberri and the Duma rivers, discharges its brown waters,
under the name of the Shimeeyu, into the lake.
After an examination of these features, we continued our journey along
the coast of Mazanza, which forms the eastern shore of the bay of
Shimeeyu, passing by the boldly rising and wooded hills of Manassa. At 4
P.M. we attempted to land in a small cove, but were driven away by a
multitude of audacious hippopotami, who rushed towards us open-mouthed.
Perceiving that they were too numerous and bold for us, we were
compelled to drop our stone anchors in 40 feet of water, about two miles
from shore.
_March 11._—On the 11th of March, after rowing nearly the whole day
against a head-wind, we arrived at the eastern end of Speke Gulf, which
here narrows to about seven miles. On the southern side Manassa extends
from Mazanza, its coast-line marked by an almost unbroken ridge about
two miles inland, varied here and there by rounded knolls and hills,
from whose base there is a gradual slope covered with woods down to the
water’s edge. The eastern end of the gulf is closed by the land of the
Wirigedi or, as Saramba called them, the Wajika. At the north-eastern
end begins Shahshi, consisting of a group of sterile hills, which, as we
proceed west along the north side of the gulf, sink down into a naked
plain. The Ruana river empties itself into the head of the gulf by two
narrow mouths through a low wooded shore.
_March 12._—On the 12th we continued to coast along Shahshi’s low,
bare plain, margined at the water’s edge by eschinomenæ, and a little
farther inland lined by mimosa, thence past Iramba, a similar country
to Shahshi, until we reached Pyramid Point, so christened from the
shape of its hills, but on running up into the bay (which has its
greatest width at Rugedzi Strait), we found that Pyramid Point really
forms the south-western end of a mountain-range. One of the most
conspicuous objects we saw, as we stood on the uplands of Usmau,
looking towards the N.N.E., was this Pyramid Point, but at that time we
had, of course, only a dim idea of its neighbourhood to the lake.
Near the Point is a group of small islands, the principal being Kitaro,
on which cattle and goats are found. Though the islanders obtain but a
scanty subsistence from the soil, they find reason to congratulate
themselves in that they are safe from the periodical raids made by the
Wajika, or Wirigedi, a tribe unpleasantly distinguished for the length
of their knives and the breadth and weight of their spears. On one of
this group, which was uninhabited, we stayed to cook our midday meal. It
appeared fair and pleasant enough from without—one mass of deepest
verdure, with a cone rising about 100 feet above the lake. Upon
exploring it, we found it to be a heap of gigantic rocks, between which
the deposit of vegetable matter had given birth to a forest of young
trees, the spreading green foliage of which was rendered still more
impervious to sunshine by a multitude of parasitical plants and llianes,
which had woven the whole into as thick and dense a shade as I ever
remember to have seen. Below this mass of tangled branch and leaf the
thermometer descends to 70° Fahr.; without, exposed to the blazing sun,
it ascends to 115° Fahr.
In the evening we camped on a small island in the middle of the bay of
Ukerewé, east of the beautiful isle of Nifuah, which is inhabited and is
the home of an industrious colony subject to the king of Ukerewé.
From the summit of Nifuah we could distinguish the tall trees which gave
shade to our camp and to Kaduma’s village of Kagehyi, across Speke Gulf.
Upon coming down to the water’s edge, we saw nothing but the blue hills,
600 feet high, situated three miles south of Kagehyi; nor, turning our
eyes to the north, could we see anything of the low shore which the
Rugedzi Channel cuts. Standing close to the water at Nifuah, we would
have imagined that Ukerewé was an island separated by a strait about two
miles broad; but turning our boat to the north, a couple of hours’
rowing brought us so near that we could see that the opposing point of
the mainland is joined to the island, or appears to be joined, by a very
low bush-covered neck of land a mile in width, which thus separates the
waters of Speke Gulf from the great body of Lake Victoria. A still
closer examination, however, reveals the fact that this narrow neck is
cut by a shallow channel 6 feet wide and in some places only 3 feet
deep. The ground, though extremely low on each side, is firm and compact
enough; but here and there it is of a boggy nature. Hence it will be
seen that Captain Speke, who called Ukerewé an island, was literally
correct.
_March 13._—On the 13th we enjoyed a fine six-knot breeze, and were able
to make a good day’s work, though we still clung to the shore of Ukerewé
near enough to note clearly the features of the water-line. A glance at
the country of Ukerewé showed it to be exceedingly populous and
extensively cultivated. From Matembé to Yambuyah extends a bold ridge
about 300 feet above the lake, and beyond this point is a deep
indentation, called Ukwya, near the western horn of which we perceived a
group of islets named Kiregi. These are the haunts of an immense number
of crocodiles, and one nest discovered here contained fifty-eight eggs.
At almost every step I took, when walking round one of the reed-lined
islets, a specimen of the ugly Saurian tribe sprang with a startling
rush into the lake. There appeared also to be as many monitors as there
were crocodiles in this infested islet, and all round me, from the
little creeks, and sometimes in very close proximity, lowed the
hippopotami. I shot one of the monitors, and it measured 7 feet from the
tip of the snout to the tip of the tail. One of the boat’s crew skinned
it, but, not having means or time to preserve it, we were finally
compelled to abandon our treasure. Being extremely keen-eyed and agile
in its movements, the monitor is a valuable auxiliary to the more
indolent crocodile, which it wakes frequently from slumber, and by its
impetuous rush at sight of the intruder saves it from becoming a prey to
the hunter. In return for its services the greater monster furnishes it
with many a delicious meal on its eggs. The enormous number of smaller
lizards, skinks, and geckos, which these islets also sustain, prove that
the monitors have abundant means of supplies.
From here we sailed round the coast of Wiru, and leaving about four
miles on our left the Kuneneh group, we steered N.N.W. Mag. for the
Irangara Islands, at the north-western extremity of Ukerewé, the shore
presenting to our view throughout only a low hill range clothed with
woods. Leaving Irangara behind us, we emerged in view of the vast
amplitude, as though of ocean, of the Victoria Nyanza.[9]
After sailing past the Kamassi and Kindevi islets, we rounded the hilly
point of Masonga, and beheld on our right, as far as Shizu Island, a
broad bay, bounded by a crescent-shaped ridge, springing some 300 feet
above the lake, and extensively wooded, while on our left lay the large
and populous island of Ukara, peopled by an intensely superstitious
colony, who cherish the most devout faith in charms and witchcraft.
_March 16._—As we rowed past Shizu Island, we beheld the table-topped
mountain of Majita rising, massive and grand, to the eastward. On the
16th of March we encamped on one of the bird-rocks about three miles
from the base of Majita, which rises probably between 2000 and 3000
feet above the lake. From the northern angle of Majita we sailed,
on a north-east course for the district of Wye, across a deep bay
distinguished only for the short hill range of Usambara, between which,
on either side, extends the low and almost treeless plain of Shahshi to
the waters of Speke Gulf.
From Wye we coasted along populous Ururi. The country appears well
cultivated, and villages are numerous. Some of the Waruri fishermen
informed us we should be eight years circumnavigating the lake! Numerous
rocky islands, almost all uninhabited at this period, stud the
neighbourhood of the mainland, and the coast is so indented with deep
bays and inlets that it requires very careful attention to survey it.
Its features are similar to those of Usukuma, namely, swelling and
uneven lines of hills, sometimes with slopes extending for three or four
miles, more often, as in the case of nearly all the headlands, with
points springing abrupt and sheer from the water’s edge. Wherever the
ridges rise gradually and at a distance from the lake, special
advantages for cultivation appear to obtain, for I have noted that all
such sites were thickly populated by the tribes of Ururi, Ukerewé, Sima,
Magu, or Uchambi. A few of the Burdett-Coutts Islands exhibited traces
of having been the resort of fugitives, for on several of them we
discovered bananas and other garden plants, and ruined huts. We struck
across the bay to Ikungu, and thence across another to picturesque Dobo,
nearly opposite Irieni.
_March 17._—Having arrived at anchorage at dusk, we were led to seek
shelter under the lee of one of the outlying rocks of Dobo. We had
moored both by bow and stern, to prevent being swept by the restless
surf against the rocks, but about midnight a storm arose from the
eastward, exposing us to all its fury. We were swept with great force
against the rocks, and should inevitably have been lost had not the
oars, which we had lashed outside the boat as fenders, protected it.
Through the pelting rain, and amid the thunders of the aroused waves
which lashed the reef, we laboured strenuously to save ourselves, and
finally succeeded in rowing to the other lee.
Externally, the aspect of these islands on the coast of Ururi is very
rugged, bare, and unpromising, but within are many acres of cultivable
soil covered with green grass, and the hippopotami, which abound in the
neighbourhood of these deserted, grassy islands, here find luxurious
pasturage. Like the tribes on the mainland, these amphibiæ appear to
possess also their respective boundaries and their separate haunts. The
hippopotami of Lake Victoria, moreover, are an excessively belligerent
species, and the unwary voyager, on approaching their haunts, exposes
himself to danger. We were frequently chased by them; and as the boat
was not adapted for a combat with such pachyderms, a collision would
have been fatal to us. The settlements at Irieni possess large herds of
cattle, but the soil does not seem to be highly cultivated. In this
respect the people appear to resemble in character the Watusi in
Unyamwezi, who live only on the milk of their cattle, and such grain as
they are enabled to obtain by its sale.
_March 18._—Suspecting, after leaving Irieni, and approaching Mori Bay,
that a river of considerable importance emptied into it, we paid
particular attention to every indentation on its uneven coast; but on
arriving at a lofty though small island at the eastern extremity, and
climbing to its summit 150 feet above the lake, we saw that the river
was small, and that its course was from south of east. Observation
Island was rich in plants, though only a few hundred yards in length.
The wild pine-apple, mimosas, acacia, thorn, gum, vines, euphorbias,
eschinomenæ, llianes, water-cane, and spear-grass flourished with a
luxuriance quite astonishing. As we passed Utiri, we observed that the
natives were much interested in our boat, and some fishermen whom we
encountered fell into ecstasies of laughter when they saw the novel
method we adopted for propelling her. They mocked us good-naturedly, and
by their gestures seemed to express contempt for the method in question,
as not being equal to paddling. The rudder and its uses also excited
unusual astonishment, and when the sail was hoisted, they skurried away
as though it were an object of terror.
_March 19._—After leaving the hilly coast of Utiri, the lowlands of
Shirati and Mohruru rose into view, and the black mountain mass of
Ugeyeya appeared to the eastward at the distance of about twenty miles.
To the west of it, grim and lofty, loomed the island of Ugingo. Clusters
of grey, rocky islets stud the lake along the coast of Shirati, while
from the water’s edge, to a distance of five or six miles, an
uninteresting plain, unenlivened by forest or verdure, slopes slowly up
to where the land breaks into groups and masses of irregular hills. This
continues to the mouth of a river which the natives call Gori, and which
terminates the country of Ururi. On the right bank of the river begins
mountainous Ugeyeya, the south-western extremity of which runs out into
the lake like a promontory.
Gori is an important and powerful river during the rainy season. It is
said to rise in a north-easterly direction near Kavi. Far inland on the
east, to a distance of twenty-five days’ journey, the country is
reported to be a continuous plain, dotted with low hills and containing
water only in pools. About fifteen days’ journey from the lake, the
natives also report a region wherein are “low hills which discharge
smoke and sometimes fire from their tops.” This district is called Susa,
and is a portion of the Masai Land. All concurred in stating that no
stream runs north, but that all waters for at least twenty days’ journey
enter the lake. Beyond that distance lies a small lake which discharges
a stream eastward—supposed by me to be the Pangani.
_March 21._—On the 21st of March we were passing under the lee—for the
wind blew then from the north-east, off the land—of the dark headlands
of Goshi, which at first rise steeply from the lake 900 feet and, later,
receding from the lake, attain a height of from 2000 to 3000 feet. On
our left towered the tall, tree-clad island of Ugingo, extending far to
the north-west. Thin blue columns of smoke rising from the depths of its
woods announced the presence of man, probably fishermen or fugitives
from the mainland. Judging from what I observed of the slopes of this
extremity of Ugeyeya, I should say that much of this portion is
uninhabited. Rounding the point that confronts the island of Ugingo, we
passed between two more uninhabited islands, and then the dome-like
hills of Wakuneh burst upon our view. Our impression of the land on this
side was that it was a pastoral country, and more thickly populated, for
smoke curled more frequently from above depressions and sheltered
positions.
At evening we camped on Bridge Island, so named from a natural bridge of
basaltic rock which forms an irregular arch of about 24 feet in length
by about 12 feet in depth, and under which we were able to pass from one
side of the island to the other. The island is covered with brushwood
and tall grass, and in the interstices of the rocks, where the vegetable
deposit was of great depth, grew several fine mangroves. The height is
about 50 feet above the lake, and from its summit we obtained a fine
view of Ugingo Island, brooding in its gloomy solitude, and of the steep
and high ranges of Ugeyeya, with the level plains of Wagansu and Wigassi
extending eastward. To the west stretched an apparently boundless sea,
its face ruffled by a strong breeze, and farther northward still loomed
upward unknown lands, their contour broken now by rounded domes and
again by sharp cones.
[Illustration: BRIDGE ISLAND.]
_March 22._—The number of islands encountered next day proved so
troublesome to us that we were compelled to creep cautiously along the
shore. As we neared Nakidimo, we observed the water change from its
usual clear grey colour to that of a rich brown, and, seeing a creek
close by, felt fully assured that we had discovered some important
river. As we entered, the creek widened and disclosed picturesque
features of outlined hill and wooded slope. We pulled steadily to its
farther extremity, but the stream which entered here was small, and
oozed through a reedy marsh. We endeavoured for an hour to induce a
canoe with three fishermen in it to approach, but all we could make out
from Saramba, who, I fear, did not understand them, was that the name of
the country was Ugoweh, which sounded so like _You go ’way_ that I
declined accepting it, until the natives shouted out still more clearly
and emphatically, “U-go-weh.” It was evident, however, that these
natives spoke a language that our guide from the south did not quite
comprehend. We continued our keen inspection of the numerous
indentations from Ugoweh (?) to Nakidimo Creek, into which an important
stream debouches. The hippopotami were numerous, and as bold as those of
Speke Gulf.
Emerging once more into the lake, we anchored about a mile from the
shore in 6 fathoms, and found that there was a current of about half a
knot setting westward. At 2 P.M. we hoisted sail, and with a fair wind
were able to hug the mainland and make good progress, within view of a
very populous and extensively cultivated shore. This was the land of
Maheta, we were told, and the same which we had sighted from the summit
of Bridge Island. We flew away with a bellying sail along the coast of
Maheta, where we saw a denser population and more clusters of large
villages than we had beheld elsewhere. We thought we would make one more
effort to learn of the natives the names of some of these villages, and
for that purpose steered for a cove on the western shore. We anchored
within 50 yards, and so paid out our cable that only a few feet of deep
water separated us from the beach. Some half-dozen men, wearing small
land-shells above their elbows and a circle of them round their heads,
came to the brink. With these we opened a friendly conversation, during
which they disclosed the name of the country as “Mahata” or “Maheta” in
Ugeyeya; but more they would not communicate unless we would land. We
prepared to do so, but the numbers on the shore increased so fast that
we were compelled to pull off again until they should moderate their
excitement and make room. They seemed to think we were about to pull off
altogether, for there suddenly appeared out of the bush on each side of
the spot where we had intended to land such a host of spears that we
hoisted sail, and left them to try their treachery on some other boat or
canoe more imprudent than ours. The discomfited people were seen to
consult together on a small ridge behind the bush lining the lake, and
no doubt they thought we were about to pass close to a small point at
the north end of the cove, for they shouted gleefully at the prospect of
a prize; but, lowering sail, we pulled to windward, far out of the reach
of bow or sling, and at dusk made for a small island to which we moored
our boat, and there camped in security.
_March 24._—From our little island off Maheta, we sailed at the dawn of
day towards the low shores, and were making good progress, when we
bumped over the spine of a rising hippopotamus, who, frightened by this
strange and weighty object on his back, gave a furious lunge, and shook
the boat until we all thought she would be shaken to pieces. The hippo,
after this manifestation of disgust, rose a few feet astern, and loudly
roared his defiance; but after experiencing his great strength, we rowed
away hard from his neighbourhood.
About 10 A.M. we found ourselves abreast of the cones of Manyara, and
discovered the long and lofty promontory which had attracted our
attention ever since leaving Maheta to be the island of Usuguru,
another, though larger copy of Ugingo. Through a channel two miles broad
we entered the bay of Manyara, bounded on the east by the picturesque
hills of that country, on the north by the plain of Ugana, and on the
west by Muiwanda and the long, narrow promontory of Chaga. This bay
forms the extreme north-east corner of Lake Victoria, but strangers,
travelling by land, would undoubtedly mistake it for a separate lake, as
Usuguru, when looked at from this bay, seems to overlap the points of
Chaga and Manyara.
About six miles from the north-eastern extremity of the bay, we anchored
on the afternoon of the 24th of March, about 100 yards from the village
of Muiwanda. Here we found a people speaking the language of Usoga. A
good deal of diplomacy was employed between the natives and ourselves
before a friendly intercourse was established, but we were finally
successful in inducing the natives to exchange vegetable produce and a
sheep for some of the blue glass beads called _Mutunda_. Neither men nor
women wore any covering for their nakedness save a kirtle of green
banana-leaves, which appeared to me to resemble in its exceeding
primitiveness the fig-leaf costume of Adam and Eve. The men were
distinguished, besides, by the absence of the upper and lower front
teeth, and by their shaven heads, on which were left only irregular
combs or crescents of hair on the top and over the forehead. While we
were negotiating for food, a magnificent canoe, painted a reddish brown,
came up from the western side of the village, but, despite the loud
invitations tendered to them, the strangers kept on their way and
proceeded up the bay of Manyara.
_March 25._—On the 25th, refreshed by the meat and vegetables we had
purchased, we began our voyage along the northern coast of Lake
Victoria, and, two hours later, were in conversation with the natives of
Chaga or Shaga, who informed us that Murambo, king of Usuguru, was also
king of Chaga. I am unable to decide whether Chaga is a promontory or an
island, but I believe that there is a narrow channel navigable for
canoes (of the same nature as the Rugedzi[10] Channel) separating Chaga
from the mainland. Between its southern point and Usuguru Island, there
is a strait about three-quarters of a mile wide, through which we passed
to Fisherman’s Island, where we rested for our noonday meal. At 2 P.M.
we arrived, after an hour’s rowing, near Ngevi Island, and when close to
it, we were compelled to take shelter from a furious nor’-wester.
We had been at anchor scarcely ten minutes before we saw a small canoe,
paddled by two men, boldly approach us from the shore of Ugamba, distant
about a mile and a half on our right or to the east of us. In our
mildest accents we hailed them, and, after a protracted interval
employed by them in curiously scanning us, they permitted us to hear the
sound of their voices. But nothing would induce them to come nearer than
about 100 yards. In the midst of these vain efforts to win their
confidence, a canoe similar in form and colour to that which had won our
admiration at Muiwanda advanced towards us. A false prow projected
upward, curving in the shape of a bent elbow, from the tip of which to
the top of the bow of the canoe was strung a taut line, and along this
was suspended some fine grass, which waved like a mane as she charged
up, bold and confident, propelled by forty paddlers. Half of this
number, who were seated forward, sprang up when they came within 50
yards, and, seizing long tufted lances and shields, began to sway them
menacingly. As we made no demonstration of resistance, they advanced
cautiously, and when within 20 yards, swerved aside, wheeling round us
in a defiant style.
Finally we broke silence, and demanded who they were, and why they came
up as though they would attack us. As they did not understand either
Kingwana, Kisukuma, or Kinyamwezi, one of my boatmen attempted Kiganda,
a little of which they appeared to understand; and by this means we
opened a conversation. They edged towards us a little nearer, and ended
by ranging their long canoe alongside of our boat. Our tame, mild
manners were in striking contrast to their bullying, overbearing, and
insolent demeanour. The paddlers, half of whom were intoxicated, laid
their hands with familiar freedom upon everything. We still smiled, and
were as mild and placable as though anger and resentment could never
enter our hearts. We were so courteous, indeed, that we permitted them
to handle our persons with a degree of freedom which to them appeared
unaccountable—unless we were so timid that we feared to give offence. If
we had been so many sheep, we could not have borne a milder or a more
innocent aspect. Our bold friends, reeling and jostling one another in
their eagerness to offend, seized their spears and shields, and began to
chant in bacchanalian tones a song that was tipsily discordant. Some
seized their slings and flung stones to a great distance, which we
applauded. Then one of them, under the influence of wine, and spirits
elated by the chant, waxed bolder, and looked as though he would aim at
myself, seated observant but mute in the stern of my boat. I made a
motion with my hand as though deprecating such an action. The sooty
villain seemed to become at once animated by an hysteric passion, and
whirled his stone over my head, a loud drunken cheer applauding his
boldness.
Perceiving that they were becoming wanton through our apparently mild
demeanour, I seized my revolver and fired rapidly into the water, in the
direction the stone had been flung, and the effect was painfully
ludicrous. The bold, insolent bacchanals at the first shot had sprung
overboard, and were swimming for dear life to Ngevi, leaving their canoe
in our hands. “Friends, come back, come back; why this fear?” cried out
our interpreter; “we simply wished to show you that we had weapons as
well as yourselves. Come, take your canoe; see, we push it away for you
to seize it.” We eventually won them back with smiles. We spoke to them
sweetly as before. The natives were more respectful in their demeanour.
They laughed, cried out admiringly; imitated the pistol shots; “Boom,
boom, boom,” they shouted. They then presented me with a bunch of
bananas! We became enthusiastic admirers of each other.
Meantime, two more large canoes came up, also bold and confident, for
they had not yet been taught a lesson. These new-comers insisted that we
should visit their king Kamoydah. We begged to be excused. They became
still more urgent in their request. We said it was impossible; they were
strangers, and not very well behaved; if they wished to barter with us,
they could load their canoes and come to Ngevi, where we would be happy
to exchange beads or cloth for their articles. Three other canoes were
now seen approaching. We sat, however, extremely still, patient, and
placable, and waited for them. The united voices of the 130 natives made
a terrible din, but we endured it with saintly meekness and the
fortitude of stoics—for a period. We bore the storm of entreaties mixed
with rude menace until instinct warned me that it was becoming
dangerous. I then delivered some instructions to the boat’s crew, and,
nodding to the shore, affected to surrender with an indifferent grace.
They became suddenly silent. We lifted the stone anchor, and took to our
oars, steering to the broken water, ruffled by the nor’-wester, beyond
the shelter of the island, convoyed by the six canoes. We accompanied
them some hundreds of yards, and then, suddenly hoisting sail, swept by
them like an arrow. We preferred the prospect of the lone watery expanse
to the company of the perverse inebriates of Ugamba.
We continued sailing for half an hour, and as it was then near sunset,
dropped anchor in 75 feet of water. The wind, which had swept in strong
gusts from the north-west, suddenly fell, for in the north-east the
aspect of the sky had long been threatening. Clouds surged up in thick
masses from that direction, and cast a gloom over the wood-clothed
slopes and crests of Usuguru, which became almost as black as a velvet
pall, while the lake grew as quiet as though vitrified into glass. Soon
the piled up cloud-mass grew jagged, and a portentous zigzag line of
deep sable hue ran through its centre, from which the storm seemed to
issue. I requested the crew to come farther aft, and, fastening a double
rope to the stone anchor, prepared every mug and baler for the rain with
which we were threatened. The wind then fell, as though from above, upon
our bowed heads with an overpowering force, striving against the
resistance which it met, as if it would bear us down to the bottom of
the lake, and then, repelled by the face of the water, it brushed it
into millions of tiny ripples. The temperature fell to 62° Fahr., and
with this sudden cold down dropped a severe shower of hailstones of
great size, which pelted us with great force, and made our teeth
chatter. After this the rain fell in sheets, while the lightning blazed,
preceding the most dreadful thunder-claps I remember to have ever heard.
The rain, indeed, fell in such quantities that it required two men for
each section to keep the boat sufficiently buoyant to ride the crest of
the waves. The crew cried out that the boat was sinking—that, if the
rain continued in such volume, nothing could save us. In reply, I only
urged them to bale her out faster.
The sable mass of Usuguru—as I observed by the bars of intense light
which the lightning flashed almost every second—was still in front, and
I knew, therefore, that we were not being swept very fast to sea. Our
energies were wholly devoted to keeping our poor pelted selves afloat,
and this occupied the crew so much that they half forgot the horrors of
the black and dismal night. For two hours this experience lasted, and
then, unburdening our breasts with sighs of gladness not unmixed with
gratitude, we took our anchor on board, and stole through the darkness
to the western side of Ngevi Island, where, after kindling a fire, we
dried our clothes and our wetted bodies, and, over a hot potful of
Liebig, affected to laugh at our late critical position.
_March 26._—In the morning the world appeared re-born, for the sky was a
bluish crystal, the shores looked as if fresh painted in green, the lake
shone like burnished steel, the atmosphere seemed created for health.
Glowing with new life, we emerged out of our wild arbour of cane and
mangrove to enjoy the glories of a gracious heaven, and the men relieved
their grateful breasts by chanting loudly and melodiously one of their
most animating boat-songs.
As we rowed in this bright mood across the bay of Ugamba, we noticed a
lofty mount which I should judge to be fully 3000 feet above the lake,
towards the north-east. From the natives of Usamu Island, we obtained
the name of Marsawa for this the most conspicuous feature of the
neighbourhood. After obtaining a clear meridian altitude, on a small
island between Usamu and Namungi, we steered for the latter. The art of
pleasing was never attempted with such effect as at Namungi. Though we
had great difficulty in even obtaining a hearing, we persisted in the
practice of the art with all its amusing variations, until our
perseverance was finally rewarded. A young fisherman was despatched to
listen from the shore, but the young wretch merely stared at us. We
tossed into his canoe a bunch of beads, and he understood their
signification. He shouted out to his fellows on the shore, who were
burning with curiosity to see closer the strange boat and strange crew,
amongst whom they saw a man who was like unto no man they had ever seen
or heard, or dreamed of.
A score of canoes loaded with peaceful, harmless souls came towards
us, all of whom begged for beads. When we saw that they could be
inspired to talk, we suggested to them that, in return for food,
abundance of beads might be obtained. They instantly raced for the
banana and plantain groves in great excitement. We were so close that
we could hear the heavy clusters falling under the native machetes,
and within a short time so many bunches were held out to us that we
might have sunk under the waves had we purchased all. After storing a
sufficient quantity to provision us for three days, of bananas, fowls
and eggs, and sweet maramba or banana wine, and eliciting the names
of the various islands, capes, and most prominent hills, we attempted
to resume our journey. But the people, upon whom our liberality had
produced too strong an effect, would not permit us to do so until
we had further celebrated our acquaintance with copious draughts of
their delicious wine. The Wangwana would have been delighted to have
exhausted many days in such a fascinating life, but the coast of the
Victoria was lengthy, the winds not always favourable, and we had a
large number of friends in Usukuma who might become restless, were we
too long absent. We therefore set sail, convoyed a long distance by
about thirty canoes, manned by light-hearted guileless creatures in an
extreme state of enjoyment and redundant hilarity.
This was altogether a remarkable scene; our exploring boat, with its
lug-sail set, dragging about thirty canoes, whose crews were all
intoxicated, and whose good-nature was so excessive as to cause them to
supply our boat’s crew with copious quantities of their wine, until all
were in an uncommonly joyous mood. It would be well worth describing in
detail, but I am compelled to be brief. After sailing in company a few
miles, we finally freed ourselves from our hospitable entertainers, and
steering across the channel to the island opposite Neygano, coasted
along its well-wooded shores. Perceiving a deep bay farther west, we
entered it, and near the extreme eastern end of Uvuma anchored about 150
yards off the village of Mombiti.
Had we been better acquainted with the character of the Wavuma, we
probably should have been less inclined to visit their shores, but,
ignorant of their ferocity, and zealous to perform our duties, we
persevered in attempting to open intercourse with this tribe. We were,
however, prudent enough not to rush into danger by taking it for granted
that most savages were a guileless, amiable set, who would never dream
of injuring or molesting strangers—and this circumspection most likely
saved our lives.
After a few minutes’ distant conversation, the Wavuma approached us,
and we were enabled to purchase fuel for cooking, making a liberal
payment. We hoped they would be induced to sell us food also, not that
we were really in need of it, but because it furnished us with another
motive for continuing our intercourse, and enlarged our opportunities
for studying their nature and habits, and obtaining names for the
localities around. We had numerous visitors, who appeared to be fine,
manly, well-made fellows, but nothing would induce them to bring the
smallest quantity of food for sale. We therefore resignedly forbore
from troubling them, but inspected them with as much interest as they
inspected us. They were evidently people with abundant self-confidence,
from the cool complacency with which they regarded us. Their canoes
were beautiful specimens, and descriptions and pictures of them will
be given hereafter. The shores were bold, irregular in outline, and
clothed with a luxuriance of vegetation and many tall trees, between
which were seen the banana groves, their pale green colour strongly
contrasting with the darker tints of the forest foliage.
The night that followed was wild. At sunset the temperature fell to 70°
Fahr., and the wind was charged with a cold drizzle. Being in rather an
exposed position, we moved our anchorage near the mouth of the Munulu
river, and not a minute too soon, for the wind increased to a gale; and
the gale, heralded by a short-lived squall, brought hailstones with it.
Preparing to pass the night here, we covered the boat with a sail, under
which the sailors slept, though the watch, frequently relieved, was
obliged to maintain a strict look-out. Throughout the long hours of
darkness, the gale maintained its force; the boat pitched and groaned,
and the rain fell in torrents; the seas frequently tossed capfuls of
water into us, so that, under such circumstances, we enjoyed no rest.
_March 27._—By morning the gale had subsided, and the heavy, sluggish
waves were slumbering. After waiting to cook our morning meal, and
assisting the restoration of animal heat with draughts of Liebig’s
extract liquefied, we resumed our journey along the southern coast of
Uvuma about 8 A.M.
Upon leaving the bay of Mombiti, we were compelled to pass by a point of
land closely covered with tall grass, whither we saw a large force of
natives rush to take up advantageous positions. As we slowly neared the
point, a few of them advanced to the rocks, and beckoned us to approach
nearer. We acceded so far as to approach within a few feet, when the
natives called out something, and immediately attacked us with large
rocks. We sheered off immediately, when a crowd emerged from their
hiding-place with slings, with which they flung stones at us, striking
the boat and wounding the steersman, who was seated next to me. To
prevent further harm, I discharged my revolver rapidly at them, and one
of the natives fell: whereupon the others desisted from their attack,
and retreated into the grass, leaving us to pursue our way unmolested.
Again edging close to the shore, we continued our investigations of the
numerous indentations. The island rose with steep, grassy, treeless
slopes to a height of about 300 feet above the lake. Herds of cattle
were abundant, and flocks of goats grazed on the hillsides. The villages
were many, but unenclosed, and consisted of a few dome-like huts, from
which we inferred that the Wavuma were a people who could well defend
themselves. At this time the lake was as still as a pond; no clouds hung
over any part of the horizon; the sky was of a steel-blue colour, out of
which the sun shone with true tropical fervour. But the atmosphere was
not clear; a light vapour rose out of the lake, trembling in the heat,
rendering islands but five miles distant dim and indistinct.
Arrived in the channel between the tawny, grass-clad island of Bugeyeya
and that of Uvuma, we steered midway, that we might take compass
bearings. From a small cove in the Uvuma shores, abreast of us, emerged
quite a fleet of canoes, thirteen in number. The more advanced held up a
handful of sweet-potatoes to our view, and we ceased rowing, but left
the sail hoisted, which, with the very slight breeze then blowing,
drifted us westward about half a knot an hour.
The Wavuma were permitted to range alongside, and we saw that they were
fully armed with spear and shield. We offered several kinds of beads for
the potatoes they had offered to sell, but with a gesture of contempt
they refused everything, and from their actions and manner we became
soon convinced that they had manned their canoes for other purposes than
barter; besides, they possessed only about twenty potatoes, which,
singularly enough, were all in the first canoe. Strange to say, also,
the men of the first canoe were, though disinclined to sell, moderate in
their behaviour; but their temper changed as soon as their comrades had
arrived, and had taken up their positions in front of our boat, blocking
our progress through the water. The Wavuma, now emboldened by their
numbers, waxed noisy, then insolent, and finally aggressive. They seized
one thing after another with a cunning dexterity, which required all our
attention to divine their purpose; and while we were occupied with the
truculent rabble in our front, a movement of which we were unaware was
being made successfully at the stern; but the guide, Saramba, catching
sight of a thief, warned me to cast my eyes behind, and I detected him
in the act of robbery. Becoming assured by this time that the Wavuma had
arrived in such numbers for the sole purpose of capturing what appeared
to them an apparently easy prey, and their manœuvres were evidently
intended to embarrass us and distract our attention, I motioned them to
depart with my hand, giving orders at the same time to the boat’s crew
to make ready their oars. This movement, of necessity, caused them to
declare their purposes, and they manifested them by audaciously laying
their hands on the oars, and arresting the attempts of the boat’s crew
to row. Either we were free or we were not. If yet free men, with the
power to defend our freedom, we must be permitted to continue our voyage
on the sea without let or hindrance. If not free men, we had first to be
disarmed. I seized my gun, and motioned them again to depart. With a
loud, scornful cry they caught up their spears and shields, and prepared
to launch their weapons. To be saved, we must act quickly, and I fired
over their heads; and as they fell back from the boat, I bade my men
pull away. Forming a line on each side of us, about 30 yards off, they
flung their spears, which the boat’s crew avoided by dropping into the
bottom of the boat. The canoes astern clapped their hands gleefully,
showing me a large bunch of _Mutunda_ beads which had been
surreptitiously abstracted from the stern of the boat. I seized my
repeating rifle and fired in earnest, to right and left. The fellow with
the beads was doubled up, and the boldest of those nearest to us was
disabled. The big rifle, aimed at the waterline of two or three of the
canoes, perforated them through and through, which compelled the crews
to pay attention to their sinking crafts, and permitted us to continue
our voyage into Napoleon Channel and to examine the Ripon Falls.[11] On
an uninhabited point of Usoga, near the falls, we encamped; and on the
29th of March crossed the channel, and coasted along Uganda between
numerous islands, the largest of which are densely inhabited.
At Kiwa Island we rested for the day, and were received with the
greatest cordiality by the chief, who sent messengers to the island of
Keréngé, a distance of three miles, to purchase bananas and jars of
maramba wine, for the guest, as he said, of the _Kabaka_ Mtesa. As it
was the first time for twenty-two days that we had lived with natives
since leaving Kagehi we celebrated, as we were in duty bound, our
arrival among friends.
_March 30._—The next day, guided and escorted by the chief, we entered
Ukafu, where we found a tall handsome young Mtongoleh in command of the
district, before whom the chief of Kiwa Island made obeisance as before
a great lord. The young Mtongoleh, though professing an ardent interest
in us, and voluble of promises, treated us only to Barmecide fare after
waiting twenty-four hours. Perceiving that his courtesies, though
suavely proffered, failed to satisfy the cravings of our jaded stomachs,
we left him still protesting enormous admiration for us, and still
volubly assuring us that he was preparing grand hospitalities in our
honour.
I was staggered when I understood in its full extent the perfect art
with which we had been duped. “Could this be Central Africa,” I asked
myself, “wherein we find such perfect adepts in the art of deception?
But two days ago the savagery of the land was intense and real, for
every man’s hand was raised in ferocity against the stranger. In the
land next adjoining we find a people polite, agreeable, and professing
the warmest admiration for the stranger, but as inhospitable as any
hotel-keeper in London or New York to a penniless guest!”
At a little village in the bay of Buka we discovered we were premature
in our judgment. The Mtongoleh at this place invited us to his village,
spread out before us a feast of new as well as clotted milk, mellow and
ripe bananas, a kid, sweet-potatoes, and eggs, and despatched a
messenger instantly to the _Kabaka_ Mtesa to announce the coming of a
stranger in the land, declaring, at the same time, his intention not to
abandon us until he had brought us face to face with the great monarch
of Equatorial Africa, in whom, he smilingly assured us, we should meet a
friend, and under whose protection we might sleep secure.
_April 1._—We halted one more day to enjoy the bounteous fare of the
chief of Buka. My admiration for the land and the people steadily
increased, for I experienced with each hour some pleasing civility.
The land was in fit accord with the people, and few more interesting
prospects could Africa furnish than that which lovingly embraces the
bay of Buka. From the margin of the lake, lined by waving water-cane,
up to the highest hill-top, all was verdure—of varying shades. The
light green of the elegant matete contrasted with the deeper tints of
the various species of fig; the satin-sheeny fronds of the graceful
plantains were overlapped by clouds of the pale foliage of the
tamarind; while between and around all, the young grass of the pastured
hillsides spreads its emerald carpet. In free, bold, and yet graceful
outline, the hills shut in the scene, swelling upward in full dome-like
contour, here sweeping round to enclose within its hollow a gorgeous
plantain-grove, there projecting boldly into abrupt, steep headlands,
and again receding in a succession of noble terraces into regions as
yet unexplored by the white man. One village had a low pebbly beach,
that ran in a sinuous light-grey line between the darker grey face
of the lake and the living perennial green of a banana plantation. I
imagined myself fallen into an estate which I had inherited by right
divine and human, or at least I felt something akin to that large
feeling which heirs of unencumbered broad lands may be supposed to
feel, and attributed such an unusual feeling to an attack of perfect
digestion, and a free, unclogged, and undisturbed liver.
_April 2._—On the 2nd of April we proceeded, in an amiable,
light-hearted mood, the favourites both of men and nature, along the
beautiful shore separating Buka Bay from Kadzi Bay, and halted about
noon at the village of Kirudo, where we experienced hospitalities
similar to those of the day previous. We purposely made our voyages
short, in order that the _Kabaka_ might be informed in time of our
coming.
_April 3._—Just as we were about to depart next morning, we saw six
beautiful canoes, crowded with men, coming round a point, and for a very
short period were under the impression that they composed another
piratical fleet on its way to intercept us, but on surveying them with
my glass I saw that several who were seated amidships were dressed in
white, like the Wangwana, and our Waganda guides, among whom was our
hospitable entertainer of Buka, informed us that they were the
_Kabaka’s_ people. As they approached us, the commander was seen
arraying himself for the occasion. He donned a bead-worked head-dress,
above which long white cock’s feathers waved, and a snowy white and
long-haired goat-skin, while a crimson robe, depending from his
shoulders, completed the full dress.
In the middle of the bay of Kadzi we encountered, and a most ceremonious
greeting took place. The commander was a fine lusty young man of twenty
or thereabouts, and after springing into our boat he knelt down before
me, and declared his errand to the following effect:—
“The _Kabaka_ sends me with many salaams to you. He is in great hopes
that you will visit him, and has encamped at Usavara, that he may be
near the lake when you come. He does not know from what land you have
come, but I have a swift messenger with a canoe who will not stop until
he gives all the news to the _Kabaka_. His mother dreamed a dream a few
nights ago, and in her dream she saw a white man on this lake in a boat
coming this way, and the next morning she told the _Kabaka_, and, lo!
you have come. Give me your answer, that I may send the messenger.
Twiyanzi-yanzi-yanzi!” (Thanks, thanks, thanks.)
Whereupon, as the young commander, whose name was Magassa, understood
Kiswahili, I delivered the news to him and to his people freely and
frankly; and after I had ended, Magassa translated what the information
was into Kiganda, and immediately the messenger departed. Meanwhile
Magassa implored me to rest for this one day, that he might show me the
hospitality of his country, and that I might enter the _Kabaka’s_
presence in good humour with him. Persuaded also by my boat’s crew to
consent, we rowed to the village of Kadzi. Magassa was in his glory now.
His voice became imperious to his escort of 182 men; even the feathers
of his curious head-dress waved prouder, and his robe had a sweeping
dignity worthy of a Roman emperor’s. Upon landing, Magassa’s stick was
employed frequently. The sub-chief of Kadzi was compelled to yield
implicit obedience to his vice-regal behests.
“Bring out bullocks, sheep, and goat’s milk, and the mellowest of your
choicest bananas, and great jars of maramba, and let the white man and
his boatmen eat, and taste of the hospitalities of Uganda. Shall a white
man enter the _Kabaka’s_ presence with an empty belly? See how sallow
and pinched his cheeks are. We want to see whether we cannot show him
kindness superior to what the pagans have shown him.”
Two bullocks and four goats, a basketful of fat mellow bananas, and four
two gallon jars of maramba, were then brought before us, to which
extraordinary bounty the boat’s crew did ample justice. Nor were the
escort of Magassa without supplies. The country was at their mercy. They
killed three bullocks for themselves, cut down as many bananas as they
wished, and made a raid on the chickens, in accordance with Magassa’s
serene gracious permission to help themselves.
“A wonderful land!” I thought, “where an entire country can be subjected
to such an inordinate bully and vain youth as this Magassa, at the mere
mention of the _Kabaka’s_ name, and very evidently with the _Kabaka’s_
sanction!” Uganda was new to us then. We were not aware how supreme the
_Kabaka’s_ authority was; but, having a painful suspicion that the vast
country which recognised his power was greatly abused, and grieving that
the poor people had to endure such rough treatment for my sake, I did my
best to prevent Magassa from extorting to excess.
_April 4._—The next day we sallied forth from Kadzi Bay, with Magassa’s
escort leading the way. We crossed Bazzi Bay, from the middle of which
we gained a view of old Sabaganzi’s Hill, a square tabular mount, from
the summit of which Magassa said we should see the whole of Murchison
Bay and Rubaga, one of the _Kabaka’s_ capitals. About 10 A.M. we rounded
Muvwo Point, and entered Murchison Bay. The entrance is about four miles
wide, and naturally guarded by Linant Island, a lofty, dome-shaped
island, situated between the opposing points of Muvwo and Umbiru. Upon
leaving Muvwo south of us we have a full view of this fine body of
water, which reaches its extreme width between Soweh Island and Ukumba.
This, the farthest reach of its waters west, is about ten miles across,
while its extreme length, from Linant Island to the arm of Monyono Bay,
where Mtesa keeps his favourite canoes, cannot be less than fourteen
miles.
We encamped, according to Magassa’s wish, behind Soweh Island, on the
east side of Murchison Bay, whence, the next day, we were to start for
Usavara, the _Kabaka’s_ hunting village.
-----
# 9:
Out of respect to the memory of Captain Speke, I leave the word Nyanza
as he spelled it, adding only the explanation that none but the Arabs
and Wangwana pronounce it N’yanza. All the native tribes and nations
round the lake pronounce it either Nee-yanja or Nee-yanza, Niyanja or
Niyanza.
# 10:
Rugedzi is the name of the narrow channel which separates Ukerewé from
the mainland.
# 11:
A more detailed account of this part of the lake will be given in
later chapters, as I paid three visits to the Ripon Falls, and during
the third visit photographed them.
CHAPTER IX.
An extraordinary monarch—I am examined—African “chaff”—Mtesa, Emperor of
Uganda—Description of Mtesa—A naval review—Arrival at the imperial
capital—Mtesa’s palace—Fascination of the country—I meet a white man—
Col. Linant de Bellefonds—The process of conversion—A grand mission
field—A pleasant day with Col. de Bellefonds—Starting for my camp.
_April 5._—The little insight we obtained into the manners of Uganda
between Soweh Island, Murchison Bay, and Kiwa Island, near Ukafu Bay,
impressed us with the consciousness that we were about to become
acquainted with an extraordinary monarch and an extraordinary people,
as different from the barbarous pirates of Uvuma, and the wild,
mop-headed men of Eastern Usukuma, as the British in India are from
their Afridi fellow-subjects, or the white Americans of Arkansas from
the semi-civilized Choctaws. If politeness could so govern the actions
of the men of Kiwa Island, far removed as they were from contact with
the Uganda court, and suave duplicity could so well be practised by the
Mtongoleh of Ukafu, and such ready, ungrudging hospitality be shown by
the chief of Buka, and the _Kabaka’s_ orders be so promptly executed
by Magassa, the messenger, and the chief of Kadzi, what might we not
expect at the court, and what manner of man might not this “_Kabaka_”
be!
Such were our reflections as Magassa, in his superb canoe, led the way
from behind Soweh Island, and his little slave drummed an accompaniment
to the droning chant of his canoe-men.
Compared with our lonely voyage from our camp at Usukuma round all the
bays and inlets of the much-indented coasts of the Great Lake, these
five superb canoes forming line in front of our boat, escorting us to
the presence of the great potentate of Equatorial Africa, formed a scene
which promised at least novelty, and a view of some extraordinary pomp
and ceremony.
When about two miles from Usavara, we saw what we estimated to be
thousands of people arranging themselves in order on a gently rising
ground. When about a mile from the shore, Magassa gave the order to
signal our advance upon it with fire-arms, and was at once obeyed by his
dozen musketeers. Half a mile off I saw that the people on the shore had
formed themselves into two dense lines, at the ends of which stood
several finely-dressed men, arrayed in crimson and black and snowy
white. As we neared the beach, volleys of musketry burst out from the
long lines. Magassa’s canoes steered outward to right and left, while
200 or 300 heavily loaded guns announced to all around that the white
man—whom Mtesa’s mother had dreamed about—had landed. Numerous kettle
and bass drums sounded a noisy welcome, and flags, banners, and
bannerets waved, and the people gave a great shout. Very much amazed at
all this ceremonious and pompous greeting, I strode up towards the great
standard, near which stood a short young man, dressed in a crimson robe
which covered an immaculately white dress of bleached cotton, before
whom Magassa, who had hurried ashore, kneeled reverently, and turning to
me begged me to understand that this short young man was the _Katekiro_.
Not knowing very well who the “Katekiro” was, I only bowed, which,
strange to say, was imitated by him, only that his bow was far more
profound and stately than mine. I was perplexed, confused, embarrassed,
and I believe I blushed inwardly at this regal reception, though I hope
I did not betray my embarrassment.
A dozen well-dressed people now came forward, and grasping my hand
declared in the Swahili language that I was welcome to Uganda. The
_Katekiro_ motioned with his head, and amid a perfect concourse of
beaten drums, which drowned all conversation, we walked side by side,
and followed by curious thousands, to a courtyard, and a circle of
grass-thatched huts surrounding a larger house, which I was told were my
quarters.
The _Katekiro_ and several of the chiefs accompanied me to my new hut,
and a very sociable conversation took place. There was present a native
of Zanzibar, named Tori, whom I shortly discovered to be chief drummer,
engineer, and general jack-of-all-trades for the _Kabaka_. From this
clever, ingenious man I obtained the information that the _Katekiro_ was
the prime minister, or the _Kabaka’s_ deputy, and that the titles of the
other chiefs were Chambarango, Kangau, Mkwenda, Sekebobo, Kitunzi,
Sabaganzi, Kauta, Saruti. There were several more present, but I must
defer mention of them to other chapters.
Waganda, as I found subsequently, are not in the habit of remaining
incurious before a stranger. Hosts of questions were fired off at me
about my health, my journey, and its aim, Zanzibar, Europe and its
people, the seas and the heavens, sun, moon, and stars, angels and
devils, doctors, priests, and craftsmen in general; in fact, as the
representative of nations who “know everything,” I was subjected to a
most searching examination, and in one hour and ten minutes it was
declared unanimously that I had “passed.” Forthwith after the
acclamation, the stately bearing became merged into a more friendly one,
and long, thin, nervous black hands were pushed into mine
enthusiastically, from which I gathered that they applauded me as though
I had won the honours of a senior wrangler. Some proceeded direct to the
_Kabaka_ and informed him that the white man was a genius, knew
everything, and was remarkably polite and sociable, and the _Kabaka_ was
said to have “rubbed his hands as though he had just come into the
possession of a treasure.”
The fruits of the favourable verdict passed upon myself and merits were
seen presently in fourteen fat oxen, sixteen goats and sheep, a hundred
bunches of bananas, three dozen fowls, four wooden jars of milk, four
baskets of sweet-potatoes, fifty ears of green Indian corn, a basket of
rice, twenty fresh eggs, and ten pots of maramba wine. Kauta, Mtesa’s
steward or butler, at the head of the drovers and bearers of these
various provisions, fell on his knees before me and said:—
“The _Kabaka_ sends salaams unto his friend who has travelled so far to
see him. The _Kabaka_ cannot see the face of his friend until he has
eaten and is satisfied. The _Kabaka_ has sent his slave with these few
things to his friend that he may eat, and at the ninth hour, after his
friend has rested, the _Kabaka_ will send and call for him to appear at
the burzah. I have spoken. Twiyanzi-yanzi-yanzi!”
I replied suitably, though my politeness was not so excessive as to
induce me to kneel before the courtly butler and thank him for
permission to say I thanked him.
My boat’s crew were amazed at this imperial bounty, which provided more
than a bullock apiece for each member of my following. Saramba, the
mop-headed guide from Usukuma, was requested to say what he thought
of the _Kabaka_, who gave bullocks and goats in proportion as the
Usukuma chief gave potatoes to his guests. Saramba’s wits were all this
time under a cloud. He was still dressed in the primitive goatskin of
his country, as greasy and dingy as a whaling cook’s pan-cloth—the
greasiest thing I ever saw. He was stared at, jeered, and flouted by
the courtly, cleanly pages of the court, who by this time had taken
such keen and complete mental inventories of my features, traits,
and points of character as would have put to shame even a Parisian
newsmonger.
“What land is this undressed pagan from?” asked the pages, loud enough
for poor Saramba to hear.
“Regard the pagan’s hair,” said another.
“He had better not let the _Kabaka_ see him,” said a third.
“He is surely a pagan slave—worth about a goat,” remarked a fourth.
“Not he. I would not buy him for a ripe banana,” ventured a fifth.
I looked up at Saramba, and half fancied that he paled.
Poor Saramba! “As soon as they are gone, off goes that mop, and we will
dress you in white cloth,” said Safeni, the coxswain, compassionately.
But Baraka, one of the boatmen, an incorrigible scoffer, said, “What is
the use? If we give him cloth, will he wear it? No; he will roll it up
and tie it with a piece of string, and save it for his mammy, or sell it
in Usukuma for a goat.”
To my surprise the boatmen endeavoured to impress the fact on Saramba’s
mind that the _Kabaka_ was a special personal friend of theirs; that all
these cattle, goats, and fowls were the _Kabaka’s_ usual gifts to
Wangwana, and they endeavoured, with a reckless disregard for accuracy,
to enumerate fabulous instances of his generosity to a number of other
Safenis, Sarbokos, Barakas, and Zaidis, all natives, like themselves, of
Zanzibar. Let Englishmen never henceforth indulge in the illusion, or
lay the flattering unction to their self-love, that they are the only
people who have studied the art of “chaff.” The Zanzibaris are perfect
in the art, as the sordid barbarian Saramba discovered to his cost.
The ninth hour of the day approached. We had bathed, brushed, cleaned
ourselves, and were prepared externally and mentally for the memorable
hour when we should meet the Foremost Man of Equatorial Africa. Two of
the _Kabaka’s_ pages, clad in a costume semi-Kingwana and semi-Kiganda,
came to summon us—the Kingwana part being the long white shirt of
Zanzibar, folded with a belt or band about the loins, the Kiganda part
being the Sohari doti cloth depending from the right shoulder to the
feet. “The _Kabaka_ invites you to the burzah,” said they. Forthwith we
issue from our courtyard, five of the boat’s crew on each side of me
armed with Snider rifles. We reach a short broad street, at the end of
which is a hut. Here the _Kabaka_ is seated with a multitude of chiefs,
Wakungu[12] and Watongoleh, ranked from the throne in two opposing
kneeling or seated lines, the ends being closed in by drummers, guards,
executioners, pages, &c. &c. As we approached the nearest group, it
opened, and the drummers beat mighty sounds; Tori’s drumming being
conspicuous from its sharper beat. The Foremost Man of Equatorial Africa
rises and advances, and all the kneeling and seated lines rise—generals,
colonels, chiefs, cooks, butlers, pages, executioners, &c. &c.
The _Kabaka_, a tall, clean-faced, large-eyed, nervous-looking, thin
man, clad in a tarbush, black robe, with a white shirt belted with gold,
shook my hands warmly and impressively, and, bowing not ungracefully,
invited me to be seated on an iron stool. I waited for him to show the
example, and then I and all the others seated ourselves.
He first took a deliberate survey of me, which I returned with interest,
for he was as interesting to me as I was to him. His impression of me
was that I was younger than Speke, not so tall, but better dressed. This
I gathered from his criticisms as confided to his chiefs and favourites.
My impression of him was that he and I would become better acquainted,
that I should make a convert of him, and make him useful to Africa—but
what other impressions I had may be gathered from the remarks I wrote
that evening in my diary:—
“As I had read Speke’s book for the sake of its geographical
information, I retained but a dim remembrance of his description of
his life in Uganda. If I remember rightly, Speke described a youthful
prince, vain and heartless, a wholesale murderer and tyrant, one who
delighted in fat women. Doubtless he described what he saw, but it is
far from being the state of things now. Mtesa has impressed me as
being an intelligent and distinguished prince, who, if aided in time
by virtuous philanthropists, will do more for Central Africa than
fifty years of Gospel teaching, unaided by such authority, can do. I
think I see in him the light that shall lighten the darkness of this
benighted region; a prince well worthy the most hearty sympathies that
Europe can give him. In this man I see the possible fruition of
Livingstone’s hopes, for with his aid the civilisation of Equatorial
Africa becomes feasible. I remember the ardour and love which animated
Livingstone when he spoke of Sekeletu; had he seen Mtesa, his ardour
and love for him had been tenfold, and his pen and tongue would have
been employed in calling all good men to assist him.”
Five days later I wrote the following entry:—
“I see that Mtesa is a powerful Emperor, with great influence over his
neighbours. I have to-day seen the turbulent Mankorongo, king of Usui,
and Mirambo, that terrible phantom who disturbs men’s minds in
Unyamwezi, through their embassies kneeling and tendering their
tribute to him. I saw over 3000 soldiers of Mtesa nearly half
civilised. I saw about a hundred chiefs who might be classed in the
same scale as the men of Zanzibar and Oman, clad in as rich robes, and
armed in the same fashion, and have witnessed with astonishment such
order and law as is obtainable in semi-civilised countries. All this
is the result of a poor Muslim’s labour; his name is Muley bin Salim.
He it was who first began teaching here the doctrines of Islam. False
and contemptible as these doctrines are, they are preferable to the
ruthless instincts of a savage despot, whom Speke and Grant left
wallowing in the blood of women, and I honour the memory of Muley bin
Salim—Muslim and slave-trader though he be—the poor priest who has
wrought this happy change. With a strong desire to improve still more
the character of Mtesa, I shall begin building on the foundation
stones laid by Muley bin Salim. I shall destroy his belief in Islam,
and teach the doctrines of Jesus of Nazareth.”
It may easily be gathered from these entries that a feeling of
admiration for Mtesa must have begun very early, and that either Mtesa
is a very admirable man, or that I am a very impressionable traveller,
or that Mtesa is so perfect in the art of duplicity and acted so clever
a part, that I became his dupe.
[_To face page 152._
[Illustration:
SEKEBOBO, MTESA, CHAMBARANGO,
CHIEF OF CHAGWÉ. THE EMPEROR OF UGANDA. THE CHIEF.
POKINO, THE PRIME MINISTER.
OTHER CHIEFS.
(_From a photograph by the Author._)
]
The chief reason for admiration lay, probably, in the surprise with
which I viewed the man whom Speke had beheld as a boy—and who was
described by him through about two hundred pages of his book as a vain,
foolish, peevish, headstrong youth and a murderous despot—sedate and
composed in manner, intelligent in his questions and remarks beyond
anything I expected to meet in Africa. That I should see him so well
dressed, the centre of a court equally well dressed and intelligent,
that he should have obtained supremacy over a great region into which
moneyed strangers and soldiers from Cairo and Zanzibar flocked for the
sake of its supreme head, that his subjects should speak of him with
respect, and his guests, so far as I could gather, honour him, were
minor causes, which, I venture to consider, were sufficient to win my
favourable judgment. That he should have been so royally liberal in his
supplies to me, have proffered other courtesies in a tone of sincerity,
and have appeared to me a kindly, friendly soul, who affected all the
dignity of one who entertains a vast respect for himself and his
position without affronting or giving wanton offence to those around him
who also have wants, hopes, and self-respect, may also be offered as
reasons which contributed not a little towards creating a favourable
impression on me. I am aware that there are negrophobists who may
attribute this conduct of Mtesa to a natural gift for duplicity. He is
undoubtedly a man who possesses great natural talents, but he also shows
sometimes the waywardness, petulance, and withal the frank, exuberant,
joyous moods, of youth. I will also admit that Mtesa can be _politic_,
as, indeed, future pages will show, but he has also a child’s unstudied
ease of manner. I soon saw that he was highly clever, and possessed of
the abilities to govern, but his cleverness and ability lacked the
mannerisms of a European’s.
Whether or no I became Mtesa’s dupe will be seen in the chapters on
Uganda. Meanwhile, he appeared to me to be a generous prince and a frank
and intelligent man, and one whose character was well worth studying for
its novel intensity and extreme originality, and also as one whom I
judged could be made to subserve higher ends than he suspected he was
fashioned for. I met his friendly advances with the utmost cordiality,
and the burzah concluded at sunset, with the same ceremony that had
inaugurated it, leaving Mtesa and myself mutually pleased and gratified
with our acquaintance.
A description of Mtesa’s person was written in my diary on the third
evening of my visit to him, from which I quote:—
“_April 7._—In person Mtesa is tall, probably 6 feet 1 inch, and
slender. He has very intelligent and agreeable features, reminding me
of some of the faces of the great stone images at Thebes, and of the
statues in the Museum at Cairo. He has the same fulness of lips, but
their grossness is relieved by the general expression of amiability
blended with dignity that pervades his face, and the large, lustrous,
lambent eyes that lend it a strange beauty, and are typical of the
race from which I believe him to have sprung. His colour is of a dark
red brown, of a wonderfully smooth surface. When not engaged in
council, he throws off unreservedly the bearing that characterises him
when on the throne, and gives rein to his humour, indulging in hearty
peals of laughter. He seems to be interested in the discussion of the
manners and customs of European courts, and to be enamoured of hearing
of the wonders of civilisation. He is ambitious to imitate as much as
lies in his power the ways of the white man. When any piece of
information is given him, he takes upon himself the task of
translating it to his wives and chiefs, though many of the latter
understand the Swahili language as well as he does himself.”
On this day I recorded an interesting event which occurred in the
morning. Mtesa, about 7 A.M., sallied out of his quarters, accompanied
by a host of guards, pages, standard bearers, fifers, drummers, chiefs,
native guests, claimants, &c., and about two hundred women of his
household, and as he passed by my courtyard, he sent one of his pages to
request my presence. While he passed on, I paid some attention to my
toilet, and made as presentable an appearance as my clothes-bag enabled
me, and then, accompanied by two of my boat’s crew as gunbearers,
followed the court to the lake. Mtesa was seated on an iron stool, the
centre of a large group of admiring women, who, as soon as I appeared,
focussed about two hundred pairs of lustrous, humid eyes on my person,
at which he laughed.
“You see, ‘Stamlee,’” said he, “how my women look at you; they expected
to see you accompanied by a woman of your own colour. I am not jealous
though. Come and sit down.”
Presently Mtesa whispered an order to a page, who sprang to obey, and
responding to his summons, there darted into view from the bend in
Murchison Bay west of Usavara forty magnificent canoes, all painted an
ochreous brown, which I perceived to be the universally favourite
colour. _En passant_, I have wondered whether they admire this colour
from an idea that it resembles the dark bronze of their own bodies. For
pure Waganda are not black by any means. The women and chiefs of Mtesa,
who may furnish the best specimens of Waganda, are nearly all of a
bronze or a dark reddish brown, with peculiar smooth, soft skins,
rendered still more tender and velvety to the touch by their habit of
shampooing with butter. Some of the women, I observed, were of a very
light red-gold colour, while one or two verged on white. The native
cloths—the national dress—which depended from the right shoulders of the
larger number of those not immediately connected with the court were of
a light brown also. It struck me, when I saw the brown skins, brown
robes, and brown canoes, that brown must be the national colour.
These forty canoes, which now rode on the calm grey-green waters of
Murchison Bay, contained in the aggregate about 1200 men. The captain of
each canoe was dressed in a white cotton shirt and a cloth head-cover,
neatly folded turban-fashion, while the admiral wore over his shirt a
crimson jacket, profusely decorated with gold braid, and on his head the
red fez of Zanzibar. Each captain, as he passed us, seized shield and
spear, and, with the bravado of a matador addressing the Judge of the
Plaza to behold his prowess, went through the performance of defence and
attack by water. The admiral won the greatest applause, for he was the
Hector of the fleet, and his actions, though not remarkably graceful,
were certainly remarkably extravagant. The naval review over, Mtesa
commanded one of the captains of the canoes to try and discover a
crocodile or a hippopotamus. After fifteen minutes he returned with the
report that there was a young crocodile asleep on a rock about 200 yards
away. “Now, Stamlee,” said Mtesa, “show my women how white men can
shoot.” To represent all the sons of Japhet, on this occasion, was a
great responsibility, but I am happy to say that—whether owing to the
gracious influence of some unseen divinity who has the guardianship of
their interests or whether from mere luck—I nearly severed the head of
the young crocodile from its body at a distance of 100 yards with a
three-ounce ball, which was accepted as conclusive proof that all white
men are dead shots.
In the afternoon we amused ourselves with target practice, at which an
accident occurred that might have produced grave results. A No. 8
double-barrelled rifle was fractured in Mtesa’s hands at the second
shot, but fortunately without injuring either him or the page on whose
shoulder it rested. General alarm prevailed for a short time, until
that, seeing it was about to be accepted as a bad omen, I examined the
rifle and showed Mtesa an ancient flaw in the barrel, which his good
sense perceived had led to the fracture. The gun was a very old one, and
had evidently seen much service.
_April 10._—On the 10th of April the court broke up its hunting lodges
at Usavara, on Murchison Bay, and moved to the capital, whither I was
strongly urged to follow. Mtesa, escorted by about two hundred
musketeers and the great Wakungu and their armed retainers, travelled
quickly, but owing to my being obliged to house my boat from the hot
sun, I did not reach the capital until 1 P.M.
The road had been prepared for his Imperial Majesty’s hunting excursion,
and was 8 feet wide, through jungle and garden, forest and field.
Beautiful landscapes were thus enjoyed of rolling land and placid lake,
of gigantic tamarinds and gum-trees, of extensive banana groves and
plantations of the ficus, from the bark of which the national dress or
_mbugu_, is made. The peculiar dome-like huts, each with an attempt at a
portico, were buried deep in dense bowers of plantains which filled the
air with the odour of their mellow rich fruit.
The road wound upward to the summits of green hills which commanded
exquisite prospects, and down again into the sheltered bosoms of woody
nooks, and vales, and tree-embowered ravines. Streams of clear water
murmured through these depressions as they flowed towards Murchison Bay.
The verdure was of a brilliant green, freshened by the unfailing rains
of the Equator; the sky was of the bluest, and the heat, though great,
was tempered by the hill breezes, and frequently by the dense foliage
overhead.
Within three hours’ march from Usavara, we saw the capital crowning the
summit of a smooth rounded hill—a large cluster of tall conical grass
huts, in the centre of which rose a spacious, lofty, barn-like
structure. The large building, we were told, was the palace! the hill,
Rubaga; the cluster of huts, the imperial capital!
From each side of the tall cane fence enclosing the grass huts on
Rubaga hill radiated very broad avenues, imperial enough in width.
Arriving at the base of the hill, and crossing by a “corduroy” road
over a broad slimy ooze, we came up to one of these avenues, the
ground of which was a reddish clay strongly mixed with the detritus of
hematite. It gave a clear breadth of 100 feet of prepared ground, and
led by a gradual ascent to the circular road which made the circuit of
the hill outside the palace enclosure. Once on the dome-like height,
we saw that we had arrived by the back avenue, for the best view of
this capital of magnificent distances was that which was obtained by
looking from the burzah of the palace, and carrying the eye over the
broad front highway, on each side of which, as far as could be defined
from the shadows of the burzah, the Wakungu had their respective courts
and houses, embowered in gardens of banana and fig. Like the enclosure
round the palace courts and quarters, each avenue was fenced with tall
_matete_ (water-cane) neatly set very close together in uniform rows.
The by-streets leading from one avenue to another were narrow and
crooked.
While I stood admiring the view, a page came up, and, kneeling,
announced that he had been despatched by the Emperor to show me my
house. Following him, I was ushered within a corner lot of the fenced
square, between two avenues, into what I might appropriately term a
“garden villa” of Uganda. My house, standing in the centre of a plantain
garden about 100 feet square, was 20 feet long, and of a marquee shape,
with a miniature portico or eave projecting like a bonnet over the
doorway, and was divided into two apartments. Close by, about 30 feet
off, were three dome-like huts for the boat’s crew and the kitchen, and
in a corner of the garden was a railed space for our bullocks and goats.
Were it not that I was ever anxious about my distant camp in Usukuma, I
possessed almost everything requisite to render a month’s stay very
agreeable, and for the time I was as proud of my tiny villa as a London
merchant is of his country house.
In the afternoon I was invited to the palace. A number of people in
brown robes, or white dresses, some with white goatskins over their
brown robes, others with cords folded like a turban round their heads,
which I heard were distinguishing marks of the executioners, were also
ascending to the burzah. Court after court was passed until we finally
stood upon the level top in front of the great house of cane and straw,
which the Waganda fondly term _Kibuga_, or the Palace. The space at
least was of aulic extent, and the prospect gained at every point was
also worthy of the imperial eyes of the African monarch.
On all sides rolled in grand waves a voluptuous land of sunshine, and
plenty, and early summer verdure, cooled by soft breezes from the great
equatorial freshwater sea. Isolated hill-cones, similar to that of
Rubaga, or square tabular masses, rose up from the beautiful landscape
to attract, like mysteries, the curious stranger’s observation, and
villages and banana groves of still fresher green, far removed on the
crest of distant swelling ridges, announced that Mtesa owned a land
worth loving. Dark sinuous lines traced the winding courses of deep
ravines filled with trees, and grassy extents of gently undulating
ground marked the pastures; broader depressions suggested the cultivated
gardens and the grain fields, while on the far verge of the horizon we
saw the beauty and the charm of the land melting into the blues of
distance.
There is a singular fascination about this country. The land would be
loved for its glorious diversified prospects, even though it were a
howling wilderness; but it owes a great deal of the power which it
exercises over the imagination to the consciousness that in it dwells a
people peculiarly fascinating also. “How comes it,” one asks, “that this
barbarous, uneducated, and superstitious monarch builds upon this
height?” Not for protection, surely, for he has smoothed the uneven
ground and formed broad avenues to approach it, and a single torch would
suffice to level all his fences? Does he, then, care for the charms of
the prospect? Has he also an eye to the beauties of nature?
Were this monarch as barbarous as other African chiefs whom I had met
between Zanzibar and Napoleon Channel, he would have sought a basin, or
the slope of some ridge, or some portion of the shores of the lake where
his cattle might best graze, and would there have constructed his grass
dwellings. But this man builds upon a hill that he may look abroad, and
take a large imperial view of his land. He loves ample room; his house
is an African palace, spacious and lofty; large clean courtyards
surround it; he has spacious quarters for his harem, and courtyards
round those; he has spacious quarters for his guards, and extensive
courtyards round those; a cane enclosure surrounds all, and beyond the
enclosure again is a wide avenue running round the palace fences. His
people, great and small, imitate him as much as lies in their power.
They are well dressed, and immodesty is a crime in the land. Yet I am
still in Africa, and only yesterday, as it were, I saw naked men and
naked women. It may be that such a monarch and people fascinate me as
much as their land. The human figures in the landscape have, indeed, as
much interest for me as the gracious landscape itself.
The drums sounded. Mtesa had seated himself on the throne, and we
hastened to take our seats.
Since the 5th of April, I had enjoyed ten interviews with Mtesa, and
during all I had taken occasion to introduce topics which would lead up
to the subject of Christianity. Nothing occurred in my presence but I
contrived to turn it towards effecting that which had become an object
to me, viz., his conversion. There was no attempt made to confuse him
with the details of any particular doctrine. I simply drew for him the
image of the Son of God humbling Himself for the good of all mankind,
white and black, and told him how, while He was in man’s disguise, He
was seized and crucified by wicked people who scorned His divinity, and
yet out of His great love for them, while yet suffering on the cross, He
asked His great Father to forgive them. I showed the difference in
character between Him whom white men love and adore, and Mohammed, whom
the Arabs revere; how Jesus endeavoured to teach mankind that we should
love all men, excepting none, while Mohammed taught his followers that
the slaying of the pagan and the unbeliever was an act that merited
Paradise. I left it to Mtesa and his chiefs to decide which was the
worthier character. I also sketched in brief the history of religious
belief from Adam to Mohammed. I had also begun to translate to him the
Ten Commandments, and Idi, the Emperor’s writer, transcribed in Kiganda
the words of the Law as given to him in choice Swahili by Robert Feruzi,
one of my boat’s crew, and a pupil of the Universities Mission at
Zanzibar.
The enthusiasm with which I launched into this work of teaching was soon
communicated to Mtesa and some of his principal chiefs, who became so
absorbingly interested in the story as I gave it to them that little of
other business was done. The political burzah and seat of justice had
now become an alcove, where only the moral and religious laws were
discussed.
Before we broke up our meeting Mtesa informed me that I should meet a
_white man_ at his palace the next day.
“A white man, or a Turk?”
“A white man like yourself,” repeated Mtesa.
“No; impossible!”
“Yes, you will see. He comes from Masr (Cairo), from Gordoom (Gordon)
Pasha.”
“Ah, very well, I shall be glad to see him, and if he is really a white
man I may probably stay with you four or five days longer,” said I to
Mtesa, as I shook hands with him, and bade him good-night.
_April 11._—The “white man,” reported to be coming the next day, arrived
at noon with great éclat and flourishes of trumpets, the sound of which
could be heard all over the capital. Mtesa hurried off a page to invite
me to his burzah. I hastened up by a private entrance. Mtesa and all his
chiefs, guards, pages, executioners, claimants, guests, drummers and
fifers were already there, _en grande tenue_.
Mtesa was in a fever, as I could see by the paling of the colour under
his eyes and his glowing eyeballs. The chiefs shared their master’s
excitement.
“What shall we do,” he asked, “to welcome him?”
“Oh, form your troops in line from the entrance to the burzah down to
the gate of the outer court, and present arms, and as he comes within
the gate, let your drums and fifes sound a loud welcome.”
“Beautiful!” said Mtesa. “Hurry Tori, Chambarango, Sekebobo; form them
in two lines just as Stamlee says. Oh, that is beautiful! And shall we
fire guns, Stamlee?”
“No, not until you shake hands with him; and as he is a soldier, let the
guards fire, then they will not injure anyone.”
Mtesa’s flutter of excitement on this occasion made me think that there
must have been a somewhat similar scene before my landing at Usavara,
and that Tori must have been consulted frequently upon the form of
ceremony to be adopted.
What followed upon the arrival of the white man at the outer gate had
best be told as an interlude by the stranger himself:
“At two o’clock, the weather having cleared up, Mtesa sent a messenger
to inform me that he was ready to receive me. Notice is given in the
camp; every one puts on his finest clothes; at last we are ready; my
brave Soudanians look quite smart in their red jackets and white
trousers. I place myself at their heads; trumpets flourish and drums
sound as we follow an avenue from eighty-five to a hundred yards wide,
running direct north and south, and terminating at Mtesa’s palace.”...
“On entering this court, I am greeted with a frightful uproar; a
thousand instruments, each one more outlandish than the other, produce
the most discordant and deafening sounds. Mtesa’s bodyguard, carrying
guns, present arms on my appearance; the king is standing at the
entrance of the reception hall. I approach and bow to him _à la
turque_. He holds out his hand, which I press; I immediately perceive
a sunburnt European to the left of the king, a traveller, whom I
imagine to be Cameron. We exchange glances without speaking.
“Mtesa enters the reception room, and we follow him. It is a narrow
hall about 60 feet long by 15 feet wide, the ceiling of which, sloping
down at the entrance, is supported by a double row of wooden pillars
which divide the room into two aisles. The principal and central room
is unoccupied, and leads to the king’s throne; the two aisles are
filled with the great dignitaries and chief officers. At each pillar
stands one of the king’s guard, wearing a long red mantle, a white
turban ornamented with monkey skin, white trousers and black blouse
with a red band. All are armed with guns.
“Mtesa takes his place on his throne, which is a wooden seat in the
shape of an office arm-chair; his feet rest upon a cushion; the whole
placed on a leopard’s skin spread over a Smyrna carpet. Before the
king is a highly polished elephant’s tusk, and at his feet are two
boxes containing fetishes; on either side the throne is a lance (one
copper, the other steel), each held by a guard; these are the insignia
of Uganda; the dog which Speke mentions has been done away with.
Crouching at the foot of the king are the vizier and two scribes.
“Mtesa is dignified in his manner, and does not lack a certain natural
air of distinction; his dress is elegant: a white _couftan_ finished
with a red band, stockings, slippers, vest of black cloth embroidered
with gold, and a _tarbouche_ with a silver plate on the top. He wears
a sword with ivory-inlaid hilt (a Zanzibar weapon), and a staff.
“I exhibited my presents, which Mtesa scarcely pretended to see, his
dignity forbidding him to show any curiosity.
“I address the traveller, who sits in front of me, on the left of the
king: ‘Have I the honour of speaking to Mr. Cameron?’
“STANLEY. ‘No, sir; Mr. Stanley.’
“MYSELF. ‘M. Linant de Bellefonds, member of the Gordon-Pasha
Expedition.’
“We bow low to each other, as though we had met in a drawing-room, and
our conversation is at an end for the moment.
“This meeting with Mr. Stanley greatly surprises me. Stanley was far
from my thoughts; I was totally ignorant of the object of his
Expedition.
“I take leave of the king, who meanwhile has been amusing himself by
making my unlucky soldiers parade and flourish their trumpets. I shake
hands with Mr. Stanley, and ask him to honour me with his presence at
dinner.
“I had scarcely been more than a few minutes in my hut when Mr.
Stanley arrived. After having mutually expressed the pleasure our
meeting gave us, Mr. Stanley informed me that Cameron had written from
Ujiji that he was starting for the Congo. Mr. Cameron, he told me,
must have been much embarrassed by the question of money, having
exceeded the amount allowed by the Royal Geographical Society. At
Ujiji, he would have lost all his companions, and would be actually
alone. Mr. Stanley was loud in his praises of Cameron, and hoped that
he would succeed in his expedition.”...
“Leaving his expedition at Usukuma, Mr. Stanley embarked with eleven
men on the Victoria Lake, in a small boat which he had brought with
him; he explored all the eastern part of the lake, penetrating into
all the bays, gulfs, and creeks, and taking the bearings of islands
and capes. I saw Mr. Stanley’s work, which is very extensive. He
showed me some curious sketches of islands he had seen; the islands of
the Bridge, the Grotto, and the Sphinx. The first is a natural bridge
of granite, with all the appearance of a bridge made by the hand of
man; the second is like the grotto of the enchantress Calypso; the
third greatly resembles the Egyptian Sphinx.”...
Colonel Linant de Bellefonds having thus described our meeting, there
remains but little for me to add.
As soon as I saw him approaching the burzah, I recognised him to be a
Frenchman. Not being introduced to him—and as I was then but a mere
guest of Mtesa, with whom it was M. Linant’s first desire to converse—I
simply bowed to him, until he had concluded addressing the Emperor, when
our introduction took place as he has described.
I was delighted at seeing him, and much more delighted when I discovered
that M. Linant was a very agreeable man. I observed that there was a
vast difference between his treatment of his men and the manner in which
I treated mine, and that his intercourse with the Waganda was conducted
after exactly opposite principles to those which governed my conduct. He
adopted a half military style which the Waganda ill brooked, and many
things uncomplimentary to him were uttered by them. He stationed guards
at the entrance to his courtyard to keep the Waganda at a distance,
except those bearing messages from Mtesa, while my courtyard was nearly
full of Watongolehs, soldiers, pages, children, with many a dark-brown
woman listening with open ears to my conversation with the Waganda. In
fact, my courtyard from morning to night swarmed with all classes, for I
loved to draw the natives to talk, so that perfect confidence might be
established between us, and I might gain an insight into their real
natures. By this freer converse with them I became, it seemed, a
universal favourite, and obtained information sufficient to fill two
octavo volumes.
M. Linant passed many pleasant hours with me. Though he had started from
Cairo previous to my departure from Zanzibar, and consequently could
communicate no news from Europe, I still felt that for a brief period I
enjoyed civilised life. His _cuisine_ was after the French fashion. He
possessed French beans and olive oil, various potted meats of Paris
brands, _pâtés de foie gras_ and Bologna sausage, sardines and
Marseilles biscuits, white sugar, coffee, cocoa, chocolate, and tea. If
we add to this list the articles that the natives and Mtesa’s bounty
furnished—milk, beef, kid, green and ripe bananas, eggs, sweet-potatoes,
tomatoes, melons, and cassava flour—it will be seen that his cook had
abundance of material wherewith to supply and satisfy our moderate
gastronomic tastes. The pleasure we mutually felt in each other’s
company, and the exceptional good health which blessed us, sharpened our
appetites and improved our digestion. The religious conversations which
I had begun with Mtesa were maintained in the presence of M. Linant de
Bellefonds, who, fortunately for the cause I had in view, was a
Protestant.[13] For when questioned by Mtesa about the facts which I had
uttered, and which had been faithfully transcribed, M. Linant, to
Mtesa’s astonishment, employed nearly the same words, and delivered the
same responses. The remarkable fact that two white men, who had never
met before, one having arrived from the south-east, the other having
emerged from the north, should nevertheless both know the same things,
and respond in the same words, charmed the popular mind without the
burzah as a wonder, and was treasured in Mtesa’s memory as being
miraculous.
The period of my stay with Mtesa drew to a close, and I requested leave
to depart, begging the fulfilment of a promise he had made to me that he
would furnish me with transport sufficient to convey the Expedition by
water from Kagehyi in Usukuma to Uganda. Nothing loth, since one white
man would continue his residence with him till my return, and being
eager to see the gifts I told him were safe at Usukuma, he gave his
permission, and commanded Magassa to collect thirty canoes, and to
accompany me to my camp.
_April 15._—On the 15th of April, then, escorted by Magassa and his
Watongolehs, and also by M. Linant and ten of his Nubian soldiers, we
left Rubaga.
We arrived at Usavara about 10 A.M., and I imagined, foolishly enough,
that Magassa would be ready for the voyage. But the Magassa of the 15th
of April was several grades higher in his own estimation than the
Magassa of the 1st of April. Fifteen days’ life in the Emperor’s favour
and promotion to an admiralship had intoxicated the youth. Magassa could
not be ready for two days.
“Not if I send a messenger back to Mtesa with this information?” I
asked.
“Ah, yes, perhaps to-morrow morning.”
“Only a few hours longer, M. Linant; so it does not matter much.
Meantime we will take possession of our old quarters at Usavara, and
pass the evening in a ramble along the shores of the bay, or a sail in
the boat.” To which suggestion M. Linant assented.
There was matter sufficient to engage us in conversation. The rich
region we trod, landscapes steeped in most vivid green, the splendour of
the forest foliage, the magnificent lake of Equatorial Africa, studded
with a thousand isles, the broad and now placid arm known as Murchison
Bay, the diversity of scenery, the nature of the rocks, the variety of
the plants, ourselves met upon this far strand of the inland sea, to
part perhaps for ever—a continuous chain of topics which, with an
intelligent and sympathetic companion like M. Linant, might have served
to make our rambles and our evenings in the hut enjoyable for weeks.
In the evening I concluded my letters dated 14th of April 1875, which
were sent to the _Daily Telegraph_ and the _New York Herald_, the
English and American journals I represented here, appealing for a
Christian mission to be sent to Mtesa.
The appeal written hurriedly, and included in the letter left at
Usavara, was as follows:—
“I have, indeed, undermined Islamism so much here that Mtesa has
determined henceforth, until he is better informed, to observe the
Christian Sabbath as well as the Muslim Sabbath, and the great
captains have unanimously consented to this. He has further caused the
Ten Commandments of Moses to be written on a board for his daily
perusal—for Mtesa can read Arabic—as well as the Lord’s Prayer and the
golden commandment of our Saviour, ‘Thou shalt love thy neighbour as
thyself.’ This is great progress for the few days that I have remained
with him, and, though I am no missionary, I shall begin to think that
I might become one if such success is feasible. But oh! that some
pious, practical missionary would come here! What a field and harvest
ripe for the sickle of civilisation! Mtesa would give him anything he
desired—houses, lands, cattle, ivory, etc.! he might call a province
his own in one day. It is not the mere preacher, however, that is
wanted here. The bishops of Great Britain collected, with all the
classic youth of Oxford and Cambridge, would effect nothing by mere
talk with the intelligent people of Uganda. It is the practical
Christian tutor, who can teach people how to become Christians, cure
their diseases, construct dwellings, understand and exemplify
agriculture, and turn his hand to anything, like a sailor—this is the
man who is wanted. Such an one, if he can be found, would become the
saviour of Africa. He must be tied to no church or sect, but profess
God and His Son and the moral law, and live a blameless Christian,
inspired by liberal principles, charity to all men, and devout faith
in Heaven. He must belong to no nation in particular, but to the
entire white race. Such a man or men, Mtesa, Emperor of Uganda, Usogo,
Unyoro, and Karagwé—an empire 360 geographical miles in length, by 50
in breadth—invites to repair to him. He has begged me to tell the
white men that, if they will only come to him, he will give them all
they want. Now, where is there in all the pagan world a more promising
field for a mission than Uganda? Colonel Linant de Bellefonds is my
witness that I speak the truth, and I know he will corroborate all I
say. The Colonel, though a Frenchman, is a Calvinist, and has become
as ardent a well-wisher for the Waganda as I am. Then why further
spend needlessly vast sums upon black pagans of Africa who have no
example of their own people becoming Christians before them? I speak
to the Universities Mission at Zanzibar and to the Free Methodists at
Mombasa, to the leading philanthropists, and the pious people of
England. ‘Here, gentlemen, is your opportunity—embrace it! The people
on the shores of the Nyanza call upon you. Obey your own generous
instincts, and listen to them; and I assure you that in one year you
will have more converts to Christianity than all other missionaries
united can number. The population of Mtesa’s kingdom is very dense; I
estimate the number of his subjects at 2,000,000. You need not fear to
spend money upon such a mission, as Mtesa is sole ruler, and will
repay its cost tenfold with ivory, coffee, otter skins of a very fine
quality, or even in cattle, for the wealth of this country in all
these products is immense. The road here is by the Nile, or viâ
Zanzibar, Ugogo, and Unyanyembé. The former route, so long as Colonel
Gordon governs the countries of the Upper Nile, seems the most
feasible.’”
When the letters were written and sealed, I committed them to the charge
of Colonel Linant. My friend promised he would await my return from
Usukuma; meanwhile he lent me a powerful field-glass, as mine, being
considerably injured, had been given to Mtesa.
Magassa was not ready on the second day of our arrival. One of his women
had absconded, or some of Mtesa’s chiefs had seized her. Only ten canoes
had arrived by the evening of the 16th.
_April 17._—The parting between M. Linant and myself, I shall allow him
to describe:
“At 5 A.M. drums are beaten: the boats going with Stanley are
collecting together.
“Mr. Stanley and myself are soon ready. The _Lady Alice_ is unmoored;
luggage, sheep, goats, and poultry are already stowed away in their
places. There is nothing to be done except to hoist the American flag
and head the boat southwards. I accompany Stanley to his boat; we
shake hands and commend each other to the care of God. Stanley takes
the helm; the _Lady Alice_ immediately swerves like a spirited horse,
and bounds forward, lashing the water of the Nyanza into foam. The
starry flag is hoisted, and floats proudly in the breeze; I
immediately raise a loud hurrah with such hearty good will as perhaps
never before greeted the traveller’s ears.
“The _Lady Alice_ is already far away. We wave our handkerchiefs as a
last farewell; my heart is full; I have just lost a brother. I had
grown used to seeing Stanley, the open-hearted, sympathetic man and
friend and admirable traveller. With him I forgot my fatigue; this
meeting had been like a return to my own country. His engaging
instructive conversation made the hours pass like minutes. I hope I
may see him again, and have the happiness of spending several days
with him.”
-----
# 12:
Wakungu is the plural of _mkungu_, a rank equivalent to “general.”
Watongoleh is the plural of _mtongoleh_, or “colonel.”
# 13:
In the original manuscript, which is in the possession of General C.
P. Stone, Chief of the Staff in his Highness the Khedive’s service, M.
Linant has alluded in the most flattering manner to these hours
devoted to religious instruction.
CHAPTER X.
Parting with Colonel Linant—Magassa’s vanity and disloyalty—The sailor’s
island—Jumba’s Cove—Uganga—Dumo—The Alexandra Nile—Lupassi Point—In
danger at Makongo—Alone with Nature—Insect life—Dreams of a happier
future—A dark secret—Murabo and the fish—Alice Island—A night never to
be forgotten—The treachery of Bumbireh—Saved!—Refuge Island—Wiru—“Go
and die in the Nyanza!”—Back in camp—Sad news.
_April 17._—“Adieu! adieu! mon ami Linant! Remember my words, I shall
return within a month; if not, present my compliments to your friends at
Ismailia (Gondokoro), and tell them they may see me on the Albert
Nyanza,” were the last words I said to M. Linant de Bellefonds, as I
seated myself in my boat on the morning of the 17th of April.[14]
We had scarcely gone three miles on our voyage, before the vanity of the
youth Magassa exceeded all bounds. Deeming it prudent—before it was too
late—to lecture him, and hold out prospects of a reward conditional upon
good behaviour, I called to him to approach me, as I had something to
say to him. He would not come, but continued on his way with a slight
grimace and a saucy inclination of the head. I reserved the lecture
until we should arrive in camp.
At noon I took observations for latitude at the entrance to Murchison
Bay, and during the afternoon we rowed hard upon our voyage, reaching
Chiwanuko Island near sunset. Magassa soon followed me, and as I landed,
I laid hold of him gently but firmly, and seating him by my side,
employed myself in holding forth grand expectations before him, only,
however, on the condition that he obeyed Mtesa’s orders, behaved well,
and acted in unison with me. Magassa promised faithfully, and as a sign
that he was sincere, begged to be permitted to continue his voyage to
Sessé, a large island where Mtesa’s canoes were beached, to procure the
full quota of thirty promised to me. Leaving five canoes in charge of
Sentum and Sentageya, two of his Watongolehs, he departed by night,
which I thought was a remarkable instance of energy. The truth was,
however, that he only proceeded two miles, and slept at a village, where
he abused his authority by seizing a woman, and binding the chief.
_April 20._—The next day we proceeded with the Watongolehs, Sentum and
Sentageya, and camped at Jumba’s Cove. Jumba is the hereditary title of
one of the junior admirals in command of a section of the imperial canoe
fleet, to whom is awarded the district of Unjaku, a headland abutting on
the left or north bank of the Katonga river. It is an exceedingly
fertile district, separating Gabunga’s, or the chief admiral’s, district
from Sambuzi’s, a sub-chief of Kitunzi.
The whole of the north coast from Murchison Bay presents a panorama of
beautiful views, of square table-topped mounts, rounded hills, and cones
forming low ranges, which run in all directions, but with a general
inclination east and west, and form, as it were, a natural boundary to
the lake on the north. These masses of mountain, forming irregular
ranges, suggest to the observer that no rivers of importance issue into
the lake from the north side. They are terminated suddenly at the
Katonga, and from the north-west along their base the river flows
sluggishly into the lake. On the right or southern bank the land appears
to be very low, as far as the hills of Uddu, four miles off. The Katonga
river at this mouth is about 400 yards wide, but its current is very
slow, almost imperceptible.
Uganda is a lowland district lying at the mouth of the Katonga, on the
south or right bank, whence a large bay with well-wooded shores rounds
from this river to the southward in a crescent form, to Bwiru, from
which point we begin to trace the coast of Uddu. Uganda proper extends
only as far as the Katonga river; from its bank Uddu begins, and
stretches as far as the Alexandra Nile or Kagera.
Sessé Island extends from a point six miles south of Kibonga, westward
to a point seven miles south of Jumba’s village, and southward—parallel
almost with the coast of Uddu—to a distance of about twenty-three miles.
Its extreme length is about forty-two miles, while its extreme breadth
must be about twenty miles. The principal canoe builders and the greater
number of the sailors of Mtesa’s empire dwell in Sessé, and because of
their coal-black colour, timidity, superstition, and general uncleanly
life, are regarded as the helots of Uganda.
_April 21._—On the 21st we made a tedious, eventless voyage along the
low, swampy, and jungly shores of Ujaju to Dumo, a village situated on
the mainland nearly opposite the extreme southern end of Sessé Island.
From a curious stony hill near Dumo, which bears traces of ancient
effects of water, we obtained a distant view of the outskirts of a
pastoral plateau rising westward.
Magassa appeared in the evening from his unsuccessful quest for canoes.
He gave a graphic account of the dangers he had encountered at Sessé,
whose inhabitants declared they would rather be beheaded by the _Kabaka_
than risk themselves on an endless voyage on the stormy sea, but he had
obtained a promise from Magura, the admiral in charge of the naval yards
at Sessé, that he would endeavour to despatch fourteen canoes after us.
Meanwhile, Magassa had left me at Chiwanuko with five canoes, but
returned with only two, alleging that the other three leaked so much
that they were not seaworthy. He suggested also that, as Magura might
cause great delay if left alone, I should proceed with Sentum and
Sentageya, and leave him in charge of five. Having witnessed his vanity
and heard of his atrocious conduct near Chiwanuko, I strongly suspected
him of desiring to effect some more mischief at Dumo, but I was
powerless to interpose the strong arm, and therefore left him to answer
for his shortcomings to Mtesa, who would doubtless hear of them before
long.
After leaving Dumo and Sessé north of us, we had a boundless horizon of
water on the east, while on the west stretched a crescent-shaped bay,
bordered by a dense forest, ending south at Chawasimba Point. From here
another broad bay extends southwards, and is terminated by the
northernmost headland of Uzongora. Into this bay issues the Alexandra
Nile in one powerful deep stream, which, from its volume and dark iron
colour, may be traced several miles out. At its mouth it is about 150
yards wide, and at two miles above narrows to about 100 yards. We
attempted to ascend higher, but the current was so strong that we made
but slow progress, and after an ascent of three miles were obliged to
abandon it. The plain on either side has a breadth of from five to ten
miles, which during the rainy season is inundated throughout its whole
extent. The deepest soundings we obtained were 85 feet. I know no other
river to equal this in magnitude among the affluents of the Victoria
Nyanza. The Shimeeyu river thus becomes the second largest affluent of
the lake, and the two united would form a river equal to that which has
its exit by the Ripon Falls.
The Waganda Watongolehs, Sentum and Sentageya, call the Alexandra Nile
the “Mother of the River at Jinja,” or the Ripon Falls.
The Alexandra Nile constitutes a natural boundary between the
sovereignty of Uganda and its subject kingdoms of Karagwé and Uzongora,
which begin south of the river. The plain of the Alexandra stretches
south a few miles to an irregular line of grassy and treeless mountains,
which are the characteristics of the fine pastoral countries of Uzongora
and Karagwé. At Lupassi Point the mountains project steeply, almost
cliff-like, into the lake, with heights varying from 200 feet to 500
feet. The steep slopes bristle at many points with grey gneiss rocks—
massy débris from the mountain brows. Near this point I discovered a
stream which had a fall of 3 feet issuing from an orifice in a rocky
cliff, though above it there was not the faintest sign of a watercourse.
In the gullies and clefts of the cliff-sides most beautiful ferns
abounded.
I managed to climb to the top of the bluffs, and to my surprise
overlooked a plateau, with a grandly rolling surface, covered with
pasture and almost treeless, except near the villages, where grew dense
groves of bananas. Further west, however, the plateau heaves upwards
into mountain masses of the same naked character. Looking towards the
east, directly in front of North Uzongora, stretches an apparently
illimitable silvery sea; but towards the south one or two lofty islands
are visible, situated about twenty-five miles from the mainland, serene
and royal in their lone exclusiveness.
The first village we halted at on the coast of Uzongora was Makongo. It
nestles in a sheltered nook in a bay-like indentation of the lofty
mountain wall crowded with banana groves and huts scattered under their
impenetrable shades—with a strip of grey gravel beach gently sloping
from the water’s edge about 40 feet upward to where it meets the
prodigious luxury of the grove. There were about a dozen natives clad in
dingy goat-skins seated on the beach, sucking the potent maramba from
gourds when we came up, and without question we hauled our boat and two
canoes high and dry. To our greetings the natives responded readily and
civilly enough. With rather glazed eyes they offered us some of the
equatorial nectar. The voyage had been long on this day, and we were
tired, and it might be that we sighed for such cordial refreshing drink
as was now proferred to us. At any rate, we accepted their hospitable
gift, and sucked heartily, with bland approval of the delicacy of the
liquid, and cordial thanks for their courtesy. An observation for
longitude was taken, the natives looking on pleased and gratified. To
all our questions as to the names of the localities and islands in view
they replied like friends.
Sunset came. We bade each other good-night. At midnight there was a
fearful drumming heard, which kept us all awake from the sheer violence
of the sound. “Is anything wrong?” we demanded of Sentum and Sentageya.
“Oh, no!” they answered. Still the drumming sounded hoarsely through the
dark night, and the desire for sleep fled.
My men were all up before dawn, impatient for the day.
Instinct, startled by that ominous drumming, warned them that something
was wrong. I was still in my boat with drawn curtains, though able to
communicate with my people. At sight of the natives Safeni, the
coxswain, hailed me. As I was dressed, I arranged my guns and soon
stepped out, and my astonishment was great when I perceived that there
were between 200 and 300 natives, all in war costume and armed with
spears, and bows and arrows, and long-handled cleaver-like weapons, with
ample and long cane shields for defence, so close to us. For this
terrible looking body of men stood only about thirty paces off,
regarding us steadfastly. It was such a singular position, so unusual
and so strangely theatrical, that, feeling embarrassed, I hastened to
break the silence, and advanced towards a man whom I recognised as the
elder who had given me some native wine on the previous evening.
“What means this, my friend?” I asked. “Is anything wrong?”
He replied rapidly, but briefly and sternly, in the Kinyambu language,
which as I did not understand, I called the Mtongoleh Sentum to
translate for me.
“What do you mean by drawing your canoes on our beach?” I was told he
asked.
“Tell him we drew them up lest the surf should batter them to pieces
during the night. The winds are rough sometimes, and waves rise high.
Our canoes are our homes, and we are far from our friends who are
waiting for us. Were our canoes injured or broken how should we return
to our friends?”
He next demanded, “Know you this is our country?”
“Yes, but are we doing wrong? Is the beach so soft that it can be hurt
by our canoes? Have we cut down your bananas, or entered into your
houses? Have we molested any of your people? Do you not see our fires by
which we slept exposed to the cold night?”
“Well, you must leave this place at once. We do not want you here. Go!”
“That is easily done,” I answered; “and had you told us last night that
our presence was not welcome to you, we should have camped on yonder
island.”
“What did you come here for?”
“We came to rest for the night, and to buy food, and is that a crime? Do
you not travel in your canoes? Supposing people received you as you
received us this morning, what would you say? Would you not say they
were bad? Ah, my friend, I did not expect that you who were so good
yesterday would turn out thus! But never mind; we will go away quickly
and quietly, and the _Kabaka_ Mtesa shall hear of this, and judge
between us.”
“If you wish food, I will send some bananas to yonder island, but you
must go away from this, lest the people, who wish to fight you, should
break out.”
We soon shoved the boat and two canoes into the water, and I and my
boat’s crew embarked and rowed away a few yards. But Sentum was angry
with the people, and instead of quietly departing, was loudly
expostulating with them. To prevent mischief and the massacre of his
entire party, I shouted to Sentum, commanding him to embark at once,
which after a short time he obeyed, growling.
We steered for Musira Island, about three miles from Makongo, where we
found four or five canoes from Kamiru’s country loaded with coffee and
butter. The Waganda, Sentum and Sentageya, with feelings embittered
against the natives, seized upon several packages of coffee, which drew
a loud remonstrance from the natives. The Waganda sailors, ever ready
for a scramble, followed their chiefs’ example, and assisted in
despoiling the natives, which caused one of them to appeal to me. I was
busy directing my boat’s crew to set my tent, when I was thus made
acquainted with the conduct of the Waganda. The property taken from them
was restored immediately, and Sentum and Sentageya were threatened with
punishment if they molested them further, and the natives were advised
to leave for another island about five miles north of us, as soon as the
lake should become calm.
About 10 A.M. the chief of Makongo, true to his promise, sent us ten
bunches of green bananas, sufficient for one day’s provisions for the
sixty-two men, Waganda and Wangwana, of whom our party consisted.
After these events I strolled alone into the dense and tangled
luxuriance of the jungle woods which lay behind our camp. Knowing that
the people would be discussing their bananas, that no foe could molest
them, and that they could not quarrel with any natives—there being
nobody else on the island of Musira but ourselves—I was able to leave
them to pass the time as they might deem most agreeable. Therefore, with
all the ardour of a boy, I began my solitary exploration. Besides, it
was so rare for me to enjoy solitude and silence in such perfect safety
as was here promised to me. My freedom in these woods, though I was
alone, none could endanger or attempt to restrain; my right to climb
trees, or explore hollows, or stand on my head, or roll about on the
leaves or ruins of branch and bark, or laugh or sing, who could oppose?
Being thus absolute monarch and supreme arbiter over myself, I should
enjoy for a brief period perfect felicity.
That impulse to jump, to bound, to spring upward and cling to branches
overhead, which is the characteristic of a strong green age, I gave free
rein to. Unfettered for a time from all conventionalisms, and absolved
from that sobriety and steadiness which my position as a leader of half
wild men compelled me to assume in their presence, all my natural
elasticity of body came back to me. I dived under the obstructing bough
or sprang over the prostrate trunk, squeezed into almost impossible
places, crawled and writhed like a serpent through the tangled
undergrowth, plunged down into formidable depths of dense foliage, and
burrowed and struggled with frantic energy among shadowing pyramids of
vines and creepers, which had become woven and plaited by their numbers
into a solid mass.
What eccentricities of creation I became acquainted with in this
truanting in the wild woods! Ants, red, black, yellow, grey, white, and
parti-coloured, peopling a miniature world with unknown emmet races.
Here were some members of the belligerent warrior caste always
threatening the harmless, and seeking whom they might annoy, and there
the ferocious food-providers, active for the attack, ranging bole,
bough, twigs and leaf for prey; the meek and industrious artisans
absorbed in defending the poor privilege of a short existence; the
frugal neuters tugging enormous loads towards their cunningly
constructed nests; sentries on watch at the doors to defend the
approaches to their fastnesses. They swarmed among the foliage in
columns of foraging and plundering marauders and countless hordes of
ruthless destroyers. In the decaying vegetation I heard all around me
the xylophagous larvæ of great beetles hard at work by thousands, and
saw myriads of termites destroying with industrious fury everything that
lay in their path, whether animal or vegetable. Armies of psyllæ and
moths innumerable were startled from the bushes, and from every bough
shrilled the tiresome cicada, ever noisy. Here the relentless ant-lions
prepared their pitfalls, and there the ghostly mantis, green or grey,
stood waiting for unwary insects. Diamond beetles abounded, and many
other species, uncouth and horrid, scrambled away from before my feet.
Nor are these a thousandth part of the insect nations that I disturbed;
the secluded island was a world of infinite activities.
Beyond the flats I came at last to where the ground sloped upward
rapidly, though still clothed with tall trees and their parasitical
plants and undergrowth; and in spite of the intense heat, I continued my
exploration, determined to view the upper regions. Clambering up the
steep side, I had a large choice of supports; here a tamarind and next a
bombax, now a projecting branch of mimosa and now a thick lliane, hung
down, inviting me to haul myself upward and forward: the young and
pliant teak sapling or slender jasmine bent as I seized them to assist
my labouring feet, and at last I emerged above the trees and the tangle
of meshed undergrowth, and stood upright on the curious spiky grass,
studded with wild pine-apple, ground orchids and aloes, which covered
the summit.
After a general look around the island, I discovered it was in the
form of a rudely shaped boot-last, lying east and west, the lowest
parts being the flats through which I had just struggled. It was about
three-quarters of a mile long and about 200 yards wide. The heel
was formed by a narrow projecting ledge rising about 50 feet nearly
perpendicularly from the water. From this ledge rose the rock 80 feet
above it, and 130 feet therefore above the water.
I gazed long on the grand encircling prospect. A halcyon calm brooded
on the lake, eastward, northward, and southward, until the clear
sky and stainless silver water met, the clear bounds of both veiled
by a gauzy vapour, suggesting infinity. In a bold, majestic mass to
the south-east rose Alice Island, while a few miles south-east of
it appeared the Bumbireh group. Opposite me, to the west, and two
miles from where I stood, was the long cliffy front of the plateau of
Uzongora, its slowly-rising summit gemmed with patches of evergreen
banana, until it became banked in the distance by lines of hazy blue
mountains.
It is a spot from which, undisturbed, the eye may rove over one of the
strangest yet fairest portions of Africa—hundreds of square miles of
beautiful lake scenes—a great length of grey plateau wall, upright and
steep, but indented with exquisite inlets, half surrounded by embowering
plantains—-hundreds of square miles of pastoral upland dotted thickly
with villages and groves of banana. From my lofty eyrie I can see herds
upon herds of cattle, and many minute specks, white and black, which can
be nothing but flocks of sheep and goats. I can also see pale blue
columns of ascending smoke from the fires, and upright thin figures
moving about. Secure on my lofty throne, I can view their movements and
laugh at the ferocity of the savage hearts which beat in those thin dark
figures; for I am a part of Nature now, and for the present as
invulnerable as itself. As little do they know that human eyes survey
their forms from the summit of this lake-girt isle as that the eyes of
the Supreme in heaven are upon them. How long, I wonder, shall the
people of these lands remain thus ignorant of Him who created the
gorgeous sunlit world they look upon each day from their lofty upland!
How long shall their untamed ferocity be a barrier to the Gospel, and
how long shall they remain unvisited by the Teacher!
What a land they possess! and what an inland sea! How steamers afloat on
the lake might cause Ururi to shake hands with Uzongora, and Uganda with
Usukuma, make the wild Wavuma friends with the Wazinza, and unite the
Wakerewé with the Wagana! A great trading port might then spring up on
the Shimeeyu, whence the coffee of Uzongora, the ivory, sheep, and goats
of Ugeyeya, Usoga, Uvuma, and Uganda, the cattle of Uwya, Karagwé,
Usagara, Ihangiro, and Usukuma, the myrrh, cassia, and furs and hides of
Uganda and Uddu, the rice of Ukerewé, and the grain of Uzinza, might be
exchanged for the fabrics brought from the coast; all the land be
redeemed from wildness, the industry and energy of the natives
stimulated, the havoc of the slave-trade stopped, and all the countries
round about permeated with the nobler ethics of a higher humanity. But
at present the hands of the people are lifted—murder in their hearts—one
against the other; ferocity is kindled at sight of the wayfarer; piracy
is the acknowledged profession of the Wavuma; the people of Ugeyeya and
Wasoga go stark naked; Mtesa impales, burns, and maims his victims; the
Wirigedi lie in wait along their shores for the stranger, and the
slingers of the islands practise their art against him; the Wakara
poison anew their deadly arrows at sight of a canoe; and each tribe,
with rage and hate in its heart, remains aloof from the other. “Verily,
the dark places of the earth are full of the habitations of cruelty.”
Oh for the hour when a band of philanthropic capitalists shall vow to
rescue these beautiful lands, and supply the means to enable the Gospel
messengers to come and quench the murderous hate with which man beholds
man in the beautiful lands around Lake Victoria!
I descended from the lofty height, the summit of Musira Island, by
another way, which disclosed to me the character of the rocky island,
and exposed to my view the precipitous walls of shale, rifted and
indented by ages of atmospheric influences, that surround the island
upon all sides but the western. After great difficulty I succeeded in
getting upon the top of a portion of an upper ledge that had fallen on
the north-east corner and now formed a separate projection about 30 feet
high. In a cavernous recess upon the summit of it, I discovered six
human bodies in a state of decomposition, half covered with grass and
débris of rock. One of the skulls showed the mark of a hatchet, which
made me suspect that a tragedy had occurred here but a short time
before. No doubt the horrible event took place on the island on the
ground occupied by our camp, for there was no other spot where such a
deed could have been wrought, and probably the victims were taken in
canoes, and deposited in this hidden recess, that strangers might not be
alarmed at the sight of the bodies, or of such evidence of violence as
the hatchet-cleft skull. Probably, also, these strangers were murdered
for their cargo of coffee or of butter by the natives of the mainland,
or by a later arrival of strangers like my own Waganda, who because of
their numerical superiority had begun their molestation and robbery of
the coffee traders, without other cause than that they were strong and
the traders weak.
About 5 P.M., having long before returned to camp, I saw on the horizon
Magassa’s fleet of canoes, and counted fourteen. I despatched Safeni and
some of the Waganda in a canoe to the small islands we passed just
before reaching Makongo, begging Magassa to hasten and join me early
next morning, as we were short of provisions, and starvation would ensue
if we were delayed in our voyage. Safeni returned about 9 P.M. with a
request from Magassa that I would go on as early as I wished, and a
promise that he would follow me to camp.
_April 26._—I waited, however, for Magassa until 10 A.M., and as Alice
Island—which Sentum and Sentageya advised me was the best place to touch
at in order to make a short course for Usukuma—was about thirty miles
from Musira, I could delay no longer. It was then agreed that Sentum
should stay at Musira Island until Magassa arrived, and inform him of
the direction which Sentageya and I had taken.
We had proceeded on our voyage but three miles when Sentageya turned
back with all speed towards Musira, waving his hand to me to continue my
journey. Imagining that he had merely forgotten something, I did as he
directed.
We reached Alice Island about 9 P.M., for we had been delayed by a
strong head wind since 4 P.M. As it was pitch-dark, we were guided to a
camping-place by a flickering light which we saw on the shore. The light
for which we steered was that of a fire kindled by two men and a boy,
who were drying fish in a cavern the entrance of which opened on the
lake. Though the fishermen were rather frightened at first, they were
discreet enough to remain passive; and to calm their fears, I assumed an
air of extreme blandness and amiability. It being late, I prepared to
rest in the stern-sheets of my boat, but as I was about to lie down, I
heard the natives expostulating. I knew by this that the boat’s crew
must be committing depredations on their fish stores; so I sprang out—
and only just in time to save them a serious loss. Murabo had already
made himself master of half-a-dozen large fish, when I came up with
naked feet behind him, announcing my arrival by a staggering blow, which
convinced the fishermen better than any amount of blandness and
affectation of amiability could have done, that I was sincere, and
convinced the Wangwana also that injustice would not be permitted. The
fishermen received a handful of beads as an atonement for the attempted
spoliation, and to secure the Wangwana against further temptation, I
gave them double rations.
_April 27._—The next morning, when I woke, I found that we were camped
under the shadow of a basaltic cliff, about 50 feet high, at the base of
which was the fishermen’s cavern, extending about 15 feet within. The
island was lofty, about 400 feet above the lake at its highest part,
nearly four miles in length, and a mile and a half across at its
greatest breadth. The inhabitants consisted of about forty families from
Ukerewé, and owned King Lukongeh as their liege lord.
The summit of Alice Island is clothed with an abundance of coarse grass,
and the ravines and hollows are choked with a luxuriance of vegetable
life—trees, plants, ferns, ground orchids, and wild pine-apples: along
the water’s edge there waves a thin strip of water-cane. The people
became fast friends with us, but their keen trading instincts impelled
them to demand such exorbitant prices for every article, that we were
unable to purchase more than a few ears of corn. I obtained a view from
the summit with my field-glass, but I could distinguish nothing east or
south-east. South-west we saw the Bumbireh group, and to purchase food
we were compelled to proceed thither—disagreeably convinced that we had
lost a whole day by calling at Alice Island, whereas, had we kept a
direct course to the south, we might have reached the Bumbireh group in
a few hours.
_April 28._—As we started only at noon from Alice Island, being delayed
by expectations of seeing Magassa, and also by the necessity for
purchasing something even at high prices to prevent starvation, we did
not reach Barker’s Island—the easternmost of the Bumbireh group—until
night, which we passed most miserably in a little cove surrounded by
impenetrable brushwood. It was one downpour of rain throughout the whole
night, which compelled us to sit up shivering and supperless, for, to
crown our discomforts, we had absolutely nothing to eat. No more abject
objects can be imagined than the human beings that occupied the boat
through the hours of darkness. There were my crew all sitting as closely
as possible, back to back or side by side, on the oars and boards which
they had arranged like a platform on the thwarts, and I sitting alone
under the awning in the stern sheets, wearily trying to outline their
figures, or vaguely taking mental notes of the irregularities of the
bush, with occasional hasty glances at the gloomy sky, or at Bumbireh,
whose black mass looked grim and lofty in the dark, and all the time the
rain kept pouring down with a steady malignant impetuosity. I doubt if
even the happiest hours which may fall to my lot in the future will ever
obliterate from my memory that dismal night of discomfort and hunger.
But as it generally happens, the dismal night was followed by a
beautiful, bright morning. Every inch of nature that we could scan
seemed revivified, refreshed, and gay, except the little world which the
boat contained. We were eager to renew our acquaintance with humanity,
for only by contact with others could we live. We accordingly sailed for
Bumbireh, which lay about two miles from Barker’s Island, and ran down
the coast in search of a cove and haven for our boat, while we should be
bartering our beads for edibles.
Bumbireh Island is about eleven miles in extreme length by two miles
greatest breadth. It is in appearance a hilly range, with a tolerably
even and softly rolling summit line clothed with short grass. Its slopes
are generally steep, yet grassy or cultivated. It contains probably
fifty small villages, averaging about twenty huts to a village, and if
we calculate four souls to each hut, we have a population of about 4000
including all ages.
Herds of cattle grazed on the summit and slopes; a tolerably large
acreage here and there showed a brown soil upturned for planting, while
extensive banana groves marked most of the village sites. There was a
kindly and prosperous aspect about the island.
As soon as we had sailed a little distance along the coast, we caught
sight of a few figures which broke the even and smooth outline of the
grassy summit, and heard the well-known melodious war-cries employed
by most of the Central African tribes, “Hehu-a-hehu-u-u-u!” loud,
long-drawn, and ringing.
The figures increased in number, and fresh voices joined in the defiant
and alarming note. Still, hungry wretches as we were, environed by
difficulties of all kinds, just beginning to feel warm after the cold
and wet of the night before, with famine gnawing at our vitals, leagues
upon leagues of sea between us and our friends at Usukuma, and nothing
eatable in our boat, we were obliged to risk something, reminding
ourselves “that there are no circumstances so desperate which Providence
may not relieve.”
At 9 A.M. we discovered a cove near the south-east end of the long
island, and pulled slowly into it. Immediately the natives rushed down
the slopes, shouting war-cries and uttering fierce ejaculations. When
about 50 yards from the shore, I bade the men cease rowing, but Safeni
and Baraka became eloquent, and said, “It is almost always the case,
master, with savages. They cry out, and threaten, and look big, but you
will see that all that noise will cease as soon as they hear us speak.
Besides, if we leave here without food, where shall we obtain it?”
The last argument was unanswerable, and though I gave no orders to
resume their oars, four of the men impelled the boat on slowly, while
Safeni and Baraka prepared themselves to explain to the natives, who
were now close within hearing, as they came rushing to the water’s edge.
I saw some lift great stones, while others prepared their bows.
We were now about 10 yards from the beach, and Safeni and Baraka spoke,
earnestly pointing to their mouths, and by gestures explaining that
their bellies were empty. They smiled with insinuating faces; uttered
the words “brothers,” “friends,” “good fellows,” most volubly; cunningly
interpolated the words Mtesa—the _Kabaka_—Uganda, and Antari king of
Ihangiro, to whom Bumbireh belongs. Safeni and Baraka’s pleasant
volubility seemed to have produced a good effect, for the stones were
dropped, the bows were unstrung, and the lifted spears lowered to assist
the steady, slow-walking pace with which they now advanced.
Tafeni and Baraka turned to me triumphantly and asked, “What did we say,
master?” and then, with engaging frankness, invited the natives, who
were now about two hundred in number, to come closer. The natives
consulted a little while, and several—now smiling pleasantly themselves—
advanced leisurely into the water until they touched the boat’s prow.
They stood a few seconds talking sweetly, when suddenly with a rush they
ran the boat ashore, and then all the others, seizing hawser and
gunwale, dragged her about 20 yards over the rocky beach high and dry,
leaving us almost stupefied with astonishment!
Then ensued a scene which beggars description. Pandemonium—all its
devils armed—raged around us. A forest of spears was levelled; thirty or
forty bows were drawn taut; as many barbed arrows seemed already on the
wing; thick, knotty clubs waved above our heads; two hundred screaming
black demons jostled with each other and struggled for room to vent
their fury, or for an opportunity to deliver one crushing blow or thrust
at us.
In the meantime, as soon as the first symptoms of this manifestation of
violence had been observed, I had sprung to my feet, each hand armed
with a loaded self-cocking revolver, to kill and be killed. But the
apparent hopelessness of inflicting much injury upon such a large crowd
restrained me, and Safeni turned to me, though almost cowed to dumbness
by the loud fury around us, and pleaded with me to be patient. I
complied, seeing that I should get no aid from my crew; but, while
bitterly blaming myself for my imprudence in having yielded—against my
instincts—to placing myself in the power of such savages, I vowed that,
if I escaped this once, my own judgment should guide my actions for the
future.
I assumed a resigned air, though I still retained my revolvers. My crew
also bore the first outburst of the tempest of shrieking rage which
assailed them with almost sublime imperturbability. Safeni crossed his
arms with the meekness of a saint. Baraka held his hands palms outward,
asking with serene benignity, “What, my friends, ails you? Do you fear
empty hands and smiling people like us? We are friends, we came as
friends to buy food, two or three bananas, a few mouthfuls of grain, or
potatoes, or muhogo (cassava), and, if you permit us, we shall depart as
friends.”
Our demeanour had a great effect. The riot and noise seemed to be
subsiding, when some fifty new-comers rekindled the smouldering fury.
Again the forest of spears swayed on the launch, again the knotty clubs
were whirled aloft, again the bows were drawn, and again the barbed
arrows seemed flying. Safeni received a push which sent him tumbling,
little Kirango received a blow on the head with a spear-staff, Saramba
gave a cry as a club descended on his back.
I sprang up this time to remonstrate, with the two revolvers in my left
hand. I addressed myself to an elder, who seemed to be restraining the
people from proceeding too far. I showed him beads, cloth, wire, and
invoked the names of Mtesi, and Antari their king.
The sight of the heaps of beads and cloth I exposed awakened, however,
the more deliberate passions of selfishness and greed in each heart. An
attempt at massacre, they began to argue, would certainly entail the
loss of some of themselves. “Guns might be seized and handled with
terrible effect even by dying men, and who knows what those little iron
things in the white man’s hands are?” they seemed to be asking
themselves. The elder, whatever he thought, responded with an
affectation of indignation, raised his stick, and to right and left of
him drove back the demoniac crowd. Other prominent men now assisted this
elder, whom we subsequently discovered to be Shekka, the king of
Bumbireh.
Shekka then, having thus bestirred himself, beckoned to half-a-dozen
men and walked away a few yards behind the mass. It was the “shauri,”
dear to a free and independent African’s heart, that was about to be
held. Half the crowd followed the king and his council, while the other
half remained to indulge their violent, vituperative tongues on us,
and to continually menace us with either club or spear. An audacious
party came round the stern of the boat and, with superlatively hideous
gestures, affronted me; one of them even gave a tug at my hair,
thinking it was a wig. I avenged myself by seizing his hand, and
suddenly bending it back almost dislocated it, causing him to howl with
pain. His comrades swayed their lances, but I smilingly looked at them,
for all idea of self-preservation had now almost fled.
The issue had surely arrived. There had been just one brief moment of
agony when I reflected how unlovely death appears in such guise as that
in which it then threatened me. What would my people think as they
anxiously waited for the never returning master! What would Pocock and
Barker say when they heard of the tragedy of Bumbireh! And my friends in
America and Europe! “Tut, it is only a brief moment of pain, and then
what can the ferocious dogs do more? It is a consolation that, if
anything, it will be short, sharp, sudden—a gasp, and then a silence—for
ever and ever!” And after that I was ready for the fight and for death.
“Now, my black friends, do your worst; anything you choose; I am ready.”
A messenger from the king and the council arrives, and beckons Safeni. I
said to him, “Safeni, use your wit.” “Please God, master,” he replied.
Safeni drew nearly all the crowd after him, for curiosity is strong in
the African. I saw him pose himself. A born diplomatist was Safeni. His
hands moved up and down, outward and inward; a cordial frankness sat
naturally on his face; his gestures were graceful; the man was an
orator, pleading for mercy and justice.
Safeni returned, his face radiant. “It is all right, master, there is no
fear. They say we must stop here until to-morrow.”
“Will they sell us food?”
“Oh, yes, as soon as they settle their shauri.”
While Safeni was speaking, six men rushed up and seized the oars.
Safeni, though hitherto politic, lost temper at this, and endeavoured to
prevent them. They raised their clubs to strike him. I shouted, “Let
them go, Safeni.”
A loud cheer greeted the seizure of the oars. I became convinced now
that this one little act would lead to others; for man is the same all
over the world. Set a beggar on horseback, and he will ride to the
devil; give a slave an inch, and he will take an ell; if a man submit
once, he must be prepared to submit again.
The “shauri” proceeded. Another messenger came, demanding five cloths
and five fundo of necklaces. They were delivered. But as it was now near
noon, and they were assured we could not escape, the savages withdrew to
their nearest village to refresh themselves with wine and food.
After the warriors had departed, some women came to look at us. We spoke
kindly to them, and in return they gave us the consoling assurance that
we should be killed; but they said that if we could induce Shekka to
make blood-brotherhood, or to eat honey with one of us, we should be
safe. If we failed, there was only flight or death. We thanked them, but
we would wait.
About 3 P.M. we heard a number of drums beaten. Safeni was told that if
the natives collected again he must endeavour to induce Shekka with
gifts to go through the process of blood-brotherhood.
A long line of natives in full war costume appeared on the crest of the
terrace, on which the banana grove and village of Kajurri stood. Their
faces were smeared with black and white pigments. Almost all of them
bore the peculiar shields of Usongora. Their actions were such as the
dullest-witted of us recognised as indicating hostilities.
Even Safeni and Baraka were astounded, and their first words were,
“Prepare, master. Truly, this is trouble.”
“Never mind me,” I replied, “I have been ready these three hours. Are
you ready, your guns and revolvers loaded, and your ears open this
time?”
“We are,” they all firmly answered.
“Don’t be afraid; be quite cool. We will try, while they are collecting
together, the woman’s suggestion. Go frankly and smilingly, Safeni, up
to Shekka, on the top of that hill, and offer him these three fundo of
beads, and ask him to exchange blood with you.”
Safeni proceeded readily on his errand, for there was no danger to him
bodily while we were there within 150 yards, and their full power as yet
unprepared. For ten minutes he conversed with them, while the drums kept
beating, and numbers of men bepainted for war were increasing Shekka’s
force. Some of them entertained us by demonstrating with their spears
how they fought; others whirled their clubs like tipsy Irishmen at
Donnybrook fair. Their gestures were wild, their voices were shrill and
fierce, they were kindling themselves into a fighting fever.
Safeni returned. Shekka had refused the pledge of peace. The natives now
mustered over 300.
Presently fifty bold fellows came rushing down, uttering a shrill cry.
Without hesitation they came straight to the boat, and, hissing
something to us, seized our Kiganda drum. It was such a small affair we
did not resist; still the manner in which it was taken completely
undeceived us, if any small hope of peace remained. Loud applause
greeted the act of gallantry.
Then two men came towards us, and began to drive some cows away that
were grazing between us and the men on the hill. Safeni asked one of
them, “Why do you do that?”
“Because we are going to begin fighting presently, and if you are men,
you may begin to prepare yourselves,” he said scornfully.
“Thanks, my bold friend,” I muttered to myself. “Those are the truest
words we have heard to-day.”
The two men were retiring up the hill. “Here Safeni,” I said, “take
these two fine red cloths in your hand; walk slowly up after them a
little way, and the minute you hear my voice run back; and you, my boys,
this is for life and death, mind; range yourselves on each side of the
boat, lay your hands on it carelessly, but with a firm grip, and when I
give the word, push it with the force of a hundred men down the hill
into the water. Are you all ready, and do you think you can do it?
Otherwise we might as well begin fighting where we are.”
“Yes, Inshallah Master,” they cried out with one voice.
“Go, Safeni!”
I waited until he had walked fifty yards away, and saw that he acted
precisely as I had instructed him.
“Push, my boys; push for your lives!”
The crew bent their heads and strained their arms; the boat began to
move, and there was a hissing, grinding noise below me. I seized my
double-barrelled elephant rifle and shouted, “Safeni! Safeni, return!”
The natives were quick-eyed. They saw the boat moving, and with one
accord they swept down the hill uttering the most fearful cries.
My boat was at the water’s edge. “Shoot her into the lake, my men; never
mind the water”; and clear of all obstructions she darted out upon the
lake.
Safeni stood for an instant on the water’s edge, with the cloths in his
hand. The foremost of a crowd of natives was about twenty yards from
him. He raised his spear and balanced himself.
“Spring into the water, man, head first,” I cried.
The balanced spear was about to fly, and another man was preparing his
weapon for a deadly cast, when I raised my gun and the bullet ploughed
through him and through the second. The bowmen halted and drew their
bows. I sent two charges of duck-shot into their midst with terrible
effect. The natives retreated from the beach on which the boat had
lately lain.
Having checked the natives, I assisted one of my men into the boat, and
ordered him to lend a hand to the others, while I reloaded my big guns,
keeping my eyes on the natives. There was a point about 100 yards in
length on the east, which sheltered the cove. Some of the natives made a
rush for this, but my guns commanded the exposed position, and they were
obliged to retire.
The crew seized their rifles, but I told them to leave them alone, and
to tear the bottom-boards out of the boat and use them as paddles; for
there were two hippopotami advancing upon us open-mouthed, and it seemed
as if we were to be crushed in the water after such a narrow escape from
the ferocious people ashore. I permitted one of the hippos to approach
within ten yards, and, aiming between his eyes, perforated his skull
with a three-ounce ball, and the second received such a wound that we
were not molested by him.
Meanwhile the savages, baffled and furious at seeing their prey escape,
had rushed, after a short consultation, to man two canoes that were
drawn up on the beach at the north-west corner of the cove. Twice I
dropped men as they endeavoured to launch the boats; but they persisted,
and finally, launching them, pursued us vigorously. Two other canoes
were seen coming down the coast from the eastern side of the island.
Unable to escape, we stopped after we had got out of the cove, and
waited for them.
My elephant rifle was loaded with explosive balls for this occasion.
Four shots killed five men and sank two of the canoes. The two others
retired to assist their friends out of the water. They attempted nothing
further, but some of those on shore had managed to reach the point, and
as we resumed our paddles, we heard a voice cry out, “Go and die in the
Nyanza!” and saw them shoot their arrows, which fell harmlessly a few
yards behind us. We were saved!
It was 5 P.M. We had only four bananas in the boat, and we were twelve
hungry men. If we had a strong fair breeze, a day and a night would
suffice to enable us to reach our camp. But if we had head-winds, the
journey might occupy a month. Meanwhile, after the experience of
Makongo, Alice Island, and Bumbireh, where should we apply for food?
Fresh water we had in abundance, sufficient to satisfy the thirst of all
the armies of the world for a century. But food? Whither should we turn
for it?
A gentle breeze came from the island. We raised the lug sail, hoping
that it would continue fair for a south-east course. But at 7 P.M. it
fell a dead calm. We resumed our extemporized paddles—those thin weak
bottom-boards. Our progress was about three-quarters of a mile per hour.
Throughout the night we laboured, cheering one another. In the morning
not a speck of land was visible: all was a boundless circle of grey
water.
_April 29._—About 9 A.M. a squall came fair and drove us about eight
miles to the south; about 10.30 it became calm again, but still we
paddled unceasingly. At night we found ourselves about seven miles away
from an island to the southward of us, and we made noble efforts to
reach it. But a gale came up from the south-west, against which it was
useless to contend. The crew were fatigued and weakened after paddling
forty-nine hours without food.
We resigned ourselves to the waves and the rain that was falling in
sheets, and the driving tempest. Up and down we rose and sank on the
great waves, battered from side to side, swung round, plunged in dark
hollows, and bathed in spray. We baled the boat out, and again sat down.
At midnight the gale moderated and the moon rose, throwing a weird light
upon the face of the lake and its long heaving billows, which still
showed high crests whitened with foam. Up and down we rose and plunged.
The moon now shone clear upon the boat and her wretched crew, ghastlily
lighting up the crouching, wearied, despairing forms, from which there
sometimes rose deep sighs that wrung my heart. “Cheer up, my lads, think
nothing of the curse of those of Bumbireh; bad men’s curses sometimes
turn out blessings,” I said, to encourage them. One of the thwarts was
chopped up, and we made a fire, and with some of the coffee which I had
obtained from Colonel Linant at Mtesa’s we felt somewhat refreshed. And
then, completely wearied out, they all slept, but I watched, busy with
my thoughts.
_April 30._—The morning came, the morning of the 30th of April, and
though my men had only eaten four bananas between them and tasted,
besides, a cup of coffee since 10 A.M. of the 27th, they nevertheless,
sixty-eight hours afterwards, when I urged them to resume their paddles
that we might reach an island twelve miles south of us, rallied to my
appeal with a manliness which won my admiration, responding with heroic
will but, alas! with little strength.
At 2 P.M.—seventy-six hours after leaving Alice Island—we approached a
cove in an uninhabited island, which I have distinguished on the chart
by the name of “Refuge.” We crawled out of the boat, and each of us
thanked God for even this little mercy and lay down on the glowing sand
to rest.
But food must be obtained before night. Baraka and Safeni were sent to
explore the interior in one direction, Murabo and Marzouk in another.
Robert and Hamoidah were set to kindle a fire, and I took my shot-gun to
shoot birds. Within half an hour I had obtained a brace of large fat
ducks; Baraka and Safeni returned each with two bunches of young green
bananas, and Murabo and his comrade had discovered some luscious berries
like cherries.
And what glad souls were we that evening around our camp fire with
this gracious abundance to which a benignant Providence had led us,
storm-tossed, bruised, and hungry creatures that we were but a few
hours before! Bananas, ducks, berries, and coffee! The tobacco gourd
and pipe closed one of the most delicious evenings I ever remember to
have passed. No wonder that before retiring, feeling ourselves indebted
to the Supreme Being, who had preserved us through so many troubles, we
thanked Him for His mercies and His bounties.
_May 2._—We rested another day on Refuge Island to make oars; and
further explorations enabled us to procure half-a-dozen more bunches of
bananas. Our appetites were so keen that there was but little left next
morning by the time we were ready to start afresh. With oar and sail we
set out for Singo Island. Perceiving it was uninhabited, we steered for
Ito Island, the slopes of which were rich with plantains, but the
natives slung stones at us, and we were therefore obliged to continue on
our way to the Kuneneh group, near the peninsula of Ukerewé.
_May 4._—On the afternoon of the 4th of May, a stormy head-wind rising,
we were compelled to turn into the cove of Wiru, where, through the
influence of Saramba the guide, who was at home in this country, we were
hospitably received, and meat, potatoes, milk, honey, bananas both ripe
and green, eggs and poultry, were freely sold to us. We cooked these
delicacies on board, and ate them with such relish and appetite as only
half-starved men can appreciate.
_May 5._—Hoping to reach our camp next morning, we set sail at 9 P.M.,
steering across Speke Gulf. But about 3 A.M., when we were nearly in
mid-gulf, the fickle wind failed us, and then, as if resolved we should
taste to the uttermost the extreme of suffering, it met us with a
tempest from the N.N.E., as fearful in other respects as that which we
experienced at Usuguru, but with the fresh torments added of hailstones
as large as filberts. The sky was robed in inky blackness, not a star
was visible, vivid lightnings flashed accompanied by loud thunder
crashes, and furious waves tossed us about as though we were imprisoned
in a gourd, the elements thus combining to multiply the terrors of our
situation. Again we resigned the boat to wind and wave, as all our
efforts to keep our course were unavailing.
We began to think that the curse of the people of Bumbireh, “Go and die
in the Nyanza,” might be realized after all—though I had much faith in
the staunch craft which Messenger of Teddington so conscientiously
constructed.
_May 6._—A grey, cheerless morning dawned at last, and we discovered
ourselves to be ten miles north of Rwoma, and about twenty miles
north-west of Kagehyi. We put forth our best efforts, hoisted sail, and
though the wind was but little in our favour at first, it soon veered
round, and sent us sailing merrily over the tall waves, and along the
coast of Usukuma, straight towards camp.
Shouts of welcome greeted us from shore, for the people had recognized
us by our sail when miles away, and as we drew nearer the shouts
changed to volleys of musketry, and the waving of flags, and the land
seemed alive with leaping forms of the glad-hearted men. For we had
been fifty-seven days away from our people, and many a false rumour had
reached them of our deaths, strengthened each day that our return was
deferred and our absence grew longer. But the sight of the exploring
boat sailing towards Kagehyi dissipated all alarm, concern, and fear.
As the keel grounded, fifty men bounded into the water, dragged me from
the boat, and danced me round the camp on their shoulders, amid much
laughter, and clapping of hands, grotesque wriggling of forms, and real
Saxon hurrahing.
Frank Pocock was there, his face lit up by fulness of joy, but when I
asked him where Frederick Barker was, and why he did not come to welcome
me, Frank’s face clouded with the sudden recollection of our loss, as he
answered, “Because he died twelve days ago, Sir, and he lies there,”
pointing gravely to a low mound of earth by the lake!
[Illustration:
CAIRN ERECTED TO THE MEMORY OF FREDERICK BARKER:
MAJITA, AND URIRWI MOUNTAINS IN THE DISTANCE, ACROSS SPEKE GULF.
(_From a photograph by the Author._)]
]
-----
# 14:
Owing to the events which are recorded in this chapter I was unable to
return to Mtesa’s capital within the time specified to M. Linant, but
it is evident that my friend waited nearly six weeks for me. He
sustained a fierce attack for fourteen hours from several thousand
Wanyoro _en route_ to Ismailia, but finally succeeded in making his
escape, and reaching Colonel Gordon’s headquarters in safety. On the
26th August, however, being on another mission, he was attacked by the
Baris near a place called Labore, and he and his party of thirty-six
soldiers were massacred. This sad event occurred four days after I
returned on my second visit to the Ripon Falls.
CHAPTER XI.
Barker’s illness and death—Other deaths—Traitors in the camp—Rest!—
Sickness—Rwoma blocks our passage by land—Magassa fails us by water—A
serious dilemma—Lukongeh comes to the rescue—History of Ukerewé—
Educated amphibians—Leaving Kagehyi with half the Expedition—The
foundering canoes—All saved—Ito conciliates us—Arrival at Refuge
Island with half the Expedition—I return for the rest—A murderous
outbreak in camp—Final departure from Kagehyi—All encamped on Refuge
Island—We ally ourselves with Komeh—A dance of kings—Mahyiga Island
(in the Bumbireh group)—Interviewed by Iroba canoes—Our friendship
scorned—The king of Bumbireh a hostage—The massacre of the Kytawa
chief and his crew—The punishment of the murderers—Its salutary effect
upon their neighbours—We arrive in Uganda.
_May 6._—When the hysterical congratulations of the Expedition had
somewhat slackened, Prince Kaduma and the friends of Saramba, the guide
(who was now quite a hero), and Frank accompanied me to my hut—the dogs
Jack and Bull following—to give me a brief narrative of the events that
had transpired.
Fred Barker, according to Frank, had good health till the middle of
April; after which he began to experience aguish fits. On the 22nd he
had enjoyed a hippopotamus hunt on the shore between Kagehyi and Lutari,
and on the morning of the 23rd had bathed in the lake and eaten a hearty
early breakfast. At 9 A.M., however, he complained of feeling ill, and
lay down. Almost immediately a cold fit seized him, and his blood seemed
to stagnate in its veins. Frank and Barker’s servants employed their
utmost art to increase the warmth of his body. They administered brandy
and hot tea, put heated stones to his feet, and piled blanket after
blanket upon him, but the congealed blood would not run, and at 11 A.M.
the poor young man was dead.
“At 3 P.M. we buried him,” said Frank, “close to the Nyanza. Poor
fellow! many and many a time he said during the last few days, ‘I wish
the master would come back. I should then feel as if there were some
chance of life for me, but I shall die stagnating and rotting here if he
does not come.’ I think, Sir, he would have pulled through had you been
here.”
I missed young Barker very much. He had begun to endear himself to me by
his bright intelligence and valuable services. When ill, my least wish
was immediately gratified: he understood the least motion or sign. He
was also a good writer, and he kept the accounts of the various stores,
cloths, and beads. He was an admirable companion to Frank, and the two
young men were good company for me; they had also won the hearts of the
Wangwana by their gentle, amiable conduct. An oath or a profane word I
seldom heard from either of them; and when angry, their anger at the
stupidity or insolence of the people was of the passive kind; they never
resorted to violence without appealing to me.
But Frank had other bad news to tell. Mabruki Speke, whom Burton
called the bull-headed—the faithful servant of Burton and Speke, Speke
and Grant, of myself on the first expedition, of Livingstone on his
last journey, and one of the most trusted men of my present following
from Zanzibar to Lake Victoria—was dead. Jabiri (one of the stout
boat-bearers) was dead, and so was old Akida, besides three others.
All had died of dysentery. Msenna the “bully of Zanzibar” had broken
out once more, after nearly six months of good behaviour. I arrived at
Kagehyi on the 5th of May from the exploration of the lake; on the 6th
he was to have led a body of sixty men to Unyanyembé, if the master did
not return!
Kipingiri, chief of Lutari, and brother of Kaduma, chief of Kagehyi, had
formed a conspiracy with Kurrereh, chief of Kyenzi, and the chief of
Igusa, to unite their forces to attack and plunder the camp. But the
Wangwana chiefs, Manwa Sera and Kachéché, had discovered the plot, and
Frank and Fred Barker, after sounding Kaduma, had distributed
ammunition, with every intention of employing their best abilities to
resist the attack. Prince Kaduma’s loyalty to his absent friend, and
Frank and Fred’s bold conduct, with the sudden death of the chief of
Igusa, had caused Kipingiri to abandon the wicked conspiracy.
Frank informed me also that he had suffered one or two slight attacks of
fever, but that he had “easily shaken them off.” The Wangwana were
wonderfully recovered from the miserable attenuation which the scant
fare of Ugogo and Urimi had wrought in their frames, and some were so
robust and fat that I scarcely knew them. Upon examining the stock of
goods left in the store-room, I was gratified to discover that Frank had
been extremely economical. I found him in perfect accord with Prince
Kaduma, good friends with Sungoro, and respected by the Wangwana; and on
inspecting his work, there was nothing in his conduct that did not
deserve hearty approval and commendation.
_May 7._—Our return to Kagehyi was followed by Sabbath repose and
rest, fairly earned and much needed. When I placed myself under the
spring-balance scales, I found I weighed only 115 lbs., just 63 lbs.
less than when leaving Zanzibar. Frank Pocock weighed 162 lbs.! I saved
this excessive reduction of flesh to scant fare and days of hunger, not
to sickness.
Sweet were those first days of rest! Frank was eager to hear all that
had befallen us, in our 1000 miles’ sail round the lake, and the
Wangwana formed circles many deep, to hear the Iliad of our woes. What
hearty sympathisers these poor, black, untutored men were! Kaduma was
all amazement, and Sungoro never ceased to express his wonder as to how
we managed to go round the lake in the “little boat.” The Wasukuma
extemporized songs in her honour, which they sang in the evenings; and
the naked urchins made miniature boats out of the stem of the banana,
with twigs as masts and leaves for sails. The influence of one example
had, it seemed to me, already produced fruit here, and the efforts of
the little ones proved to me that the natives needed but one or two more
such examples to stimulate them to similar enterprises. Future explorers
will find many ready to imitate bold Saramba’s conduct as guides, and
the Wasukuma may become in future as docile boatmen as they are capable
porters and steady travellers on land.
Then came sickness. The African fever having found my frame weakened
from privations attacked me vigorously one day after another. Three
fevers reduced me 7 lbs. in weight. But I quininized myself thoroughly
from dawn of day to set of sun, and on the fifth day stepped out,
sallow, pale, weak, and trembling, it is true, with jaundiced eyes,
palpitating heart, and ringing ears—but the fever had been conquered.
Where was Magassa with his canoes? Day after day we hoped and wished he
would appear, but his canoes were never sighted on the horizon, and we
finally abandoned all hope of seeing him, or of being able to reach
Uganda by water. We prepared therefore to march overland by way of Mweré
through King Rwoma’s country. We made no secret of it. Kaduma was
informed, and he communicated it to every one, and it soon came to
Rwoma’s ears.
But King Rwoma, being an ally of Mirambo, entertained a strong objection
to Wangwana, and he had exaggerated ideas of the appearance of the white
men who were at Kagehyi. Some silly child of nature had told him there
was a white man at Kagehyi with “long red hair, and great red eyes”—it
was probably Frank, though a libellous caricature of him certainly—and
the report induced Rwoma to send an embassy to Kagehyi. He said, “Rwoma
sends salaams to the white man. He does not want the white man’s cloth,
beads, or wire, and the white man must not pass through his country;
Rwoma does not want to see him or any other white man with long red hair
down to his shoulders, white face, and big red eyes; Rwoma is not afraid
of him, but if the white man comes near his country, Rwoma and Mirambo
will fight him.” To this bold but frank challenge the Wasukuma added
other reasons to prove that the overland route was impassable. The road
between Muanza and Mweré was closed by factious tribes. Rwoma was an
ally of Mirambo; Kijaju, his neighbour, was an ally of the predatory
Watuta; the chief of Nchoza, hard by him, was at war with the Watuta;
Antari, king of Ihangiro and Bumbireh, would naturally resent our
approach; Mankorongo, successor of Swarora of Usui, could only be
appeased with such tribute as would be absolutely ruinous. If I
proceeded south to Unyanyembé the Wangwana could never be held together,
and the Expedition would dissolve like snow.
By water, what was the outlook? Magassa and his fleet were not to be
heard of. He had probably returned from Musira Island, afraid to risk
his canoes in the great waste of waters between Musira Island and Alice
Island, for Waganda canoes made of plank and sewn together with fibre of
cane sometimes founder in bad weather, and the lake in the rainy season
is dangerous to such. The Wasukuma possessed no canoes, and I but one
boat capable of carrying fifteen men in rough weather. Yet my duty urged
me to proceed to Uganda. Lake Albert must be visited, for I had given my
word of honour that I would attempt it. Yet the land route was
impassable, and to all appearance so also was the lake route!
While explaining my difficulties to Sungoro, he informed me, after
responding to various other questions, that Lukongeh, king of Ukerewé,
possessed numerous canoes, but he doubted if he would lend them to me.
“However,” said he, “he is an agreeable man, and a good friend if he
takes a fancy to one.” I thought of Lukongeh, but another attack of
fever cut short my deliberations. My system was much injured by exposure
and privations, and in my delirium I fancied myself pleading with the
king, and throughout each day’s sick vagaries, “Lukongeh, Lukongeh,”
nothing but Lukongeh, flitted through my brain.
_May 15._—On the 15th of May I was convalescent, and arranged that
Prince Kaduma, Sungoro’s carpenter, and Frank Pocock should proceed
together to Lukongeh, bearing ten fine cloths, ten fundo of beads, and
five fathom of brass wire, to open negotiations either for the sale or
hire of canoes.
_May 28._—On the 28th, Frank and his party returned with fifty canoes
and their crews, under the command of two chiefs and the “premier” of
Ukerewé. I gripped Frank’s hand with ardour, but was dismayed when I was
told that these canoes were to convey the Expedition to Ukerewé! This
was by no means a desirable thing, for its progress might be delayed for
months by caprice, or by any future ill will arising from a too intimate
acquaintance between the Wangwana and the natives. I refused, and told
the chiefs they could accompany me back to Ukerewé, as I would see
Lukongeh myself.
_May 29._—Accordingly, on the 29th, after providing myself with presents
such as might win any African’s goodwill—fine rugs, blankets, crimson
cloth, and striped cloths of Kutch and Muscat, besides beads of a rare
quality, and other things too numerous to mention, equal to about 800
dollars’ worth—I started for Msossi, Lukongeh’s capital on the north
side of Ukerewé.
_May 30._—We halted a few hours at Wezi, and its curious granite rocks
were photographed by me, and in the afternoon continued our journey,
arriving at Kisorya at 4 P.M., where we camped. The next morning, about
9 A.M., we passed through Rugedzi Channel, which connects Speke Gulf
with Majita Bay. It was 6 feet wide in some places, and if left
undisturbed there was every indication from the grasses and water-plants
which grew in it that it would soon be choked, but by vigorous punting
with poles we succeeded in getting through. Some of the Wakerewé say
that Majita mountain is separated from the mainland by a similar
channel, at which I should not be surprised. We reached Msossi, and
received a hut to house ourselves in, an ox for meat, bananas for
vegetables, and milk for drink.
THE STRANGE GRANITE ROCKS OF WEZI ISLAND, MIDWAY BETWEEN USUKUMA AND
UKEREWÉ.
(_From a photograph by the Author._)
[This island is reported to be that on which Lieutenant Smith and Mr.
O’Neill were lately killed by the Wakerewé.]
]
_May 31._—At 9 A.M. of the 31st we advanced upon the aulic council
of Ukerewé, which, seated on some rising rocks on a plain, was quite
picturesque, with the gay figure of Lukongeh in the centre, round
which the lesser lights revolved. The king, a handsome, open-faced,
light-coloured young man of twenty-six or twenty-eight years old,
merely gazed his fill; and his chiefs Msiwa, Mosota, Mgeyeya, and
Wakoreh, followed his example, as well as the lesser chiefs, men, boys,
and women.
From his questions I perceived that Lukongeh would be quite as much
influenced by conversations about Europe as Mtesa of Uganda, and I soon
saw in him as eligible a convert to Christianity, though the future was
too fraught with anxiety for me to attempt it. No business could be
commenced on this day. We were to eat and rest, and the next, if the
king felt in good health, we might begin the negotiations.
On the second day Lukongeh was fortunately in excellent health and
spirits, and I felt so also, and with the greatest possible suavity I
proposed that he should either sell or lend me thirty canoes. All his
objections were met and overruled by the exhibition of my presents. But
when he saw me thus publicly expose the gorgeous cloths in broad
daylight, he trembled, and bade me cover them up quickly, saying that he
would visit me in my hut at night, and that I might rest assured he
would do his best for me. On the evening of the 4th of June, he stole
into my hut at night, in company with his faithful premier, and four
principal chiefs, and here I presented him with two fine rugs, one
Scotch plaid, two red blankets, ornaments of copper, thirty fine cloths,
fifty fundo of beads, and two coils of brass wire, besides various other
things, such as dishes, plates, tin pots, &c. His chiefs received five
cloths each and five fundo (a fundo consists of ten necklaces) of beads,
and two fathoms each of brass wire. For these munificent presents, I
should obtain my answer shortly; but in the meantime I must enjoy
myself. “Feed and get fat,” said Lukongeh, as he withdrew, happy with
his wealth.
The Wakerewé, following the example of their king, treated us with
consideration. We had to undergo a narrow inspection, and a keen
analysis of physiognomy, that they might compare us with the Arab
Sungoro; but we had long become accustomed to this, and therefore bore
it with unconcern.
There are representatives of many tribes in Ukerewé—such as Wataturu,
Wa-hya, Wattambara, Wasumbwa, Waruri, Wakwya and Wazinja.
The elders, to whom are entrusted the traditions of the country,
furnished me with a list of the following kings:—
1. Ruhinda I.
2. Kasessa.
3. Kytawa.
4. Kahana I.
5. Gurta I.
6. Nagu.
7. Mehigo I.
8. Mehigo II.
9. Kahana II.
10. Gurta II.
11. Ruhinda II.
12. Kahana III.
13. Iwanda.
14. Machunda.
15. Lukongeh, the present king.
The founder of Ukerewé, Ruhinda I., is the king whose memory is most
revered. He brought his people in canoes from Usongora and Ihangiro,
which was known in old times by the name of U-wya. He it was who
introduced the plantain and banana plants into Ukerewé. The aborigines,
whom he conquered, were called Wa-kwya—another name for the inhabitants
of Majita Mount. A small remnant of the tribe still live on the south
coast of Ukerewé, opposite Kagehyi.
The royal sepulchre is at Kitari. The hill on which it is situated is
seen in the photograph of the boat at the landing-place of Msossi, and
an eminent chief of Ukerewé has the charge of it to protect it
inviolate. The kings are all buried in a sitting posture.
Lukongeh’s dominions east of Rugedzi Channel were acquired by the
forcible dispossession of Wataturu shepherds, after a fierce battle,
which lasted five days, during which many of the Wakerewé were slain by
the poisoned arrows, of the shepherds. Though they live harmoniously
together now, there is as much difference between the Wakerewé and the
Wataturu as exists between a Nubian and a Syrian Arab. The Wataturu are
light-coloured, straight, thin-nosed and thin-lipped, while the Wakerewé
are a mixture of the Ethiopic and negro type.
The king is supposed to be endowed with supernatural power, and Lukongeh
seizes every opportunity to heighten this belief. He is believed to be
enabled to create a drought at pleasure, and to cause the land to be
drenched with rain. It is fortunate that, since his accession to power,
rain has been regular and copious in its season. The king has not been
slow to point out this immense advantage which Ukerewé has gained since
he succeeded his father; he is therefore beloved and feared.
[Illustration:
AT THE LANDING-PLACE OF MSOSSI:
VIEW OF KITARI HILL TO THE LEFT: MAJITA MOUNTAIN TO THE RIGHT.
(_From a photograph by the Author._)
]
Aware of the value of a reputation as rain-maker, he was ambitious to
add to it that of “great medicine man,” and besought me earnestly to
impart to him some of the grand secrets of Europe—such as how to
transform men into lions and leopards, to cause the rains to fall or
cease, the winds to blow, to give fruitfulness to women and virility to
men. Demands of this character are commonly made by African chiefs. When
I stated my inability to comply with his requests, he whispered to his
chiefs:—
“He will not give me what I ask, because he is afraid he will not get
the canoes; but you will see when my men return from Uganda, he will
give me all I ask.”
The custom of greeting the king is a most curious one, differing from
any I have observed elsewhere. His people, after advancing close to him,
clap their hands and kneel to him. If the king is pleased, he reveals
his pleasure by blowing and spitting into their hands, with which they
affect to anoint their faces and eyes. They seem to believe that the
king’s saliva is a collyrium for the eyes.
To each other the Wakerewé kneel, clap hands, and cry, “Waché! waché!”
“Waché sug!” “Mohoro!” “Eg sura?” which, translated, signifies,
“Morning! morning!” “Good-morning!” “A good day!” “Are you well?”
The stories current in this country about the witchcraft practised by
the people of Ukara Island proe that those islanders have been at pains
to spread abroad a good repute for themselves, that they are cunning,
and, aware that superstition is a weakness of human nature, have sought
to thrive upon it. Their power—according to the Wakerewé—over the
amphibiæ is wonderful. One Khamis, son of Hamadi, the carpenter of
Sungoro, having been a long time constructing a dhow, or sailing vessel,
for his employer, shared most thoroughly in these delusions.
Khamis averred, with an oath, that there was a crocodile who lived in
the house of the chief of Ukara, which fed from his hands, and was as
docile and obedient to his master as a dog, and as intelligent as a man.
Lukongeh had once a pretty woman in his harem, who was coveted by the
Ukara chief, but the latter could devise no means to possess her for a
long time until he thought of his crocodile. He instantly communicated
his desire to the reptile, and bade him lie in wait in the rushes near
Msossi until the woman should approach the lake to bathe, as was her
custom daily, and then seize and convey her without injury across the
eight-mile channel to Ukara. The next day, at noon, the woman was in the
Ukara chief’s house.
When I expressed a doubt about the veracity of the marvellous tale,
Khamis said, indignantly, “What, you doubt me? Ask Lukongeh, and he will
confirm what I have told you.”
He then added, “Machunda, Lukongeh’s father, owned a crocodile that
stole an Arab’s wife, and carried her across the country to the king’s
house!” To Khamis, and the Wangwana who listened to him, this last was
conclusive evidence that the crocodiles of Ukara were most astonishing
creatures.
[Illustration]
1 Storage for grain, Ukerewé. 5 Woman’s breasts, Ukerewé.
2 House, Ukerewé. 6 A warrior of Ukerewé.
3 Stool, Ukerewé. 7 Women with coils of brasswork,
Ukerewé.
4 Canoe, Ukerewé. 8 Fish-nets, Ukerewé.
The Wakerewé also believe that, if a hawk seizes a fish belonging to the
Wakara, it is sure to die in the very act!
Kaduma Kagehyi, according to Khamis, possessed a hippopotamus which came
to him each morning, for a long period, to be milked!
It requires twelve goats and three hoes to purchase a wife in Ukerewé
from her parents. Sungoro, the Arab, was obliged to pay Lukongeh 350
lbs. of assorted beads and 300 yards of good cloth before he succeeded
in obtaining one of his young sisters in marriage. If the lover is so
poor that he has neither goats nor hoes, he supplies such articles as
spears, or bows and arrows, but he cannot obtain a wife until he
furnishes a sufficient dowry to please her parents. If the parents or
older relatives are grasping, and impose hard conditions, the state of
the lover is hard indeed, as frequently after marriage demands are made
for cattle, sheep, goats, &c., a refusal of which renders the marriage
void until children have been born, when all connection with her blood
relatives ceases.
Thieves, adulterers, and murderers are put to death by decapitation.
They may escape death, however, by becoming the slaves of the party they
have wronged.
Coils of brass wire are much coveted by the Wakerewé, for the adornment
of their wives, who wear it in such numerous circlets round their necks
as to give them at a distance an appearance of wearing ruffs. Wristlets
of copper and brass and iron, and anklets of the same metal, besides
armlets of ivory, are the favourite decorations of the males.
Families in mourning are distinguished by bands of plaintain leaf round
their heads, and by a sable pigment of a mixture of pulverized charcoal
and butter. The matrons who have fallen into the sere of life are
peculiar for their unnatural length of breasts, which, depending like
pouches down to the navel, are bound to their bodies by cords. The
dresses of men and women consist of half dressed ox-hides, goat-skins,
or a cincture of banana leaves, or kirtles of a coarsely made grass
cloth.
_June 6._—On the 6th of June, Lukongeh, having issued instructions to
his chiefs how to assist me, called on me at night, accompanied by his
premier, to impart his decisions and plans.
Said he, “My people are very timid in strange lands. They are no
travellers like the Wangwana. I am obliged therefore to act in the dark
with them, otherwise I could not help you. I am going to give you
twenty-three canoes and their paddles. They are not worth much, and if
they give you trouble, you must not blame me. I am telling my people you
are coming back to Ukerewé. Don’t deny it, and don’t talk about it, or
they will be sure to run away back here. If you are clever, they will
follow you to Usukuma. Once there, take the canoes and paddles, because
I give them to you; and here are my young nephew and cousin, who will
follow you to Uganda, and make friends with the Wazinja, as far as
Ihangiro, for you. When you reach Uganda, I wish you to make Mtesa and
myself brothers, and we will exchange gifts. You must also remember to
send my young men back from Uganda. Good-bye. I have said all.”
I was also enjoined to send to Lukongeh by his young nephew and cousin
two suits of crimson and blue flannels, medicine for rheumatism and
headache, one revolver and ammunition, one bale of cloth, beads of
various kinds to the amount of 50 lbs., two fezes, one English rug, one
Kiganda canoe, capable of carrying forty men, two tusks of ivory, Usoga
goat-skins, otter furs, and iron and brass wire—all of which of course I
promised most faithfully to send.
_June 7._—Lukongeh and his chiefs were out early on the morning of the
7th of June to bid me farewell. But there were only five small canoes
ready! “How is this, Lukongeh?” I asked. “Never mind, go on; and
remember what I have said to you, my brother. Lukongeh is true,” he
replied, with dignity.
“Wonderful man,” I thought, “to have a respect for truth in this
country. He is assuredly one of the first. However, we shall see.”
We punted our boat through the narrow Rugedzi Channel, and rowed to
Kisorya. Lukongeh’s premier, his nephew and cousin, who were to be our
guides, were with us.
_June 11._—From the hills of Kisorya I obtained a capital photograph of
the deep bay which leads from Speke Gulf to Rugedzi Channel, and of the
mountains of Urirwi, across the bay. From Kisorya we moved to Ugoma,
where we halted, a sore trial to our patience, until the 11th of June,
on which day, with twenty-seven canoes of Ukerewé, we rowed to Wezi
Island,[15] situate nearly midway in Speke Gulf between Ukerewé and
Kagehyi.
_June 12._—The next day, upon landing at Kagehyi, I whispered
instructions to Frank and Manwa Sera to haul up the canoes to a distance
of eighty yards on land, and with the aid of Lukongeh’s premier and the
king’s relatives induced the Wakerewé canoe-men, 216 in number, to store
their paddles in my hut.
The Wakerewé were then apprised of the strategy of their king, and told
that there were four canoes left to them to return to Ukerewé, and that,
as it would occupy four days to transport their entire party back, beads
would be given for ten days’ provisions. At this the Wakerewé were
naturally very much surprised, and the uproar became tremendous. They
seized the premier, but he audaciously shuffled the fault upon the young
relatives, so releasing him they bound Lukongeh’s relatives, and would
undoubtedly have murdered them then and there but for the precautions I
had taken. A nod to Frank and Manwa Sera, and fifty Wangwana had dashed
up to the rescue and, charging on the excited mob with the muzzles of
their guns, drove them clear out of the village of Kagehyi.
When the Wakerewé were outside, we held a palaver with them, at which it
was explained that we should wait six days at Kagehyi, during which time
they could communicate with Lukongeh, and if the king repented of his
promise, the canoes should be sent back, or that, if they pleased, they
could return and, by manning the canoes for us, would be sure of earning
each man his reward, but that the relatives of Lukongeh, being in my
camp and in my service, must not be molested, as I was bound to protect
them.
This firm decision being fully explained to them, forty-five took the
four canoes given and returned to Ukerewé, to communicate with Lukongeh.
Six additional canoes, despatched by their friends the next day,
assisted in the transport of the natives of Ukerewé back to their
country; and on the third day our camp was emptied of almost all of
them, but though we waited seven days at Kagehyi, no further
communication came from Lukongeh, and therefore the premier and his five
servants departed.
Meanwhile I had despatched messengers to all the districts around to
summon the people to a grain market, whereat all grain brought to
Kagehyi would be purchased, at the rate of eight measures (similar to
pecks) at the rate of one doti or four yards of blue, white, or coloured
cloth. By the 19th of June, 12,000 lbs. of grain, sesamum, millet, and
Indian corn, and 500 lbs. of rice had been purchased and stowed in cloth
sacks, each containing about 100 lbs.
As the canoes were so rotten, the crews of each were detailed under the
supervision of Lukanjah, the nephew, and Mikondo, the cousin of
Lukongeh, to repair them. This was done by re-sewing many of the planks
with cane-fibre and caulking them with the bruised stalk of the banana.
_June 20._—At early dawn we began the embarkation of 150 men, women, and
children, with 100 loads of cloth, beads, and wire, 88 sacks of grain,
and 30 cases of ammunition; and as I could not delegate to others the
care of the flotilla without feeling uncontrollable anxiety about it,
the _Lady Alice_, loaded with most of the ammunition, led the way at 9
A.M. to Mabibi. These islets are three miles westward of Wezi, six miles
from Ukerewé, and about nine miles from Kagehyi.
To my great satisfaction I perceived that the Wangwana would soon
acquire the art of paddling, though many were exceedingly timid on the
water. Until they gained confidence in their new duties, our plan was to
avail ourselves of the calm periods, and not to risk so many lives and
so much property in a tempestuous sea.
A strong breeze from the north-west lasted all the morning, but at noon
it moderated, and two hours afterwards, taking advantage of the calm, we
pushed off from Mabibi, and, rounding the south-west corner of the
Ukerewé peninsula, pulled for the Kunneneh islets, which we reached
without loss or accident. Again the north-west breeze blew strong, and,
as it had power over a greater expanse of water, the waves did not
subside until 2 P.M. It was tough labour rowing against the heavy swell,
and the distance to the Miandereh Islands was long. By persevering,
however, we made good progress, yet at sunset Miandereh islets were not
in sight.
Intense darkness set in. We could not see one another, though we could
hear the measured, rhythmic beat and splash of oar and paddle, but no
voices. Now and then I flashed a waxlight over the dark waste as a
beacon to the thoughtless and unwary. By this means, and by threats of
punishment to those who strayed from the line, the canoes were kept
together.
We had proceeded quietly for three hours in the darkness, when suddenly
shrill cries were heard for “the boat.” Hurrying to the spot, I managed
to distinguish, to my astonishment, round dark objects floating on the
water, which we found to be the heads of men who were swimming towards
us from a foundered canoe. We took the frightened people on board, and
picked up four bales of cloth, but a box of ammunition and 400 lbs. of
grain had sunk.
We moved forward again, but had scarcely gone half a mile when again
piercing cries from the deep gloom startled us. “The boat, oh, the
boat!” was screamed in frenzied accents.
As we steered for the spot, I lit a wax taper and set fire to the leaves
of a book I had been reading during the afternoon, to lighten up the
scene. Heads of struggling men and bales were found here likewise in the
water, and a canoe turned bottom up with a large rent in its side; and
while distributing these among the other canoes, we heard to our alarm
that five guns had sunk, but fortunately no lives were lost or other
property, except four sacks of grain.
My boat was now up to her gunwale with twenty-two men and thirty loads,
and if a breeze rose, she would, unless we lightened her of property,
inevitably sink.
Through the darkness I shouted out to the frightened men, that if any
more canoes collapsed, the crews should at once empty out the grain and
beads, but on no account abandon their boats, as they would float and
sustain them until I could return to save them.
I had scarcely finished speaking before the alarming cries were raised
again: “Master, the canoe is sinking! Quick, come here. Oh, master, we
cannot swim!”
Again I hurried up to the cries, and distinguished two men paddling
vigorously, while five were baling. I was thinking how I could possibly
assist them, when other cries broke out: “The boat! Bring the boat here!
Oh, hurry—the boat, the boat!” Then another broke out, “And we are
sinking—the water is up to our knees. Come to us, master, or we die!
Bring the boat, my master!”
It was evident that a panic was raging amongst the timid souls, that the
people were rapidly becoming utterly unnerved. In reply to their
frenzied cries, and as the only way to save us all, I shouted out
sternly: “You who would save yourselves, follow me to the islets as fast
as you can; and you who are crying out, cling to your canoes until we
return.”
We rowed hard. The moon rose also, and cheered us in half an hour with a
sight of Miandereh, for which we steered. Her brightness had also the
effect of rousing up the spirits of the Wangwana; but still the piteous
cries were heard far behind: “Master! oh, master! bring your boat—the
boat.”
“Hark to them, my boys—hark,” I sang out to my crew, and they responded
to my appeal by causing the _Lady Alice_ to fly through the water,
though the waves almost curled over her sides. “Pull, my men; break your
oars; shoot her through the water; life and death hang on your efforts.
Pull like heroes.” She hissed through the waves, as ten men, bending
with the wildest, most desperate effort, spurred her with their oars.
Miandereh islets rose larger and clearer into view. “Hurrah, my boys,
here is our island! pull and defy the black water—your brothers are
drowning!”
We reached Miandereh—shot the goods out, lightened her of the wrecked
men, and flew back again, skimming over the dark surface.
There were two brothers who had been made coxswains of canoes, who came
prominently into notice on this terrible night. Each had his special
crew, friends and people of the same tribe, and their names were Uledi
and Shumari; the former about twenty-five years old, the latter
eighteen.
As I was returning with my boat to the scene, two canoes passed me like
arrows. “Who go there?” I demanded.
“Uledi and Shumari’s canoes,” replied somebody.
“Return instantly, after unloading, to save the people.”
“It is what we intend to do, Inshallah!” answered a voice.
“Fine fellows those, I warrant them,” I thought. “Their very action and
tone reveal their brave spirits.”
Away we flew to the rescue, blowing the bugle to announce our approach.
We passed three or four canoes, racing by us to the islets. Thank
Heaven, the lake was calm, and the moon shone clear and strong, casting
a golden light upon the waters.
“You are brave fellows; pull, my sons; think of those poor men in
the lake in sinking canoes.” Responding to my prayers, the crew
almost cracked their hearts in the mighty efforts they made; their
quick-swaying figures, the deep sighs which burst from their breasts,
the careering boat, the excited helmsman, everything sympathized with
me. I seized one of the oars myself to relieve a lad, and to assist the
force which now dashed the boat over the water. She seemed instinct
with life.
We now heard the cries for aid, “Oh, the boat! Master, bring the boat!”
come once more pealing over the golden lake from the foundering canoes.
“Do you hear, men? break the oars—lift the boat over the water. We will
save them yet. It is to-night or never!”
With fresh force she bounded upward. Every fibre of our straining bodies
and the full strength of our energies were roused, and in five minutes
we ran alongside first one canoe, then a second and a third—until again
the boat was down in the water to within an inch of her gunwale. But all
the people—men, women, and children—were saved. The light material of
which the canoes were constructed had sufficed to float the loads that
were in them.
We rested until help should arrive, and presently Uledi’s and Shumari’s
canoes were seen advancing side by side, with lines of pale foam
flashing from each bow, as they were driven with the force of strong men
towards us. With loud, glad cries they stopped their furious career
alongside, and the first words they uttered were, “Are all safe?”
“Yes, all,” we replied.
“El hamd-ul’-illah!” (“Thanks be to God!”), they answered fervently.
With the aid of these two canoes we were able to return to the islets
with the thirty-two men, women, and children, and the entire property
safe. Our loss during this fearful night was five canoes, five guns, one
case of ammunition, and twelve hundred pounds of grain.
_June 21._—The next morning, leaving a third of the party and goods at
Miandereh, we departed for Singo, which we reached at 9 A.M. A few
canoes were then hastened back to Miandereh for the remainder.
It will be remembered that, while the boat was returning from Uganda and
passing by Ito, an island situated half a mile south-west of Singo, the
natives of Ito drove us away by slinging stones at us. Such a force as
we now numbered could not be received with such rudeness: at the same
time they were secure from molestation by us. I despatched therefore
Lukanjah and Mikondo, the Wakerewé guides, to the Island of Ito, to
explain to the natives who we were, and to remove all fears of reprisal.
Lukanjah was extremely successful, and brought the chief of Ito, who, as
some atonement for our previous treatment, had furnished himself with
peace-offerings in the shape of a couple of fat kids, and several
bunches of mellow plantains. The large island of Komeh also, on the next
day, sent its king to rejoice with us over numerous jars of potent beer
and many slaughtered goats. The king of Komeh sold us besides four good,
almost new, canoes of sufficient capacity to render us secure from
further anxiety.
The Wangwana, after their terrible experiences while crossing the
entrance to Speke Gulf, were awakened to the necessity of narrowly
inspecting and carefully repairing their canoes. At Kagehyi the repairs
had been extremely superficial, but the men were now fully alive to the
importance of good caulking and a thorough relacing of the planks
together, while Frank, Lukanjah, and I superintended their work.
_June 24._—Seven hours’ paddling on the 24th of June brought us to
Refuge Island, and on its south side we proceeded to establish a small
camp. The 25th was employed in constructing one large store hut for the
grain, and another for the property of the Expedition; and the huts of
the garrison were built with due regard to the strict watch of the camp.
After selecting forty-four men as garrison, and appointing Frank Pocock
captain and Manwa Sera his lieutenant, with the two guides, Lukanjah and
Mikondo, as interpreters in case of visitors, and leaving four canoes
for the garrison to communicate, if they wished, with the natives of
Itawagumba on the mainland, I began my return to Usukuma on the 26th
with the boat, seventeen canoes, and 106 men.
_July 1._—Four days afterwards we reached Kagehyi, at 3 P.M. But as the
voyage had been extremely rough, only fourteen canoes were mustered in
the cove.
When five days had passed, and we received no tidings of the three
canoes and their crews of thirteen men which were still absent, I
despatched a canoe with two Wangwana and eight Wasukuma to Lukongeh, the
king, requesting him to hunt up the laggards, who no doubt had either
deserted or had been captured by the Wakerewé.
On this day also I purchased from Kipingiri, for 40 yards of cloth, a
large canoe capable of carrying thirty men, which the Wangwana, on
account of her uncouth shape, called the “Hippopotamus.” The wood of
which she was made was sycamore, and she was so rotten at the stern that
one thrust of my foot kicked a hole in her 9 inches in diameter. Though
she was an ancient craft, and heavy with saturation, she might, I
thought, be still made serviceable for the transport of the riding
asses.
Whilst Uledi and Salaam Allah, the carpenters, and two or three chiefs,
were assisting me to repair the venerable “Hippo” in a hollow close to
the water’s edge, a man came rushing down, crying, “Quick! quick!
Master, the Wangwana are murdering one another! They are all dead men!”
Leaving one man to look after our tools, we ran up the hill, and
witnessed a most horrible scene. About thirty men armed with guns were
threatening one another in an excited manner; others brandished clubs or
knobsticks; some held spears menacingly, while several flourished
knives. A frenzy seemed to have possessed the hitherto well-behaved
people. One man was already dead with a ghastly knife-wound in his
heart, another lay prostrate with a fractured skull from a knobstick,
and the author of this deed was even then striding with sweeping
flourishes of a long club through the ranks of a turbulent crowd,
delivering sounding blows on their heads and shoulders.
Snatching a stout stick, I rapped the ruffian so vigorously over his
knuckles that he dropped his club and was secured by my assistants, and
then, calling the chiefs to my aid, we disarmed the infuriates. This
summary proceeding soon quelled the disturbance, and then, perceiving
that pombé—beer—was at the bottom of the mischief, all who were sober
were ordered to fall into line, by which we discovered that fifty-three
were quite intoxicated.
Upon examination it was found that the murderer of Membé, one of the
stoutest of our boat-bearers, was Fundi Rehani, and that he who had
fractured the other man’s skull was Rehani, the brother of Membé. Both
were immediately secured for trial before Prince Kaduma, the Arab
Sungoro, and the Wangwana chiefs. The jars of pombé were broken, and
diligent search made in every place for beer.
This bloodshed upon the soil of Usukuma had to be paid for out of my
cloth stores to mollify Prince Kaduma, and further payment was required
for the privilege of burial.
The jury which I convened to adjudge the case sentenced the murderer to
death; but, as I would not consent to this extreme measure, the sentence
was changed to two hundred lashes and the chain, until his arrival at
Zanzibar, when he might be rendered to his prince. The drunken madman
Rehani, though he had been inspired to the fury which led him to
fracture a man’s skull by the sight of his dead brother, was also
condemned by the jury, for endangering the life of a perfectly innocent
man, to fifty lashes. These sentences, faithfully executed with due
ceremony in presence of all the Wangwana, affected them greatly, and I
took advantage of this scene to call the attention of the bully Msenna,
and others who had distinguished themselves in the previous day’s
ebullition of madness, to the punishment which must assuredly follow the
commission of such dreadful acts.
_July 5._—On the 5th of July, to my great joy, the scouts sent to
Lukongeh in search of the missing canoes returned with two of them, but
of the third we received no news, until a year later—after our arrival
at Ujiji—when we heard that they had deserted and had proceeded direct
to Unyanyambé with their guns. The crews of the two canoes, now happily
restored to us, informed me that they had been driven by the gale to
seek shelter on the mainland of Ukerewé, where they were instantly
seized and conveyed to Lukongeh, when, instead of being slain, as the
natives expected the captives would be, they were kindly treated by the
king, proving to the islanders that the white man had only acted by his
orders.
_July 6._—On the 6th of July, after giving farewell presents to Prince
Kaduma and his clever, genial princess, to the Arab Sungoro, Prince
Kipingiri of Lutari, and Kurereh—though the two latter little deserved
them—as well as to many others, I embarked all the people, animals, and
effects of the Expedition, and by ten o’clock we were safely clear of
Kipingiri’s power and vicious intents, and, for the last time, of
Kagehyi.
There was not one feeling of regret in my breast at leaving this place,
where the Expedition had found a camp for over four months. Not that the
village was in any way destitute of comforts, for these it afforded, nor
that the natives were in any manner repugnant to me, for they were not;
but the objects for which we came into the land could never be attained
by unnecessary residence at any one spot. The time had simply arrived to
begin our travels again, and I was glad of it, for the bold and bad
Kipingiri was, I suspected, ever exercising an evil influence over
Kaduma.
_July 11._—On the 11th of July we arrived safely and without accident
at Refuge Island, where I found the garrison thriving admirably.
Through the influence of young Lukanjah—the cousin of the king of
Ukerewé—the natives of the mainland had been induced to exchange their
churlish disposition for one of cordial welcome, and the process of
blood-brotherhood had been formally gone through between Maawa Sera, on
my part, and Kijaju, king of Komeh, and the king of Itawagumba on the
other part.
Lukanjah, aware of the respect paid by his dusky brothers to power, had
deftly exaggerated my influence and the numbers of my force, until a
friendly alliance with one so powerful became a cherished project with
Kijaju, and caused him to seek it by a tribute of three fat oxen, six
goats, and fifty bunches of bananas, besides a store of delectable
maramba, upon which I found that the garrison had been subsisting during
my absence from Refuge Island.
I deputed Frank to repay with cloths, beads, and wire Kijaju’s
generosity, for the constant anxiety which I suffered during the
passages between Refuge Island and Kagehyi, for the safety of my people
and effects, had induced such a serious illness, that for five days I
was unable to leave my hut on the island.
_July 17._—On the sixth day, however, I left my bed and strolled over
the island on which, on that terrible day of our escape from Bumbireh,
we had found a refuge and relief in our distress, and now an asylum
for half of the Expedition for about a month. The younger portion of
the garrison knew every nook and cranny of our island home, and had
become quite attached to it. On the eastern side about fifteen fruit
trees had been discovered by them, laden with delicious berries, the
flavour of which seemed something of a mixture of custard apple and a
ripe gooseberry. The stones of this small fruit were two in number,
like small date-stones. The leaves of the tree resemble those of the
peach; its fruit are smooth-surfaced, and hang in threes; its wood
is tough and flexible. It is no doubt a species of the _Verbenaceæ_.
The garrison had failed to consume half the quantity found, so that,
when I arrived with a reinforcement of 150 men, there was a sufficient
quantity left to cause them all to remember the sweet fruit of Refuge
Island.
On this day, Kijaju, king of Komeh, visited me, to our mutual
satisfaction. He furnished me with two guides to accompany me to Uganda,
who were to be returned to Komeh along with Lukanjah and Mikondo. Their
assistance was valuable only as the means of furnishing me with the
names of localities between Refuge Island and Uzongora.
In the same manner that we had left Kagehyi, we departed from Refuge
Island, viz. by embarking the garrison, and leaving those who had stayed
at Kagehyi to rest upon Refuge Island until we should return for them.
The night was passed with a wild dance under the moonlight, at which
three kings were present, who participated with all the light-hearted
gaiety of children in the joyous sport.
Old Kijaju distinguished himself on the wild “fantastic toe” most
extraordinarily. Itawagumba, jealous of his uncle’s performance, exerted
himself with mad vigour, and the stalwart chief of Bwina bounded upward
as though performing on the flying trapeze. Young Lukanjah of Ukerewé,
and his royal relative Mikondo, with all the suppleness of acrobats,
made their début on this night with great spirit, and the hundred
warriors from the mainland sang to the dance with such force of lungs as
startled the colossal rocks of Refuge Island into echoing the wild
harmony. The Wangwana, headed by Frank and the gallant Manwa Sera,
enlarged the vast circle with 150 men and 20 women, and all voices
chimed to the song which old Kijaju sang to celebrate the day on which
the white chief made brotherhood with the king of Komeh.
Refreshments were not wanting to cheer the dancers. Great masses of beef
were roasted over glorious fires, and many jars of beer and maramba,
brought from Bwina and Komeh, invited the special attention of the
thirsty.
_July 18._—As we left Refuge Island, on the morning of the 18th of July,
the guides furnished by Kijaju, king of Komeh, propitiated the genius of
the lake with beads given to him for the occasion, and adjured it by
saying:—
“Be kind to the white M’kama, O Nianja, I charge thee! Give him a safe
and prosperous voyage across thy wide waters.”
From Kazaradzi Island, on which we rested for the night, we beheld a
most glorious sunset. The western sky, halfway up to the zenith, was all
aglow for about an hour with resplendent gold, which tinted mountain,
hill, plain, and lake with the reflection of the lustrous hue.
_July 19._—Next day we sailed for Wawizua Island; and on the 20th,
passing by the picturesque islands of Mysomeh and Rumondo—every canoe
hoisting small lug-sails, made of the loin-cloths of the crew, in order
to benefit by the strong south-easter—we steered for Nameterré Island,
where we arrived without accident.
_July 21._—On the 21st of July we arrived at the southernmost of the
dreaded Bumbireh group, Mahyiga Island, which I ascertained, after
careful survey, was not inhabited.
At a little cove on the western side we discovered relics of a large
camp, which, by the shape of the dome-like huts and bonneted doorways
had, we were assured, been constructed by Waganda. Yet what force of
Waganda could have penetrated thus far to the south?
As we were now in a dangerous neighbourhood, it behoved us to form a
proper camp, as a small party would be compelled to remain upon this
island until the remainder of the Expedition could be brought from
Refuge Island. For this purpose, every hand was employed to clear the
scrub and bush for a distance of 200 yards from the cove, and a road 12
feet wide was cut from the south side of Mahyiga Island to the north
end.
About 5 P.M. while we were still at work, two large canoes approached
cautiously from the direction of Iroba Island towards our cove. They
took great pains to ascertain the number of our canoes, and we could see
that they endeavoured to reckon up the number of men on the island
before they spoke a word. Finally they hailed us, and Lukanjah, of
Ukerewé, and Kijaju’s man were requested to reply to them.
Our conversation, which was of great interest to us, as we burned to
know what to expect from Bumbireh, was as follows:—
“Is this the white chief who was at Bumbireh?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, he was not lost on the Nianja then?”
“No, he lives, and has returned.”
“Oh. The white chief must not be angry with Iroba. We did not trouble
him, therefore he has no quarrel with us. The people of Bumbireh are
bad. What has the white chief come for?”
“He is going to Uganda.”
“How can he go to Uganda? Does he not know that Bumbireh is in the way,
and Ihangiro’s eyes will be upon him? Will he fly?”
“No; he will proceed by water in his canoes. Tell Bumbireh the white
chief is not afraid; his young men are many in number. If the men of
Bumbireh wish to make friends, let Shekka send the oars he stole, and
the white chief will be glad.”
“Magassa,” replied they, “who camped on that island you are on, received
the oars from Shekka, and he took them away to Uganda, believing you
were lost in the Nianja.”
“The white chief was not lost; he is here. If it is true that the oars
are gone to Uganda, let Shekka make friends with the white chief, and
send him two or three men to go with him to Makongo, in Uzongora, or to
Uganda, as Lukongeh of Ukerewé and Kijaju of Komeh have done, and there
will be no more words between them.”
“Shekka is very strong, and the men of Bumbireh are bold. Antari of
Ihanghiro, the great king, is stronger, and Shekka is his son. All this
Nianja about here is his water, and they will not let you pass. What
will the white chief do?”
“Tell Shekka and Antari, his father, that the white chief will remain
here for many days. He will be glad to hear good words from them. When
he is ready to go away, he will let them know. If the king of Iroba is
the white chief’s friend, let him send food here to sell.”
After promising to perform all that we required, and to bring food the
next day, the two canoes paddled away, two or three of their crews
laughing ostentatiously.
_July 23._—On the morning of the 23rd, about 10 A.M., another canoe,
containing fifteen men, approached us from Iroba, in a bold, defiant
manner. We asked their crew if they brought food for sale. They replied,
“No; but you will get food in plenty by-and-by.” After taking a
searching look at our camp, they turned away, giving expression to their
contempt by a method which obtains all round the Uvuma, Uganda,
Uzongora, and Ukerewé coasts, viz. by throwing up water behind them in
the air with their paddles, which is as well understood as the British
youth’s gesture of placing a thumb to his nose.
Lukanjah smiled when he saw this, and when requested to give me his
thoughts, he said significantly, “Those people mean something.”
_July 24._—On the morning of the 24th, long before dawn, in order that
the Iroba or Bumbireh people might not espy their departure, I
despatched sixteen of the largest canoes under Manwa Sera, to return to
Refuge Island for the remainder of the Expedition, after many
injunctions to be cautious, and not to commit any folly.
Our camp was now in perfect condition, and presented as clean and
orderly an appearance as two days’ labour could render it. Watch-huts
were also erected upon the highest part of the island, and five men
under a chief were detached for the duty of observation. The garrison
left with me upon the island consisted of forty-five men and the four
guides from my friends Lukongeh and the Kijaju.
On this day also canoes came from Iroba, to the crews of which, as they
rested in the water, we exhibited beads and cloth, copper bracelets and
bright brass wire. In return for our professions of friendliness and our
proffers of gifts, they spurned the water towards us, and replied with
mockery.
_July 25._—On the 25th, when the Iroba natives came, I adopted, after
due forethought, a sterner tone, perceiving that amiability was liable
to contempt and misconstruction. I told them that the king of Iroba must
prove his friendship by sending food for sale by noon of the next day;
and that as I was assured he was in communication with the king of
Bumbireh, his neighbour, I should expect either the return of the oars
or two or three men as sureties and pledges of peace. I knew the
mainland was hostile, and since I was compelled to proceed to Uganda, I
resolved to be assured, before venturing the lives of the women and
children in rotten and crowded canoes, that I should be permitted to
proceed in peace, and not be attacked midway between Bumbireh and the
mainland.
The natives, cowed a little by the tone of voice, promised that there
should be no delay in sending provisions, bananas, milk, honey,
chickens, even oxen, for the white M’kama.
_July 26._—On the morning of the 26th, the men at the observation-post
reported that they saw a great many canoes proceeding from the mainland
towards the great island of Bumbireh. I ascended the road to the summit,
and with my glass I counted eighteen canoes, heavily laden with men, and
watched them till they had passed round Iroba’s westernmost point
towards Bumbireh. It was evident that mischief was brewing, but how or
in what shape I could not tell. It was probable that they would attack
the island by night, knowing we were not very strong in numbers at the
time. It was a very possible feat, for the islanders, as we had
experienced, were not dull-witted, and were resolute and brave.
Meantime, what should I do in such a case?
I waited until 3 P.M. for the king of Iroba. He did not come. Instant
action on my part was therefore imperative.
I manned my boat and four of the canoes with thirty-five men, leaving
only Safeni with fourteen men in charge of the camp and island, and
proceeded to Iroba to make a reconnaissance. As we came up, I observed a
flutter of excitement on the shore. I steered straight for the beach
opposite a village, and landed. Twenty-five of the men were deployed as
skirmishers along the shore, to give due effect to what I purposed.
Lukanjah of Ukerewé was told to request the king of Iroba and elders to
approach, or we should begin fighting.
They came to us, about fifteen in number. “Tell him, Lukanjah,” I said,
“that Iroba has behaved badly by sending his young men to laugh at us.
Since he has lied so many times to me, he himself and two of his chiefs
must depart with me to my camp. He will not be hurt, but he must stay
with me until Shekka of Bumbireh is in my hands, or peace is made as I
suggested.”
There was no violence used, and the king of Iroba and two chiefs quietly
walked into the boat. When they were seated, the king was requested to
give instructions to his young men how to capture Shekka of Bumbireh and
two Bumbireh chiefs; and a solemn promise was given that on their
appearance the king of Iroba and his friends would be released. The
natives of Iroba, who were collected by this time on the beach, entered
into the project with animation. They declared that next day Shekka
should be in my hands.
_July 27._—On the morning of the 27th, a canoe from Iroba came with
provisions for the king and chiefs, and to report their failure at
Bumbireh. One of the young men, said to be the king’s son, offered to
remain in his father’s place, while he himself should try to obtain
possession of Shekka’s person. This touching confidence so affected me
that, after inducing the king of Iroba to go through the process of
blood-brotherhood with one of the Wangwana, he was released.
At 5 P.M., faithful to his promise that he would perform what I wished,
the king of Iroba brought the treacherous king of Bumbireh with two of
his chiefs, whose appearance, after he had landed at Mahyiga and been
recognised, was hailed with a loud shout by the Wangwana. He was about
to be maltreated, and had I not been present at the time, there is no
doubt that he would have been murdered by the enraged boat’s crew. But
they calmed down when they were told that his life and services were
necessary to us, and that good treatment might secure his friendship and
peace with Bumbireh.
My purpose in possessing myself of the person of the king of Bumbireh
and his two chiefs may easily be divined. It must have been perceived
that weakness and irresolution—or, in other words, over-gentleness and
want of firmness—had proved harmful on several previous occasions. Thus,
the hesitation to act immediately after the commission of murder by the
Wanyaturu led them to imagine that it was fear which withheld us; the
forbearance exhibited at Ngevi Island only brought upon us more
annoyance; our mildness at Mombiti in Uvuma suggested the attack upon us
by stoning; our long-suffering temper at the straits between Uvuma and
Ugeyeya induced the Wavuma to proceed to piracy and violence; our
patient bearing at Bumbireh led the natives to think we might be
murdered like lambs; our placability merited and received the contempt
of the natives of Iroba; and a hundred times afterwards did I see that
the savage only respects force, power, boldness, and decision; and that
he is totally ignorant of the principles which govern the conduct of
Christian man to man. Forbearance is to him cowardice: mildness,
patience, and an equable temper are, in his undeveloped and unreasoning
mind, only evidences of effeminacy. But the murderous Wanyaturu, when we
finally turned out of our camp, learned, when it was too late, that our
womanly gentleness covered power; the audacious Wakamba at Ngevi Island
were only brought to their senses when they heard the startling reports
of the revolver; the intention of the daring Wavuma to murder was only
checked by quick, and energetic action; the treacherous rock-slingers of
Mombiti only desisted when fired upon; the ferocious Wa-Bumbireh only
respected us after our successful escape; the cunning king of Iroba only
became really friendly when we quietly showed our power, and his rapidly
growing insolence was only cowed by the exhibition of sternness.
But the exercise of power without magnanimity is simply brutality, and
has only a transient effect. If, therefore, I could only show the king
of Bumbireh and his people that the first white man they had seen was
extremely gentle in his manner until aroused, but, though strong and
powerful when angered, was magnanimous afterwards, I should, I felt,
leave a lasting good effect upon their minds. Though Shekka’s capture
was necessary, in order to ensure the passage of the Expedition between
Bumbireh and Ihangiro in peace and safety, his good treatment and
after-release were none the less necessary also—provided that nothing
serious occurred in the meantime to prevent the exhibition of clemency
towards him.[16]
Perceiving himself to be in the power of those whom he had outraged with
a wanton ferocity, and whom he had compelled to risk the terrors of the
stormy sea without the means of subsistence, or means to seek shelter
from the gales and tempests which prevail during the rainy season,
Shekka’s behaviour became as abject as it had been ferocious when our
positions were reversed. But he was informed in mild tones that we
sought not his life, but our own safety; that he was captured to secure
ourselves from violence by the possession of his person; that, while he
was a prisoner with us, there would be no fear that Antari of Ihangiro
and the people of Bumbireh would attack us by night, as they must know
that we possessed the means of retaliation through him.
He was pleased to be communicative on this assurance, and informed us
that Antari was collecting a vast force on Bumbireh, by day and night,
for the purpose of attacking us on the island of Mahyiga. He imparted to
us also the narrative of how Antari’s father, in conjunction with Kytawa
in the days of old, had successfully defied for a long period the full
power of the great Suna of Uganda, and he was curious to know how a
small body of men like ourselves could hope to escape from Antari[17]—or
“the Lion”—of Ihangiro.
Shekka was advised that, as we knew how to defend ourselves when
attacked, he had better send word to Bumbireh and to Antari that we did
not seek trouble, but were desirous of establishing peaceful relations
between the Wangwana and the natives. Three of the ordinary natives of
Bumbireh, who had been brought with Shekka and his two chiefs, were
therefore permitted to depart with the king of Iroba and his friends.
_July 28._—At 9 A.M. the king of Iroba appeared again, this time with
gifts of milk, honey, bananas, and a fat kid, which kindness we
liberally reciprocated, not without much politic ostentation for the
advantage of Shekka and the natives.
At noon he reappeared with three large canoes, containing twenty men
each, from Ihangiro, under the command of Antari’s chief elder. They
were permitted to land, though they were numerically superior to the
garrison on the island. But before I had given them permission to that
effect, Frank was requested to hold thirty men under arms to prevent
treachery and surprise.
Our greeting was friendly, though there was a certain proud reserve in
their manner.
“What says the king Antari?” I asked through Lukanjah.
“Antari asks, ‘Why have you come to his waters and camped on his
island?’”
“We have come because we must pass through to Uganda, and have rested on
Mahyiga to wait for our people. As I have not sufficient canoes to carry
my people and property in one passage, I must leave some here, while I
proceed to Uganda with the first half of the party. I wish to be assured
by Antari that in my passage by Bumbireh we shall not be attacked, nor
the party which must be left in my absence on this island be molested.
What say you?”
“Antari says he is a great and strong king. All the mainland which you
see from Rumondo to Kytawa’s is his, so are all these islands and
waters. He has never seen strangers before travelling by sea; they
always went by land. He says, ‘You must go back.’”
“We cannot go back, tell him,” I replied. “This water belongs to every
stranger, as much as the wind. The island may be his, but no one dwells
on Mahyiga, and we will not injure the rocks.”
“Antari says he will make peace only if you go back. He sends these
three bunches of bananas to you, and this woman and child.”
“We do not deal in slaves, and three bunches of bananas are of no use to
us. We want permission to pass quietly and peacefully through to Uganda,
and if Antari will send many bananas to us, we will buy them, as we have
many mouths with us.”
“Then Antari says he will make war on you, and kill you all.”
“Ah, does he say those words?”
“Yes, Antari says those words.”
I whispered to Frank to bring Shekka, who was immediately brought to
their presence. When they saw him, they all rose to a man with
threatening actions. We all rose also, in a prepared attitude, which
convinced them that violence was useless. I said to the elders—
“Sit down, and carry my words to Antari. Open your ears wide, and
understand. Antari is Mtesa’s slave; I am Mtesa’s friend. Antari’s
people rob and try to murder Mtesa’s friend, but he escapes, and has now
come back on his way to Mtesa. Again, Antari and his people are busy
preparing war against Mtesa’s—Antari’s master’s—friend. He sends many
canoes and hundreds of men to Bumbireh. He also sends three canoes to
tell me that he is about to fight me, and perhaps—you know best—to
rescue Shekka, who is my means for securing my safety. Tell Antari that
the white man is not a woman, and that lying words will not be swallowed
by him. He means to go to Uganda, whether Antari will let him or not. If
Antari fights, tell him to remember how the white man escaped from
Bumbireh. The white man wants peace, but he is not afraid of Antari. Now
go, and carry every word to Antari, and to-morrow, by noon, I must have
his answer, or I shall carry Shekka and his two chiefs to Uganda, and
deliver them up to Mtesa.”
Without giving them time to consider further, we urged them towards
their canoes, not violently, but firmly. When the principal elder had
recovered his senses, which he did not until he felt himself safe in his
canoe, it seemed to dawn on his mind that I was purposely avoiding
violence, and he said—
“Let the white man rest in peace. You have Antari’s son, Shekka, in your
hands. Antari will not fight you. I will speak to him truly, and when
the sun is high I shall return with words of peace.”
“It is well. Tell Antari his son shall not be hurt, and will be
delivered over to his people as soon as we shall have passed Bumbireh
safely.”
Those were days which required caution, for the first false or weak step
would have ensured the destruction of the Expedition, the members of
which I was bound by every principle of honour to protect and defend to
the best of my ability. They had pledged themselves to me only upon the
condition that I should secure their safety, and they looked to me to
watch and guard their lives with paternal care. In my opinion,
considering all the circumstances, I could not have better avoided
trouble than—while the savages were actively preparing and offensively
boasting—by acting as I did.
About 4 P.M. a small fleet of six beautiful canoes, painted a brown
colour, were seen approaching us, having travelled mid-channel between
Bumbireh and Ihangiro. We soon made them out to be Waganda, and when the
chief, who was received with loud and warm greetings, had landed, he
gave his name as Sabadu.
He soon informed us that he was on a double errand, one of which was to
proceed to Kagehyi in Usukuma to convey the Arab Sungoro to Uganda, and
the other was to hunt up news of myself. He said also that I had been
reported by the long-lost Magassa, on his return to Uganda, to have been
either murdered by the savages of Bumbireh or to have foundered in the
lake. He had returned with the oars and drum to Mtesa, who was much
shocked at the sight of them, for he believed that, as the oars were our
“feet,” we were murdered. But as nothing else was found, such as traces
or parts of the boat, Mtesa was in doubt; he had therefore enjoined
Sabadu to make strict inquiries at all points about me, and had
despatched Magassa with a strong force by land to Uzongora and Ihangiro,
and a Mtongoleh, called M’kwanga, with a fleet of eight canoes, to
prosecute a more rigid search by water along all the coasts. Sabadu said
also that, while he was at Kytawa’s with M’kwanga, on the mainland, he
had heard of our danger, and had hurried up to assist us, and that
M’kwanga would appear on the morrow with eight canoes, manned by
Waganda, and five canoes manned by Kytawa’s people under two chiefs,
who, by their influence with Antari, might negotiate a successful peace.
Sabadu, upon delivering his news, was, as may well be imagined, heartily
welcomed, and was readily induced, upon my taking the responsibility, to
remain with me, to assist in the transport of the Expedition to Uganda,
for which his canoes, with those of M’kwanga and Kytawa, would prove
amply sufficient. He was also informed in his turn of the state of
affairs at Bumbireh and Ihangiro, at which he expressed great
indignation; but both he and Bugomba—a youth of sixteen, the brother of
the Katekiro, or Premier, of Uganda—were confident that, when they
should proceed to Bumbireh to treat with the natives through the
assistance of Kytawa’s chiefs, they would be able to persuade them to
abandon their hostile attitude. My experience of the people of Bumbireh,
however, would not permit me to entertain this feeling of assurance.
_July 29._—About 11 A.M. M’kwanga’s search expedition, consisting
of eight large canoes, accompanied by five of a smaller size, under
two chiefs of Kytawa, arrived at Mahyiga Island, containing about 250
Waganda and 50 Wazongora. Including the crews of Sabadu’s canoes, the
garrison of Mahyiga, and the natives of Komeh and Ukerewé, I had now a
force of 470 men. There was no fear of the issue of an attack on the
island now, but a fear of famine remained.
The king of Iroba was appealed to, and for an adequate remuneration he
promised to supply the Waganda with bananas; while we possessed
sufficient grain upon which the Wangwana might subsist for a few days
longer. The king of Iroba again confirmed the information that Antari
was collecting a large force of canoes, and about sunset a single canoe,
powerfully manned, dashed up opposite our camp, and one man stood up
with spear and shield, and delivered a stout defiance, after which the
canoe as hastily departed for Bumbireh, without paying any attention to
Kytawa’s chiefs.
It was apparent that our departure for Uganda would be hotly contested,
but of the result there could be but one opinion. What kind of canoes
Antari possessed I knew by the specimens which Kytawa, who was neighbour
to him, sent to us at Mahyiga. Their number would be probably a hundred,
which, with a crew of ten men in each, would amount to a thousand.
Allowing six bowmen in each canoe, this would make the fighting force
about 600 strong, against which I could offer 70 guns and about 350
effective spearmen of Uganda.
_August 2._—However, it was my duty to persist in avoiding the bloody
conflict, as it would assuredly be by water, and employ all my efforts
towards bringing Antari and the natives of Bumbireh to a sense of the
inutility of hostile demonstrations. Messages of a peaceful nature
accordingly passed between us. Antari’s elders visited us once more, on
the 2nd of August, this time with an assurance that we should not be
molested, as a proof of which they said that Antari had given orders to
the people of Bumbireh to sell us provisions upon the condition that we
should deliver Shekka, Antari’s son, and two other chiefs to Kytawa, the
day we should arrive on the mainland.
This news was received with shouts of applause by all, and no one was
more sincerely glad that the trouble was over than myself, though there
was something in the manner of the delivery, in the sly exchange of
looks between Antari’s elders and the prisoners, that I did not like. It
may have been that a slight suspicion still lurked in my mind, but I did
not permit any sign of doubt to escape me, but treated the elders
affably and courteously.
Sabadu—who was of a sanguine disposition—and young Bugomba were for
testing the truth of this manifestation of friendship at once, but I
restrained them for this day, as we possessed sufficient food for the
time being. The Waganda also were eager to remind me that they were a
people decidedly averse to scarcity, and they obtained my promise that
next morning they should have cloths and beads wherewith to purchase
food.
_August 3._—Accordingly the next day Sabadu was despatched with beads,
cowries, and cloths to Kajurri, from the cove of which we had made our
escape in April. They were absent about six hours, during which time I
was very anxious, as the event would decide our future.
“What is the news, Sabadu?” I asked eagerly as he stepped on the shore
near our camp with gloomy looks. “Anything wrong?”
“Ah,” he sighed; “the people of Bumbireh are bad, wicked people. We
went on shore at Kajurri, saw some twenty people there, and Kytawa’s
chief talked with them. They said we might go and cut as many bananas
as we wanted, and they would talk afterwards about the price we should
have to pay. The Waganda left their spears, and, taking only their
_mundu_—bill-hooks—proceeded to cut the fruit while I remained in the
canoe. Suddenly I heard a shout and a rustling in the banana grove, and
the Waganda came running back, and pushing the canoes into the water,
plunged in, and got on board. Kytawa’s chief had his left arm chopped
clean off, and then they cut him on the head, which killed him. Eight
of the Waganda[18] have been badly hurt. They will be carried on shore
presently, and you shall see them. Bumbireh! ah, ah! Bumbireh is bad!”
he said emphatically.
The wounded men were brought on shore with ghastly wounds from spears,
and one or two from arrows, at the sight of which a grand rush was made
upon the captives by two or three hundred excited Waganda and Wazongora,
but with the aid of the Wangwana and Frank we saved them.
“Gently, gently, friends,” we cried; “these men are not they who are
guilty of this deed. Do not ill-use them; they are innocent.”
M’kwanga, the chief of the search expedition of Waganda, was furious. He
seized his shield and three spears, and called his men together, telling
them to arm, as he would lead them through and through Bumbireh, and
then would proceed to Antari and slay him in his house, would cut down
every banana, burn down every hut, and scorch Ihangiro to a cinder, &c.
But M’kwanga was persuaded to be patient, and not foolishly throw more
lives away. We should, I told him, consult together, and if I found,
after consideration, that my duty was to avenge this deed, I should do
it.
Said he: “If you do not assist me to punish this treachery, you need
never expect to see Mtesa’s face or Uganda again. The Waganda came to do
you service; they came to seek you while Mtesa believed you were lost.
The Waganda, with myself and Sabadu, promised to stand by you when we
heard you were in danger. The Waganda left your camp with your consent
to go and get food for you as well as for us. Kytawa’s chief is dead,
and here are eight wounded men. What will you do?”
“Only what I think is right, and after proper consideration. If I do not
assist you, it will not prevent you from going to fight them to-morrow.”
“But,” said M’kwanga, “if I go to fight to-morrow by myself, I shall
never return to Mahyiga.”
He stalked away sullenly, and the Waganda became cold and distant
towards us, as though we were to blame for the sad event. The Wazongora
bewailed their chief aloud, and the strangely mournful tones of their
lamentations produced a powerful impression on all who heard them.
Before many minutes had elapsed, I had manned my boat and five canoes,
and was on my way to Iroba before the intelligence could be spread,
simply with the view to ascertain how far the king of Iroba was involved
in this affair. I found him to be perfectly innocent of all knowledge of
anything that had occurred at Bumbireh since morning. Upon asking him if
any natives of Ihangiro were there, he answered that one of Antari’s
youngest sons was there. We proceeded to the hut, and the young man was
secured and conveyed into the boat, and the king of Iroba was instructed
to convey the intelligence to Bumbireh to the chiefs of Antari’s people,
and to tell them that, if they intended to make peace, they must be
quick, and send me word of it before noon of the next day, as I should
not be able to restrain the Waganda or defer my departure another day.
The arrival of messengers from the post of observation on the summit of
the island announcing that the canoes of the Expedition were seen coming
from the south, distracted the attention of all for a period, and soon
the summit was lined with the figures of the anxious Wangwana, some of
whom had wives and children, besides relatives and friends in the little
fleet that was bearing towards the island with miniature sails set.
By sunset they were answering their safe arrival close to us with cheer
after cheer, and soon had landed amid hearty greetings.
But Manwa Sera, to cap the day’s dismal and tragic record, had to report
the loss of two men, who were drowned by the collapse of one of the
rotten canoes, which added another cause for grief. The riding asses
also were in a pitiable condition, for the poor things, being obliged to
be bound in the small canoes, were terribly chafed even to the quick,
and could scarcely stand. The rest of the force were in good condition,
and no property had been lost or other accident occurred.
That evening, while the sorrowing Wazongora made the camp doleful with
their loud mournful cries for the dead chief, Frank and all the Wangwana
chiefs were summoned to my tent to discuss our future. I only wished to
hear their views, to discover their sentiments, not to disclose my own.
The unanimous opinion of the party was that we were bound to fight. All
I could say on the other side availed nothing to shake the decision they
had arrived at. Then they were dismissed with a promise that I should
impart my resolution in the morning. I also enjoined on Frank to double
the guard over the captives, lest they might be injured during the
night.
Alone with myself, I began to discuss seriously the strict line of duty.
If it were a military Expedition that I commanded, duty would have
pointed out the obvious course to follow; but though the Expedition was
governed for its own well-being after military principles, it was an
expedition organized solely for the purposes of exploration, with a view
to search out new avenues of commerce to the mutual advantage of
civilization and such strange lands as we found suitable for commercial
and missionary enterprise. But whatever its character, its members
possessed the privilege of self-defence, and might justly adopt any
measures, after due deliberation, for self-protection. The principles of
right and justice every educated Christian professes to understand, and
may be credited with a desire to observe, but in addition to these, it
was desirable in a person in my position—knowing how frequently it is
necessary to exercise them in barbarous lands—to remember charity and
forbearance, in order to ensure the objects in view, and to create good
impressions for the benefit of those who might succeed the pioneer.
Thirteen days had elapsed since our arrival at Mahyiga, and the
thirteenth day was signalized by this bloody attack upon people
entrapped to their death maliciously, and evidently by a preconcerted
arrangement between Antari’s elders and the chiefs of Bumbireh. Sabadu
said also that the last words he had heard as the Waganda paddled away
from Bumbireh were, “Look out for mischief to-morrow,” which no doubt
meant that the war “shauri” was nearly terminated, and that all were by
this time worked up into proper fighting spirit.
The Expedition was now ready to move towards Uganda, but the water-way
had first to be opened; whatever plot was on hand must be frustrated,
and treachery punished; otherwise impunity would inspire an audacity
which might be dangerous to our safety.
Apart, therefore, from a duty owing to the wounded Waganda and the dead
chief of Kytawa, as well as to our respect for and gratitude to Mtesa
and Kytawa—apart from the justice which, according to all laws human and
divine, savage and civilized, demands that blood shall atone for blood,
especially when committed with malice prepense, and the memory of our
narrow escape from their almost fatal wiles, and the days of agony we
had suffered—there lay the vital, absolute, and imperative necessity of
meeting the savages lest they should meet us. For they were by this time
reinforced by about 2000 auxiliaries from the mainland; they were
flushed with triumph at their success in the snare they had set for the
unsuspecting Waganda, and the sight of their dead victim would only
inspire them with a desire for more blood.
As I could not see any way to avoid the conflict, I resolved to meet
them on their own island, and by one decisive stroke break this
overweening savage spirit. I should, however, wait the result of my last
message, for it might be that the capture of one of Antari’s sons might
induce them to embrace peaceful proposals.
_August 4._—Accordingly next morning a couple of ammunition boxes were
opened, and twenty rounds distributed to each man who bore a ride or
musket; 230 spearmen and fifty musketeers were detailed for a fighting
party, and eighteen canoes were prepared to convey them to Bumbireh.
I waited until noon, having gazed through a field-glass many times in
the direction of Bumbireh, but nothing was observed approaching Mahyiga.
The force was therefore mustered, and I addressed it to this effect—
“My friends and Wangwana,—We must have the sea clear. Whatever mischief
these people have meditated must be found out by us, and must be
prevented. I am about to go and punish them for the treacherous murder
of our friends. I shall not destroy them, therefore none of you are to
land unless we find their canoes, which we must break up. We must fight
till they or we give in, for it can only be decided in this manner.
While in the fight you will do exactly as I tell you, for I shall be
able to judge whether their fierce spirit is broken, or whether we shall
have to fight on land.”
As the distance between Bumbireh and Mahyiga was about eight miles, we
did not arrive until 2 P.M. before the former island. It was evident
that the savages had expected us, for the heights of the hilly ridge
were crowded with large masses, and every point was manned with
watchmen.
Through my field-glass I observed messengers running fast to a thick
plantain grove which crowned the southernmost hill, and commanded a view
of all approach to a cove that penetrated to its base. It was clear that
the main force of the natives was ready in the shadows of the grove.
Calling the canoes together, I told the chiefs to follow my boat, and to
steer exactly as I did. We made a feint of entering into this cove, but
when near the point, perceiving that we were hidden by the lofty hill
from the observation of those in the grove and of the look-outs, we
swerved to the left, and, clinging to the land, pulled vigorously until
we came to a cape, after rounding which we came in view of a fine and
noble bay to our right.
By this manœuvre the enemy was revealed in all his strength. The savages
were massed behind the plantains as I had suspected, and from their
great numbers proved much too strong to be attacked under cover. All the
eastern and northern sides of the bay were surrounded by lofty hills,
which sloped steeply to within a few feet of the water’s edge, and were
covered with small shingly rocks and thin short grass. The low shelf of
land that lay between the hill base and the water was margined with tall
cane-grass.
We steered straight east towards the more exposed hill slopes. The
savages, imagining we were about to effect a landing there, hurried from
their coverts, between 2000 and 3000 in number. I examined the shores
carefully, to see if I could discover the canoes which had conveyed this
great number of warriors from the mainland. Meanwhile we pulled slowly,
to afford them time to arrange themselves.
Arrived within 100 yards of the land, we anchored in line, the stone
anchors being dropped from midships that the broadsides might front the
shore. I told Lukanjah of Ukerewé to ask the men of Bumbireh if they
would make peace, whether we should be friends, or whether we should
fight.
“Nangu, nangu, nangu!” (“No, no, no!”) they answered loudly, while they
flourished spears and shields.
“Will they not do anything to save Shekka?”
“Nangu, nangu! Keep Shekka; he is nobody. We have another M’kama”
(king).
“Will they do nothing to save Antari’s son?”
“Nangu, nangu. Antari has many sons. We will do nothing but fight. If
you had not come here, we should have come to you.”
“You will be sorry for it afterwards.”
“Huh,” incredulously. “Come on; we are ready.”
Further parley was useless; so each man having taken aim was directed to
fire into a group of fifty or thereabouts. The result was several killed
and wounded.
The savages, perceiving the disastrous effect of our fire on a compact
body, scattered, and came bounding down to the water’s edge, some of the
boldest advancing until they were hip-deep in water; others, more
cautious, sought the shelter of the cane-grass, whence they discharged
many sheaves of arrows, all of which fell short of us.
We then moved to within 50 yards of the shore, to fire at close
quarters, and each man was permitted to exercise himself as he best
could. The savages gallantly held the water-line for an hour, and slung
their stones with better effect than they shot their arrows. The spirit
which animated them proved what they might have done had they succeeded
in effecting a landing at Mahyiga by night, but here, however, the
spear, with which they generally fight, was quite useless.
Perceiving that their spirit was abating, we drew the canoes together,
and made a feint as though we were about to make a precipitate landing,
which caused them to rush forward by hundreds with their spears on the
launch. The canoes were then suddenly halted, and a volley was fired
into the spearmen, which quite crushed their courage, causing them to
retreat up the hill far away from the scene. Our work of chastisement
was complete.
The Waganda spearmen (230 strong), who had been, up to this time, only
interested spectators, now clamoured loudly to be permitted to land and
complete the work of vengeance. M’kwanga was fierce in his demands; the
Wangwana seconded the Waganda, and in their hot ardour several of the
canoes rushed on the shore, but as this extremity was not my object, I
resisted them, and when, despite my refusal, they persisted in their
attempts to land, I threatened to fire upon the first man, Mgwana or
Mgwanda, who set foot upon the shore, and this threat restored order.
Lukanjah was again told to warn the natives of Bumbireh that, if they
had not had enough of fighting, we should return next day, but that we
would allow them a night to think over it.
It was dark when we arrived at our camp; but we did not omit, while
passing Iroba, to comfort the friendly king with the assurance that he
need not fear trouble, as he was not involved in the atrocious acts of
Bumbireh.
_August 5._—Having thus shown sufficient boldness in meeting the enemy
and demonstrated our ability for the encounter, it was now clear that
the passage of the channel, with the women and children and property of
the Expedition, might be performed without danger. Accordingly, on the
5th of August, at early dawn, we began the embarkation. The fourteen
Kiganda canoes were large, with ample storage room, and all the goods,
ammunition, and asses, and all the timid, men, women, children, and
Wanyamwezi, were placed in these. Our eighteen canoes of Ukerewé and
Komeh and five lent us by generous Kytawa proved sufficient to transport
the remainder, consisting of the more active members of the party, who
were directed, in the event of trouble, to range on either side.
At the tap of M’kwanga’s drum, without which no party of Waganda march,
and a cheery blast from Hamadi’s bugle, the thirty-seven canoes and
boat, containing 685 souls, departed from our island cove towards
Bumbireh.
About 9 A.M. we were abreast of Bumbireh, and when, on coming to the
bay, we saw hundreds of people lining the topmost ridges, I deemed it
expedient to make a demonstration once more in order to discover the
effect of the previous day’s engagement. On arriving near the shore, a
shot was fired, the effect of which was to cause about a hundred to
scamper away hastily. Others, whom we distinguished as elders, after
hailing us, came down towards us.
Lukanjah was requested to ask, “If we were to begin the fight again?”
“Nangu, nangu, M’kama.” (“No, no, king.”)
“The trouble is over then?”
“There are no more words between us.”
“If we go away quietly, will you interfere with us any more?”
“Nangu, nangu.”
“You will leave strangers alone in future?”
“Yes, yes.”
“You will not murder people who come to buy food again?”
“Nangu, nangu.”
I then told them that, having murdered one and wounded eight of Mtesa’s
people, it would be my duty to convey Shekka and his friends to him, but
I should intercede for them, and they would probably be back in two
moons. Advantage was also taken to point out the contrast between the
conduct of Bumbireh and that of Ukerewé, Komeh, Itawagumba, Kytawa, and
Kamiru, and to adorn the brief speech with a moral.
Turning away, we coasted along the much indented shores of the savage
island, and several times had opportunities of distinguishing the
altered demeanour of the natives and to observe that their fierce temper
had abated.
King Kamiru received us with princely magnificence. The Wazongora who
were with us extolled me as a father and begged his permission to
accompany me to Uganda. Kamiru, a bluff, hearty old man, kindly
consented, and furnished us with canoes to replace four of the most
rotten of the vessels from Ukerewé, which required constant caulking and
baling to prevent their foundering. The generous king supplied Frank and
myself with such a quantity of milk and honey that several potfuls
broke, and a section of the boat was a couple of inches deep with the
luscious mixture, which the boat’s crew licked up with broad grins of
satisfaction.
A bay separates Ihangiro from King Kamiru’s land. We were encamped on
the north side, which belongs to Kamiru; had we ventured on the south
side, we should have been in the enemy’s country. Desirous of showing
some kindness to Shekka and his friends, I made proposals to Kamiru to
accept them on behalf of Mtesa and to negotiate with Antari for their
release, but the king peremptorily refused, saying that he would be
unable to protect them, and that as they were Mtesa’s subjects, they
ought to be given up to him.
_August 8._—On the 8th of August we arrived once more on the little
island of Musira, whither we had before been driven by the natives of
Makongo, in King Kytawa’s country. The elders of all the villages along
his coast greeted us with acclamation. Makongo outdid the generosity of
Kamiru, for it sent four oxen besides 200 bunches of bananas. Kytawa
despatched quite a little army to bear his salaams and gifts of
provisions and messages, thanking me for avenging the death of his
chief, and making an offer of twenty canoes if I were short of vessels.
Inspired by the effect on the Wazongora which the punishment of the
natives of Bumbireh had created, Sabadu hinted that it would be
desirable to threaten Kyozza, the king of northern Uzongora, but he was
speedily made to understand that white men only fought in self-defence.
As we proceeded by Kyozza’s villages, Kagya, Weza, and Bugavu, the
inhabitants lined the shores without arms and loudly greeted us; and
when we stopped for our midday meal at a village near Weza, a messenger
from Kyozza came and promised us ten oxen if we would wait for that day
and accept his hospitalities. We returned a courteous reply, but
refused, upon the ground that we were in a hurry to proceed to Uganda.
_August 12._—We halted at Mezinda, and on the 12th of August, passing by
the mouth of the Alexandra Nile and Chawasimba Point, directed our
course for Dumo, in Uganda, at which place we arrived in the afternoon
without further incident of interest.
The next day was devoted to preparing a camp, arranging for supplies
with the neighbouring Watongoleh of Mtesa during my absence, and writing
letters to the _Daily Telegraph_ and _New York Herald_, giving in brief
an account of the events which are described in detail in this chapter,
a copy of which was left with Frank to send to the coast by way of
Karagwé and Unyanyembé.
A score of small matters employed my attention until midnight, of a
similar nature to those arranged before setting out from Kagehyi on the
exploration by circumnavigation of Lake Victoria in March. Before
retiring, messengers arrived in camp from Magassa—the dilatory admiral
of the canoe fleet despatched as my convoy in April—entreating me to
wait a couple of days for him before setting out for the capital of
Uganda. But as every hour was now precious, I was not able to defer my
departure.
-----
# 15:
This island has since had attached to it a sad interest. At Wezi,
Lieutenant Shergold Smith, and Mr. O’Neil, of the Church Missionary
Society, together with Sungoro the Arab, and many of their followers,
lately lost their lives while endeavouring to remove the Arab’s women—
among whom was Lukongeh’s young sister—from Ukerewé, without the
king’s permission or consent.
# 16:
On page 32, vol. i., ‘Last Journals,’ Livingstone says:—“It may have
been for the best that the English are thus known as people who can
hit hard when unjustly attacked, as we on this occasion most certainly
were.” Other instances could be cited from his books to prove Dr.
Livingstone’s views on such occasions.
# 17:
Antari, or “the lion,” is a favourite name with the Wahuma tribes.
# 18:
Six of these died subsequently to our arrival in Uganda, from the
effects of these wounds.
CHAPTER XII.
We find Mtesa at war—“Jack’s Mount”—Meeting with Mtesa—The Waganda army
in camp and on the march—The imperial harem—In sight of the enemy—The
Waganda fleet—Preliminary skirmishing—The causeway—The massacre of
Mtesa’s peace party—“What do you know of angels?”—Mtesa’s education
proceeds in the intervals of war—Translating the Bible—Jesus or
Mohammed?—Mtesa’s decision—The royal proselyte.
_August 13._—At Dumo rumour and gossip were busy about a war and a
mighty preparation which Mtesa, the Emperor of Uganda, was making for an
expedition against the Wavuma. He had not been as yet actually engaged,
it was said, though it was expected he would be shortly. In the hope,
then, of finding him at his capital, I resolved to be speedy in reaching
him, so that, without much delay, I might be able to return and
prosecute my journey to Lake Albert.
The first day, favoured by a gale from the north-west, the _Lady Alice_
left the fastest of the Waganda canoes far behind, but, obliged to halt
for her company, put in for the night among the mosquito-haunted papyrus
of Bwiru. The next day, after sailing across Sessé Channel, and passing
the mouth of the Katonga, we rested at Jumba’s Cove in Unjaku. From this
cove runs a wide road constructed by Mtesa about two years before, when
he undertook to invade Ankori and punish Mtambuko, the king of that
shepherd state. Though untouched during two years, it is still
sufficiently clear of grass to define its width and illustrate the
energy of Mtesa when aroused.
_August 18._—On the 18th of August we sailed to Ntewi, where we learned
two reliable facts. The king had already marched towards Usoga, and had
an engagement with his enemies, the Wavuma. When I heard this news, I
felt more than half inclined to turn back, for I knew by experience that
African wars are tedious things, and I was not in the humour to be
delayed long; but on reflection, and after much importunity from the
Waganda, I adhered to the first intention, by which I thought that
probably, though delayed, I might reach the Albert Nyanza by a short
route, which would in a manner balance the delay occasioned by visiting
Mtesa.
We also heard that the Wavuma were abroad on the lake in hundreds of
canoes searching for prey, and, not wishing the _Lady Alice_, which had
already done me such good service, to fall into their hands, we conveyed
the boat into the centre of the village, where we stored her and her
appurtenances—oars, sails, rudder, &c. I also heard that the oars, which
Magassa had received from Bumbireh, were in the chief of Ntewi’s house,
and had the satisfaction of seeing them once more under the charge of
the boat-keeper. We halted at Ntewi one day, by which I was enabled not
only to house the boat properly and to receive the oars, but to meet the
two soldiers left as guard of honour with Magassa and to receive salaams
from Mtesa, and more guards to ensure my welcome and comfort _en route_
to him.
_August 20._—Under the auspices of a considerable addition to our
convoy, we left Ntewi, and, paddling vigorously during the afternoon of
the 20th, arrived at Nankuma, in the bay of Buka. Here we left the
canoes, and the next day prosecuted our journey overland to avoid the
Wavuma, and camped at Ziba, at the base of “Jack’s Mount.”
This name is derived from a fatal accident to my faithful companion
Jack, a bull-terrier of remarkable intelligence and affection which
accompanied me from England. A wild cow given by the Mtongoleh for the
subsistence of the king’s stranger, being rather obstreperous in her
behaviour, was assaulted by Jack, but the cow in her turn tossed the
unfortunate dog and gored him to death. He died “regretted by all who
knew his many good qualities.” His companion, “Bull,” the last of five
English dogs, when he beheld his poor mate stretched out still and dead,
also expressed, as clearly as canine nature would allow, his great
sorrow at his lamentable fate. Grave and deliberate from years and long
travel, he walked round the body two or three times, examining it
carefully, and then advanced to me with his honest eyes wide open as if
to ask, “What has caused this?” Receiving no answer, he went aside and
sat down with his back to me, solemn and sad, as though he were
ruminating despondingly on the evils which beset dog and man alike in
this harsh and wicked world.
_August 22._—The next day, marching in an east by north direction from
Jack’s Mount, we crossed the Zedziwa, a stream rising at the base of a
hill situated but two miles from the north-western extremity of
“Grant[19] Bay,” which I believe to be the “Luajerri,” a stream Speke
sketched on his map as issuing from the Victoria and forming a second
outlet into the Nile.
Having explored by water all the coast washed by the Victoria Nyanza and
having since travelled on foot the entire distance between Nakaranga
Cape and Buku Bay, I can state positively that there is but one outlet
from the lake, viz. the Ripon Falls. There are three rivers, one on the
Usoga side of Napoleon Channel, called the Nagombwa, and two on the
Uganda side—the Zedziwa, rising in Makindo near Grant Bay, and the
Mwerango, rising west of Mtesa’s capital—any of which, seen by
travellers journeying at a little distance from the lake, might be
supposed by them to be outlets of Lake Victoria. The Nagombwa empties
into the Victoria Nile not far from Urondogani; the Zedziwa empties into
the Victoria Nile near Urondogani, and the Mwerango flows into the
Mianja, the Mianja flows into the Kafu, and the Kafu into the Victoria
Nile, somewhere in the neighbourhood of Rionga’s Island.
At Makindo I received the Emperor’s salaams for the fifth time since
arriving in Uganda, and his walking-stick,[20] as a token that it really
was Mtesa who sent the repeated messages of welcome. By sea and by land
his messengers of welcome had met me, and each stage was supplied with
an “augmented greeting” with many manifestations of his regard. I was
well convinced, from the repeated expeditions sent by land and water to
hunt up news of me when Magassa reported me as dead, that the friendship
conceived for me by Mtesa was something more than in name.
_August 23._—Arriving next day at Ugungu, opposite Jinja, or the Ripon
Falls, two more messengers came up breathless from the imperial camp—
which I could see covering many miles of ground—with yet an additional
welcome, and pointed out on the opposite side Mtesa and his chiefs, most
picturesque in their white dresses and red caps, with a large concourse
of attendants, waiting to see my party cross the channel. Five large
canoes were in readiness at the ferry, and also soldiers of the royal
guard to escort us through the vast crowds on the other side of the
channel.
Far different was the scene on this day around the Falls to that which
Speke had gazed upon in 1863, and to that which I had seen five months
before when I entered this channel after a skirmish with the Wavuma. For
now the channel swarmed with large canoes, and the shores of Ugungu and
Jinja were covered with thousands of men, women, and children; while
then all was silent and lonely, and the monotonous noise of falling
waters was the only sound that was heard.
Crossing the channel amid the noise and bustle of many thousands, we
soon found ourselves in the midst of the vast army that Mtesa had
collected from all parts of his empire. Natives of Karagwé, lean,
lank-bodied, and straight-nosed, with their deficiencies of calf made
up for by a preposterous fulness of ankle, caused by hundreds of
coils of fine iron wire, gathered round us with as much curiosity as
the ferocious Wakedi, who intruded their bodies, naked as when they
were born, among the clean-robed Waganda, reckless of the laughter
and jeering which their nudity provoked. The vain Wasoga also seemed
to forget, while they gazed on us, that they were as much objects of
curiosity to the rustic yet unabashed natives of Sessé, who stood
by them, as we were to them; for, indeed, look where I might, the
undisguised vanity of the Wasoga made them extremely conspicuous.
Though amidst such a large army of sable warriors, a solah topee,
European complexion, and boots wonderfully created of some kind of
leather, might well be deemed curiosities; yet lambskins of all
colours, stuffed with grass, and standing erect on men’s heads, and
long white-haired goat-skin for robes and loin coverings, were not a
whit less curious to the canoe-building natives of Sessé, who until now
had never, it seemed, witnessed such things. But, taking advantage of
the quiet complacency with which we permitted these warriors to gaze on
us, they began to press on us more closely than was convenient, until
they were scattered by the mighty sticks of the guards, who felled
them to right and left without remorse, and Wasoga, Wanyambu, Wakedi,
Wazongora, and Waganda were compelled to be more careful of their bones
than curious to see us.
THE OUTFALL OF THE VICTORIA NYANZA: RIPON FALLS, WHICH GIVE BIRTH TO
THE VICTORIA NILE.
CAMP OF REAR GUARD ON HILL.
(_From a photograph taken by the Author, from the Usoga side._)
]
A short time afterwards, near the imperial quarters, I met the great
chiefs of Uganda with whom I had struck up an acquaintance on my first
visit, among whom I recognized tall and handsome Chambarango, the king’s
steward Kauta, Sambuzi, and lastly the Katekiro—the Premier—brilliant in
his scarlet robe, white dress, and fez, attended by a retinue almost
regal. They all expressed their satisfaction at seeing me alive and
safe, and were all anxious to hear how we had escaped from Bumbireh.
_August 24._—The next day at the usual levee hour of Mtesa—8 A.M.—the
drums announced the levee as begun, and half an hour later the pages
came to conduct me to the presence of Mtesa. The imperial quarters
covered an area of about 200 yards square, and though but temporarily
put up, few Europeans could have constructed such commodious houses and
neat courts with such means, as the Waganda had prepared for their
sovereign.
The gates of the outer court were thronged with representatives of many
countries, anxious to get a glimpse of the great monarch in his state;
but the guards were merciless, and with gunstock and baton rudely thrust
or beat back the intrusive nameless, and were as flint-hearted in their
office as London policemen are on a similar occasion. For me the pages
sufficed. Their presence cleared a broad road to the gate, which was
drawn widely open to allow our procession to go by. One court was
passed, and when the gate of the levee court was drawn back, a most
picturesque scene was disclosed. In the centre rose a conical hut, at
the broad doorway of which sat a silent figure; on either side were
standard-bearers and the hereditary guards, while, forming a broad
crescent in the front rank, were the chiefs and important captains of
the Empire seated on mats. In the background the bodyguards of Mtesa
stood at “shoulder arms” in double ranks; in one corner were arranged
the drummers and musicians, while scattered here and there in the open
space before the monarch stood groups of claimants and courtiers.
As I advanced, Mtesa rose, and came to the edge of the leopard-rug, on
which his feet rested while seated, and there was even greater warmth in
this greeting than on the former occasion at Usavara. After a short
pause, Sabadu, the chief who had conducted me from Bumbireh, was called
forward to relate the incidents of our meeting, our fight with Bumbireh,
and other events of the journey, which he did with a most wonderful
minuteness of detail. He then in my name presented the captives of
Bumbireh to the king, with an intercession that he would not slay them,
but keep them in durance until their ransom was paid by Antari. Mtesa
was then informed of the purpose of my coming, which was to obtain the
guides he had promised me on my first visit, to show me the road to Muta
Nzigé; and I begged he would furnish them without much delay, as I had
already lost considerable time from his canoes having failed me.
Mtesa replied that he was now engaged in a war with the rebellious
people of Uvuma, who insolently refused to pay their tribute, harassed
the coast of Chagwé, and abducted his people, “selling them afterwards
for a few bunches of bananas,” and that it was not customary in Uganda
to permit strangers to proceed on their journeys while the _Kabaka_ was
engaged in war, but that the war would soon be over, when, if I would
wait, he would send a chief with an army to conduct me to the Nyanza
(Muta Nzigé) by the shortest road.
“Besides,” said he, “a small force cannot reach that lake. Kabba Rega of
Unyoro is at present at war with the whites of Kaniessa (Gondokoro), and
the people of Ankori do not admit strangers into their territory for
trade or otherwise, and all the roads to the lake run through their
countries.”
After this intelligence I saw that I had either to renounce the project
of exploring the Albert, and proceed at once to the Tanganika—which,
after coming so far out of the way, would perhaps have been regarded in
Europe as madness—or to wait patiently until the war was over, and then
make up by forced marches for lost time. But being again assured that
the war would not last long, I resolved to stay and witness it as a
novelty, and to take advantage of the time to acquire information about
the country and its people.
_August 27._—On the 27th of August, Mtesa struck his camp, and began the
march to Nakaranga, a point of land lying within 700 yards of the island
of Ingira, which had been chosen by the Wavuma as their depôt and
stronghold. He had collected an army numbering 150,000 warriors, as it
was expected that he would have to fight the rebellious Wasoga as well
as the Wavuma. Besides this great army must be reckoned nearly 50,000
women, and about as many children and slaves of both sexes, so that at a
rough guess, after looking at all the camps and various tributary
nations which at Mtesa’s command had contributed their quotas, I
estimated the number of souls in Mtesa’s camp to be about 250,000!
This large total may seem startling, but not more so to those acquainted
with the customs and population of Uganda and the nature and extent of
Mtesa’s authority, than the five millions and a quarter said to have
started with Xerxes in his invasion of Greece. I myself, though I saw
the vast area which the several camps occupied, did not believe it
possible, until one day I asked Mtesa, for the sake of satisfying my
curiosity, to permit me to make a muster-roll of his chiefs. Always
affable and willing to please white men, for whom he entertains profound
respect, he called together all his principal chiefs and officers (who
in Uganda are distinguished by the titles of Wakungu and Watongoleh),
and commanded them to bring the respective numbers of their sub-chiefs.
The following is the muster-roll of the generals and colonels made at
the time:—
Names of Generals. Number of
Sub-chiefs or
Colonels.
1. Pokino, the Katekiro, Chief of Uddu, and Premier of
Uganda 6
2. Chambarango, Chief of Usiro 6
3. Kaeema 6
4. Kitunzi, Chief of the Katonga valley 2
5. Sekebobo, Chief of Chagwé 24
6. Mkwenda 19
7. Kasuju, guardian of the imperial family 5
8. Kagu 5
9. Kangau 18
10. Kimbugwé 24
11. Katambalé 2
12. Nana Masurie, Mtesa’s mother 10
13. Sabaganzi, Mtesa’s uncle 4
—— 131
Emperor’s personal bodyguard 23
——
Total 154
These sub-chiefs command followers numbering from 50 to 3000, and
Mtesa’s bodyguard, though claiming twenty-three Watongoleh, must not be
estimated at a less number than 3000 in the aggregate. Now, roughly
calculating the native Waganda force at 125,000, we have to add the
quotas furnished by Karagwé, Uzongora, Ukedi, Usoga, Sessé, and the
islands of the lake, Irwaji, Lulamba, Kiwa, Uziri, Kibibi, &c., also all
the Arabs and Wangwana guests who came with their guns to assist Mtesa,
and 25,000 seems to me to be a reasonable estimate of the force drawn
from these sources.
The advance-guard had departed too early for me to see them, but,
curious to see the main body of this great army pass, I stationed myself
at an early hour at the extreme limit of the camp.
First with his legion came Mkwenda, who guards the frontier between the
Katonga valley and Willimiesi against the Wanyoro. He is a stout, burly
young man, brave as a lion, having much experience of wars, and cunning
and adroit in their conduct, accomplished with the spear, and
possessing, besides, other excellent fighting qualities. I noticed that
the Waganda chiefs, though Muslimized, clung to their war-paints and
national charms, for each warrior, as he passed by on the trot, was most
villainously bedaubed with ochre and pipe-clay. The force under the
command of Mkwenda might be roughly numbered at 30,000 warriors and
camp-followers, and though the path yesterday was a mere goat-track, the
rush of this legion on the half-trot soon crushed out a broad avenue.
The old general Kangau, who defends the country between Willimiesi and
the Victoria Nile, came next with his following, their banners flying,
drums beating and pipes playing, he and his warriors stripped for
action, their bodies and faces daubed with white, black, and ochreous
war-paint.
Next came a rush of about 2000 chosen warriors, all tall men, expert
with spear and shield, lithe of body and nimble of foot, shouting as
they trotted past their war-cry of “Kavya, kavya” (the two last
syllables of Mtesa’s title when young—_Mukavya_, “king”), and rattling
their spears. Behind them at a quick march came the musket-armed
bodyguard of the Emperor, about two hundred in front, a hundred on
either side of the road, enclosing Mtesa and his _Katekiro_, and two
hundred bringing up the rear, with their drums beating, pipes playing,
and standards flying, and forming quite an imposing and warlike
procession.
Mtesa marched on foot, bare-headed, and clad in a dress of blue check
cloth, with a black belt of English make round his waist, and—like the
Roman emperors, who, when returning in triumph, painted their faces a
deep vermilion—his face dyed a bright red. The _Katekiro_ preceded him,
and wore a dark grey cashmere coat, which M. de Bellefonds had given
him. I think this arrangement was made to deceive any assassin who might
be lurking in the bushes. If this was the case, the precaution seemed
wholly unnecessary, as the march was so quick that nothing but a gun
would have been effective, and the Wavuma and Wasoga have no such
weapons.
After Mtesa’s bodyguard had passed by, chief after chief, legion after
legion, followed, each distinguished to the native ear by its different
and peculiar drum-beat. They came on at an extraordinary pace, more like
warriors hurrying up into action than on the march, and it is their
custom, I am told, to move always at a trot when on an enterprise of a
warlike nature.[21]
About two hours after the main body began its march, Kasuju, the
guardian of the young princes and Mtesa’s women, preceded by a thousand
spears and followed by a similar number, trotted by. The women numbered
about 5000, but not more than 500 can be styled the Emperor’s
concubines; the others were for the duties of the household.
If beautiful women of sable complexion are to be found in Africa, it
must, I thought, be in the household of such a powerful despot as Mtesa,
who has the pick of the flower of so many lands. Accordingly I looked
sharply amongst the concubines, that I might become acquainted with the
style of pure African beauty. Nor was I quite disappointed, though I had
imagined that his wives would have all been of superior personal charms.
But Mtesa apparently differs widely from Europeans in his tastes. There
were not more than twenty out of all the five hundred worthy of a glance
of admiration from a white man with any eye for style and beauty, and
certainly not more than three deserving of many glances. These three,
the most comely among the twenty beauties of Mtesa’s court, were of the
Wahuma race, no doubt from Ankori. They had the complexion of quadroons,
were straight-nosed and thin-lipped, with large lustrous eyes. In the
other graces of a beautiful form they excelled, and Hafiz might have
said with poetic rapture that they were “straight as palm-trees and
beautiful as moons.” The only drawback was their hair—the short crisp
hair of the negro race—but in all other points they might be exhibited
as the perfection of beauty which Central Africa can produce. Mtesa,
however, does not believe them to be superior, or even equal, to his
well-fleshed, unctuous-bodied, flat-nosed wives: indeed, when I pointed
them out to him one day at a private audience, he even regarded them
with a sneer. Speke, if I remember rightly, declares that fatness in
womankind is synonymous with beauty in Uganda. This may once have been
the case, but it is certainly not so now, for in few women regarded with
favour by Mtesa or his chiefs have I seen any gross corpulence of body.
Naturally, where there is abundance of good digestible food, and the
climate is agreeable, humanity of the respectable class will generally
be found to be well clothed in flesh, be it in Uganda or in England, but
it is somewhat unreasonable to state that the respectable class
therefore considers superfluous rotundity to be an element of beauty.
After the royal harem followed Mtesa’s uncle, ancient and well-featured
Sabaganzi, whom, as regards the multitude of women that followed him, I
looked upon for a long time as a very Solomon among the Waganda, until
one day I learned that large possessions of womankind mean wealth in
Uganda, for all of them have a market value, and are saleable for wares
of any kind, be they cloth, cows, beads, or guns. Still I cannot quite
acquit the old gentleman of the imputation of gallantry, for one night,
at Nakaranga, he slew with his own hand a lover who had come to serenade
one of his numerous Dulcineas. Besides the character I have credited him
with, I must dub him as a jealous, vindictive, choleric old pagan,
despite his fine features and smooth tongue.
Wearied with gazing on the vast multitude, which rolled by steadily
in wave after wave, a living tide of warriors, and having gained
sufficient insight into their numbers and method of travel, I left
my post of observation and struck into the line of march behind
Sabaganzi’s rear-guard, where, to say the least, I was much annoyed by
the rush of hurrying warriors, all of whom thought it necessary to push
on to the front in spite of all obstacles. The guards given to me by
Mtesa to conduct me on the road did their utmost to check the furious,
persistent impetuosity of the on-coming warriors, and used their stout
staffs with angry violence. The blows, however, were quite harmless, as
they were warded off by ample shields of wood and cane.
Perceiving it useless to contend against such a weight of numbers and
such well-established custom, I submitted to the annoyance patiently, as
the march to Nakaranga would not occupy more than two or three days.
At Mpani, where we camped that night, we learned that the Wavuma, soon
after our departure from Jinja, or the “Stones,” had paid a visit to it,
and set the abandoned imperial quarters and the camp on fire, besides
spearing some five or six unfortunates before the chief appointed to
guard the camp was aware of their presence. At sunset we saw the canoes
of the Wavuma, some two or three hundred in number, returning in triumph
to their island.
_Sept. 1._—Four days afterwards, or on the 1st of September, the army of
Mtesa occupied Nakaranga, where it commenced to construct its camp, each
chief surrounded by the men of his own command in the position assigned
to him by the Katekiro.
The legion commanded by the officers of the queen-mother occupied the
ground east of Cape Nakaranga; the chief Ankori and his fantastically
dressed Wasoga camped north of Nana Masurie’s people; to the gallant
Mkwenda with his formidable legion was assigned the entire north of the
camp; and to the redoubtable Sekebobo, when he should arrive from
Namagongo Point, was appointed the lake side, from Mkwenda to the end of
Nakaranga Cape. The imperial quarters occupied an area of 400 yards
square in the centre of the vast camp, and was jealously guarded by the
bodyguard, the legions of the Katekiro, Chambarango, and Kimbugwé, by
Kasuju with the guard of the imperial family, and the bluff, outspoken
Kitunzi, chief of the Katonga valley.
The following rough sketch may assist the reader to understand better
the locality which at this period was of such importance to Uganda. By
sunset the army was comfortably housed in some 30,000 dome-like huts,
above which here and there rose a few of a conical shape and taller than
the rest, showing the temporary residences of the various chiefs.
Amid all the hurry and bustle the white stranger “Stamlee” (as all the
Waganda now called me) was not forgotten. Commodious quarters were
erected and allotted to him and his boat’s crew, by express orders from
Mtesa, near the great broadway which the Katekiro constructed, leading
from the imperial quarters to the point of Cape Nakaranga.
[Illustration]
Anxious to see what chances Mtesa possessed of victory over his
rebellious subjects, I proceeded along the road over the mountain to a
position which commanded a clear view of Ingira Island, whither the
rebels had betaken themselves, their families, and a few herds of
cattle. Considered as being in possession of some twenty thousand
savages, whose only weapons of war were the spear and the sling, Ingira
Island presented no very formidable obstacle to a power such as the
Emperor of Uganda had amassed on this cape, only 700 yards from it. In
length it was barely a mile, and only half a mile in width from the base
of the mountain which confronted the cape to the water’s edge on the
Uvuma side. The mountain rose on all sides with rather a steep slope,
but was easy of ascent to the nimble-footed and deep-chested natives.
The Wavuma, however, were not without allies to assist them in averting
the punishment that Mtesa threatened them with, and the common danger,
as well as a common hate of the dread monarch, had drawn together, for
one strong effort to win their freedom, the inhabitants of Ugeyeya and
Utamba Islands, as well as Kitenteh—famous in the annals of Uganda for
its long but unfortunate struggle with the Emperor Suna, the father of
Mtesa.
The people of the entire coast of Usoga from Nakaranga to Uganda had
voluntarily enlisted in the cause of Uvuma, and had despatched over 150
large canoes fully manned to the war. The confederates, in arranging
their plan of action, had chosen Ingira Island as the rendezvous of the
united fleets of canoes. Mtesa’s plan was to capture this island, and to
cross over from Ingira to the next, and then to Uvuma, when, of course,
only immediate and complete submission would save them; and I rejoiced
that I was present, for I was in hopes that at such a period my
influence might be sufficient to avert the horrors that generally attend
victory in Africa. Though I had no reason to love the Wavuma, and for
the time was a warm ally of Mtesa, I was resolved that no massacre of
the submissive should take place while I was present.
The redoubtable Sekebobo, commanding twenty-four Watongoleh, or
colonels, and a force of about 50,000, occupied Namagongo, and the fleet
of Mtesa was under his charge, waiting orders to cross the bay with
them.
The Uganda war fleet numbered 325 large and small canoes, out of which
only 230 might be said to be really effective for war. One-half of these
were manned by Wasessé, natives of the large island of Sessé; the other
half by the courageous natives of the Irwaji and Lulamba Islands, by
picked men collected from the coast between Usavara and Buka Bay under
the command of Chikwata, the Vice-Admiral, by crews of Unjaku under
Vice-Admiral Jumba, and by the naval brigade of Gabunga, the Admiral of
the Fleet.
Gabunga, though entitled to be called Grand Admiral of the Fleet,
because under his charge were placed all the canoes of Uganda, numbering
perhaps 500 altogether, must not be supposed to exercise supreme command
in action. His duty was simply to convey the orders of the fighting
general to his captains and lieutenants, for the sailors, as in England
in former times—except in desperate extremity—seldom fight.
The fighting men of each canoe owe obedience only to their
General-in-chief; the sailors or paddlers obey Gabunga, the Grand
Admiral of the Fleet, who, again, is controlled by the General-in-chief.
Many readers, unless detained to consider the naval force of Mtesa,
might be contented with the mere figures giving the numerical strength
of his war-vessels. But let us for the sake of curiosity calculate the
number of men required to man these 230 effective war-canoes.
The largest canoe seen by me in this fleet measured 72 feet in length, 7
feet 3 inches in breadth, and was four feet deep within, from keel to
gunwale. The thwarts were 32 in number, to seat 64 paddlers besides the
pilot. There were probably over 100 canoes between 50 and 70 feet in
length, and about 50 between 30 and 50 feet long; the remaining 80
fighting-boats were of all sizes, from 18 to 30 feet long. The rest, of
the fleet consisted of small boats fit only to carry from three to six
men.
The largest class—100 in number—would require on an average fifty men
each to man them, which would be equal in the aggregate to 5000. The
second class would require on an average forty men each, or 2000 to man
the fifty canoes. The third class would average twenty men each, and
being eighty in number, would require 1600 men to man them, the sum
total standing therefore at 8600.
A very respectable figure for a naval force, most men would think. But
in a battle on the lake, or for such an occasion as the present, when
the resources of the empire were mustered for an important war, they
would be further required to carry a strong force to assault Ingira
Island. The canoes for the assault would therefore be crammed with
fighting men, the largest class carrying from 60 to 100 men exclusive of
their crews; so that the actual fact is that Mtesa can float a force of
from 16,000 to 20,000 on Lake Victoria for purposes of war.
Of the spirit with which the Wavuma intended to fight the Waganda, we
had proof enough on the second day of our arrival. They dashed up close
to the shore, and back again into the lake, three or four times, before
the Waganda remembered that they had means at hand in the shape of
muskets to purge them of this bravado. As the shots were fired at the
canoes, most of the Wavuma bent their heads low and paddled their canoes
with one hand, but a few of the boldest stood up exhibiting for our
benefit their dexterity in the use of the spear, and to show how well
they could maintain their footing on the thwarts of their narrow canoes.
Their bravado was not without its effect on many of the Waganda, for I
heard several remark that the Wavuma would be hard to conquer.
On the third morning Sekebobo, having been instructed during the night,
began to cross the bay of Nakaranga with the imperial fleet. Mtesa had
sent a messenger to inform me that the chief was about to start, and I
hastened up to the beach to witness the sight. I found that almost all
the Waganda were animated with the same curiosity, for the beach was
lined for three or four miles with dense masses of people, almost all
clad in the national brown, bark-cloth robes.
The Wavuma meanwhile kept their eyes on Sekebobo, and from the summit of
their mountain island discerned, almost as well as if they had been told
by Mtesa, what was about to be done; and to frustrate this, if possible,
or at least to gather booty, they hastily manned 100 canoes or
thereabouts, and darted out like so many crocodiles towards Namagongo.
Before Sekebobo could arrange the fleet in order, the Wavuma were in the
middle of the bay to dispute his passage, and calmly awaiting his coming
into deep water.
A hundred canoes against 325 was rather an unequal contest, and so the
Wavuma thought, for as the fleet of Mtesa approached in a compact,
tolerably well-arranged mass, the Wavuma opened their line to right and
left, and permitted their foe to pass them. The Waganda, encouraged
by this sign, began to cheer, but scarcely had the first sounds of
self-gratulation escaped them when the Wavuma paddles were seen to
strike the water into foam, and, lo! into the midst of the mass
from either flank the gallant islanders dashed, sending dismay and
consternation into the whole Uganda army.
What work those desperate Wavuma might have done, I know not, but Mtesa
at the sight leaped up high, and shouted his war-cry, “Kavya, kavya!”
and the army, men, women, and children, screamed “Kavya, kavya!” and the
approaching fleet, hearing the cry, echoed it fiercely, and turned
itself on the enemy with spirit. But the Wavuma, having made fourteen
good prizes, did not wish, so unequally matched, to meet the Waganda in
a pitched fight, and accordingly hastened away—contented for the time—
into deeper water, whither, strangely enough, the Waganda fleet did not
dare to follow them.
This short but spirited scene caused me to reflect deeply, and to ask
myself why, if the Wavuma were so courageous, I was permitted to escape
from their hands; and why one boat and a double-barreled elephant-rifle
were sufficient to release us, in our voyage of discovery, from thirteen
well-manned Wavuma canoes. Some answers to this question were derived
subsequently from observation of events.
A pause of two or three days without incident followed the arrival of
Sekebobo’s legion and Mtesa’s fleet. Then Mtesa sent for me, and was
pleased to impart some of his ideas on the probable issue of the war to
me, in something like the following words:—
“Stamlee, I want your advice. All white men are very clever, and appear
to know everything. I want to know from you what you think I may expect
from this war. Shall I have victory or not? It is my opinion we must be
clever, and make headwork take that island.”
Smiling at his naïve, candid manner, I replied that it would require a
prophet to be able to foretell the issue of the war, and that I was far
from being a prophet; that headwork, were it the best in the world,
could not take Ingira Island unassisted by valour.
He then said, “I know that the Waganda will not fight well on the water;
they are not accustomed to it. They are always victorious on land, but
when they go in canoes, they are afraid of being upset; and most of the
warriors come from the interior, and do not know now how to swim. The
Wavuma and Wasoga are very expert in the water, and swim like fish. If
we could devise some means to take the Waganda over to the island
without risking them in the canoes, I should be sure of victory.”
I replied, “You have men, women, and children here in this camp as
numerous as grass. Command every soul able to walk to take up a stone
and cast into the water, and you will make a great difference in its
depth; but if each person carries fifty stones a day, I will warrant you
that in a few days you will walk on dry land to Ingira.”
Mtesa at this slapped his thighs in approval, and forthwith commanded
the Katekiro to muster two legions and set them to work, and very soon
the face of the rocky mountain was covered with about 40,000 warriors,
or about a sixth of the multitude at the cape, toiling at the unusual
work of making a rocky causeway to connect Nakaranga with Ingira Island.
After they had been at work three hours, I proceeded to view the
progress they were making, and saw that they were expending their
energies in making a causeway about 100 feet wide. I told the Katekiro
that it would take a year to finish such a work, but if he would limit
the width to 10 feet, and form the people into rows, he would have the
satisfaction of setting foot on Ingira Island without danger. But though
the Premier and first lord of Uganda lost none of his politeness, and
never forgot that Mtesa, his master, was pleased to call me his friend,
I was not slow in perceiving that he would not accept friendly advice
from a stranger and a foreigner. It was not by words, or even a hint or
unfriendly gesture, that the fact was betrayed, but simply by
inattention to my advice. The most courtly European could not have
excelled the Uganda Premier. He offered in the same friendly manner a
gourdful of the honey-sweet wine of the plantain, talked sociably upon
various matters, invited verbal sketches of European life, and smiled in
an aristocratically insolent manner. Nevertheless, under this urbane
mask, I detected a proud spirit, unbending as steel. With such an
unruffled, composed, smiling patrician of Uganda, what could I do but
groan inwardly that good, brave, excellent Mtesa should be served by
such men? At the same time, I could not help smiling at the diplomatic
insouciance of this man, who indeed represented in only a too perfect
degree the character of the Waganda chiefs.
For two days the work was carried on in the way I had described, namely,
with rocks, and then Mtesa thought that filling the passage with trees
would be a speedier method, and the Katekiro was so instructed. For
three days the Waganda were at work felling trees, and a whole forest
was levelled and carried to Nakaranga Point, where they were lashed to
one another with bark-rope, and sunk.
On the morning of the fifth day Mtesa came down to the point to view the
causeway, and was glad to see that we were nearer by 130 yards to Ingira
Island. While viewing the island, he asked me what I thought of sending
a peace party over to ascertain the feeling of the Wavuma. I replied
that it would be a good and wise thing in Europe, but not in Central
Africa, as I feared the Wavuma would massacre the entire party. Mtesa,
however, advised by the chiefs or one of the Wagwana, persisted in the
idea, and a favourite page, named Webba, was about to be sent in a large
canoe with fifty men to open negotiations for peace with the Wavuma,
when I entreated that he would listen to me, and send a small, rotten
canoe instead. He listened to me so far as to send a canoe manned with
only fifteen men. As they were paddling on, unthinking and undreading
danger, I cried out to Mtesa, who was about twenty yards from me, “Say
farewell to Webba, for you will see little Webba no more.”
The Katekiro and two or three of his chiefs smiled as if this was most
absurd. I felt precisely at this moment as I felt the first time I saw a
bull-fight: a cold shiver of horror crept over me. I was helpless and
unable to avert the tragedy which instinct warned me would be enacted.
The entire Uganda army was concentrated on the slope of Nakaranga
mountain, and the eyes of the vast multitude were fastened upon this
scene; and no doubt they thought as I did, that it was a moment of
thrilling interest. The men of the Uganda canoe fleet were in their
camps, and the canoes were all beached near them.
The peace party held on its way until near Ingira, when one of them
opened a conversation with the Wavuma, the result of which was an
invitation to take their canoe in-shore. As they paddled the canoe
gently in among the rushes that lined the island, I observed that all
the Wavuma gathered together near the place where the Waganda were
expected to land, and that several Wavuma canoes pushed out in order
that the Waganda might have no chance of escape.
We waited only a few seconds for what was about to happen. The canoe of
the peace party had scarcely touched their island before we heard the
shrieks of the unfortunates pealing across the water, and then the
triumphant shouts of the Wavuma; and soon we saw men rushing to the
point of their island nearest the causeway, and with jeers and scoffing
they showed the bloody heads of the unfortunates to Mtesa, and tossed
them into the lake. Mtesa rose gloomy and disconcerted, and returned to
his quarters much depressed in spirits, but he gave instructions to his
Katekiro to continue the work on the causeway.
The Katekiro, placidly obedient, instructed two chiefs, the two chiefs
instructed their Watongoleh, the Watongoleh instructed their men, and
the result of these several instructions was, that about 100 men out of
150,000 were seen lounging idly on the causeway and that was all, for
the novelty of the idea had now worn off.
Nothing more was heard of the bridge, for Mtesa had conceived a new
idea, which was, to be instructed in the sciences of Europe. I was
to be a scientific encyclopædia to him. Not wishing to deny him, I
tried, during the afternoon of the massacre, to expound the secrets of
nature and the works of Providence, the wonders of the heavens, the
air, and the earth. We gossiped about the nature of rocks and metals,
and their many appliances, which the cunning of the Europeans had
invented to manufacture the innumerable variety of things for which
they are renowned. The dread despot sat with wide-dilated eyes and
an all-devouring attention, and, in deference to his own excitable
feelings, his chiefs affected to be as interested as himself, though I
have no doubt several ancients, such as Kangau and Sabaganzi, thought
the whole affair decidedly tedious, and the white man a “bore.” The
more polite and courtly Katekiro, Chambarango, and Kauta vied with
each other in expressing open-mouthed and large-eyed interest in this
encyclopædic talk. I drifted from mechanics to divinity, for my purpose
in this respect was not changed. During my extemporised lectures, I
happened to mention angels. On hearing the word, Mtesa screamed with
joy, and to my great astonishment the patricians of Uganda chorused,
“Ah-ah-ah!” as if they had heard an exceedingly good thing. Having
appeared so learned all the afternoon, I dared not condescend to
inquire what all this wild joy meant, but prudently waited until the
exciting cries and slapping of thighs were ended.
The boisterous period over, Mtesa said, “Stamlee, I have always told my
chiefs that the white men know everything, and are skilful in all
things. A great many Arabs, some Turks, and four white men have visited
me, and I have examined and heard them all talk, and for wisdom and
goodness the white men excel all the others. Why do the Arabs and Turks
come to Uganda? Is it not for ivory and slaves? Why do the white men
come? They come to see this lake, our rivers and mountains. The Arabs
bring cloth, beads, and wire, to buy ivory and slaves; they also bring
powder and guns; but who made all these things the Arabs bring here for
trade? The Arabs themselves say the white men made them, and I have seen
nothing yet of all they have brought that the white men did not make.
Therefore, I say, give me the white men, because if you want knowledge,
you must talk with them to get it. Now, Stamlee, tell me and my chiefs
what you know of the angels.”
Verily the question was a difficult one, and my answer would not have
satisfied Europeans. Remembering, however, St. Paul’s confession that he
was all things to all men, I attempted to give as vivid a description of
what angels are generally believed to be like, and as Michael Angelo and
Gustave Doré have laboured to illustrate them, and with the aid of
Ezekiel’s and Milton’s descriptions I believe I succeeded in satisfying
and astonishing the king and his court; and in order to show him that I
had authority for what I said, I sent to my camp for the Bible, and
translated to him what Ezekiel and St. John said of angels.
This little incident, trivial as it may appear, had very interesting
results. Encyclopædic talk was forgotten in the grander and more sublime
themes which Scripture and divinity contributed. The Emperor cast
covetous eyes on the Bible and my Church of England Prayer Book, and
perceiving his wish, I introduced to him a boy named Dallington, a pupil
of the Universities Mission at Zanzibar, who could translate the Bible
into Kiswahili for him, and otherwise communicate to him what I wished
to say.
Henceforth, during the intervals of leisure that the war gave us, we
were to be seen—the king, court, Dallington, and I—engaged in the
translation of an abstract of the Holy Scriptures. There were readers
enough of these translations, but Mtesa himself was an assiduous and
earnest student.
Having abundance of writing-paper with me, I made a large book for him,
into which the translations were fairly copied by a writer called Idi.
When completed, Mtesa possessed an abridged Protestant Bible in
Kiswahili, embracing all the principal events from the Creation to the
Crucifixion of Christ. St. Luke’s Gospel was translated entire, as
giving a more complete history of the Saviour’s life.
When the abridged Bible was completed, Mtesa called all his chiefs
together, as well as the officers of his guard, and when all were
assembled, he began to state that when he succeeded his father he was a
Mshensi (a heathen), and delighted in shedding blood because he knew no
better, and was only following the customs of his fathers; but that when
an Arab trader, who was also a Mwalim (priest), taught him the creed of
Islam, he had renounced the example of his fathers, and executions
became less frequent, and no man could say, since that day, that he had
seen Mtesa drunk with pombé. But there were a great many things he could
not understand, such as, why circumcision was necessary to gain
Paradise, and how it was possible that men having died could enjoy
earth’s pleasures in heaven, and how men could walk along a bridge of
the breadth of a hair, for such were some of the things the sons of
Islam taught. He could not comprehend all these things, as his sense
condemned them, and there was no one in Uganda able to enlighten him
better. But as it was in his heart to be good, he hoped God would
overlook his follies and forgive him, and send men who knew what was
right to Uganda. “Meanwhile,” said he with a smile, “I refused to be
circumcised, though the Arabs say it is the first thing that should be
done to become a true son of Islam. Now, God be thanked, a white man,
‘Stamlee,’ has come to Uganda with a book older than the Koran of
Mohammed, and Stamlee says that Mohammed was a liar, and much of his
book taken from this; and this boy and Idi have read to me all that
Stamlee has read to them from this book, and I find that it is a great
deal better than the book of Mohammed, besides, it is the first and
oldest book. The prophet Moses wrote some of it a long, long time before
Mohammed was even heard of, and the book was finished long before
Mohammed was born. As Kintu, our first king, was a long time before me,
so Moses was before Mohammed. Now I want you, my chiefs and soldiers, to
tell me what we shall do. Shall we believe in Isa (Jesus) and Musa
(Moses) or in Mohammed?”
Chambarango replied, “Let us take that which is the best.”
The Katekiro said, “We know not which is the best. The Arabs say their
book is the best, and the white men say their book is the best—how then
can we know which speaks the truth?”
Kauta, the imperial steward, said, “When Mtesa became a son of Islam, he
taught me, and I became one; if my master says he taught me wrong,
having got more knowledge, he can now teach me right. I am waiting to
hear his words.”
Mtesa smiled and said, “Kauta speaks well. If I taught him how to become
a Muslim, I did it because I believed it to be good. Chambarango says,
‘Let us take that which is best.’ True, I want that which is the best,
and I want the true book; but Katekiro asks, ‘How are we to know which
is true?’ and I will answer him. Listen to me: The Arabs and the white
men behave exactly as they are taught by their books, do they not? The
Arabs come here for ivory and slaves, and we have seen that they do not
always speak the truth, and that they buy men of their own colour, and
treat them badly, putting them in chains and beating them. The white
men, when offered slaves, refuse them, saying, ‘Shall we make our
brothers slaves? No; we are all sons of God.’ I have not heard a white
man tell a lie yet. Speke came here, behaved well, and went his way home
with his brother Grant. They bought no slaves, and the time they were in
Uganda they were very good. Stamlee came here, and he would take no
slaves. Abdul Aziz Bey (M. Linant Bellefonds) has been here, and is
gone, and he took no slaves. What Arab would have refused slaves like
these white men? Though we deal in slaves, it is no reason why it should
not be bad; and when I think that the Arabs and the white men do as they
are taught, I say that the white men are greatly superior to the Arabs,
and I think therefore that their book must be a better book than
Mohammed’s, and of all that Stamlee has read from his book I see nothing
too hard for me to believe. The book begins from the very beginning of
this world, tells us how it was made, and in how many days; gives us the
words of God Himself, and of Moses, and the prophet Solomon, and Jesus,
the son of Mary. I have listened to it all well pleased, and now I ask
you, shall we accept this book or Mohammed’s book as our guide?”
To which question, no doubt seeing the evident bent of Mtesa’s own mind,
they all replied, “We will take the white man’s book”; and at hearing
their answer a manifest glow of pleasure lighted up the Emperor’s face.
In this manner Mtesa renounced Islamism, and professed himself a convert
to the Christian Faith, and he now announced his determination to adhere
to his new religion, to build a church, and to do all in his power to
promote the propagation of Christian sentiments among his people, and to
conform to the best of his ability to the holy precepts contained in the
Bible.
I, on the other hand, proud of my convert, with whom I had diligently
laboured during three months, promised that, since Dallington wished it,
I would release him from my service, that he might assist to confirm him
in his new faith, that he might read the Bible for him, and perform the
service of a Bible reader until the good people of Europe should send a
priest to baptize him and teach him the duties of the Christian
religion.
“Stamlee,” said Mtesa to me, as we parted, nearly two months after the
massacre of the peace party, “say to the white people, when you write to
them, that I am like a man sitting in darkness, or born blind, and that
all I ask is that I may be taught how to see, and I shall continue a
Christian while I live.”
-----
# 19:
So called after Colonel James Augustus Grant, the amiable and
chivalrous companion of Speke.
# 20:
This custom of sending walking-sticks also obtains in Dahomey.
# 21:
The war-cries of the Waganda begin by shouting the full title of their
respective chiefs, and end with the last syllables, thus:—
This perhaps explains why Speke spelt _thanks_ “N’yanzig,” for Waganda
return thanks by first saying, “Twiyanzi-yanzi-yanzi,” and this, when
repeated rapidly, sounds like “N’yanzig.”
CHAPTER XIII.
The war-drum beaten—The wizards play their part—In full war-paint—
Bullets against spears—The Wavuma baulked—Mtesa’s fury—Victory or the
stake!—Hard fighting—The captive chief: a struggle between the pagan
and the Christian—A floating mystery—“Return, O spirit! the war is
ended!”—The camp on fire: a race for life.
_Sept. 14._—On the 14th of September the Emperor of Uganda decided to
give battle to the Wavuma, who were daily becoming bolder and more
boastful. In the morning, in accordance with Mtesa’s orders, forty
Waganda canoes sallied out from the beach in front of our camps to
Nakaranga Point, where they formed in line of battle before the
causeway, with the sterns of their canoes fronting Ingira, and their
bows towards Nakaranga Point.
Mtesa was followed by about three-fourths of his army when he proceeded
to the point to view the battle, and with him went the great war-drums,
to the number of fifty or thereabouts, and fifes about a hundred, and a
great number of men shaking gourds filled with pebbles, and the court
criers and mad charmers against evil were not wanting to create din and
noise, and celebrate victory.
A hut of ample size had been erected on the mountain slope overlooking
the strait, into which Mtesa and his favourite women retired. When the
Emperor was seated, the “prophets of Baal,” or the priests or
priestesses of the Muzimu, or witchcraft, came up, more than a hundred
in number, and offered the charms to Mtesa one after another in a most
tedious, ceremonious way, and to all of them Mtesa condescended to point
his imperial forefinger.
The chief priest was a most fantastically dressed madman. It is
customary before commencing a battle to carry all the potent medicines
or charms of Uganda (thus propitiating the dreadful Muzimu or evil
spirits) to the monarch, that he may touch or point his forefinger at
them. They consist of dead lizards, bits of wood, hide, nails of dead
people, claws of animals, and beaks of birds, a hideous miscellany, with
mysterious compounds of herbs and leaves carefully enclosed in vessels
ornamented with vari-coloured beads.
During the battle these wizards and witches chant their incantations,
and exhibit their medicines on high before the foe, while the
gourd-and-pebble bearers sound a hideous alarum, enough to cause the
nerves of any man except an African to relax at once.
Mtesa and his army were in full war-paint, and the principal men wore
splendid leopard skins over their backs, but the Wasoga bore the palm
for splendour of dress and ornate equipments.
Ankori the chief and his officers were wonderfully gay. Snow-white
ostrich plumes decorated their heads, and lion and leopard skins covered
their backs, while their loins were girded with snow-white, long-haired
monkey and goat skins; even the staves of their lances were ornamented
with feathers and rings of white monkey skin.
There was ample time afforded to observe all these things, and to be
exceedingly amused and interested in what promised to be an animating
scene, before all attention was drawn to and engaged by the battle. The
spectators were seated, safe from harm or danger, on the slope of
Nakaranga mountain, from the water’s edge to the mountain summit, tier
above tier, and rank above rank, in thousands upon thousands.
The canoes, having formed line, slowly moved sternwise towards Ingira.
The Wavuma were not inactive spectators of this manœuvre, but as yet
their warriors had not embarked. They were busy mustering, while those
appointed to garrison the island, with the women and children, several
thousands in number, sate down on the slopes of the opposite mountain of
Ingira Island. The rushes and weeds lining the water’s edge were too
tall and thick to enable us to estimate exactly the number of the
enemy’s war-canoes, but the brown-coloured prows, long and curving, of a
great many were seen thrust out from among the vivid green banana
plantations, or arranged on the rising beach of the island beyond its
reedy margin.
Having advanced with the utmost regularity of line, near enough to the
island to make their “Brown Bess” muskets effective, the Waganda began
to open fire in a steady, deliberate manner, and succeeded after a while
in annoying the foe and arousing him to action. At a given signal from
their chiefs, forth from the reeds and rushes shot the prows of the
Wavuma canoes; and then, giving utterance to most shrill war-cries, the
rowers impelled them from all quarters, to the number of 194, with an
extraordinary velocity upon the Waganda line, which now began to retire
slowly towards the causeway.
On the causeway at its farthest extremity were assembled a force of a
hundred musketeers and four small boat howitzers under the command of
the Katekiro and Mtesa’s factotum Tori.
The furious advance of the Wavuma soon caused the Waganda to hurry their
movements, and on approaching the causeway they parted their line,
rushing on either side of it, giving the Katekiro and Tori ample
opportunity to wreak their will on the pursuers. But owing to the want
of skill of the cannoniers, and the nervousness of the musketeers, very
little damage was inflicted on the Wavuma, but the noise and whirring of
lead and iron sufficed to check them, and caused them to withdraw with
much of the baffled aspect of hungry crocodiles cheated of their prey.
This was all the battle—but, short as it was, it had sufficed to prove
to me that Mtesa would be unable to take Ingira Island, garrisoned and
defended as it was by such a determined foe. After a while Mtesa
withdrew from the scene, the army returned to its quarters, and the
canoes of the Waganda, closely hugging the Nakaranga shore, went back to
their rendezvous, leaving the Wavuma masters of the situation.
During the afternoon of this day Mtesa held a grand levee, and when all
were assembled, he addressed them publicly to the effect that in a few
days another battle would be fought, but as he had heard very important
news, he intended to wait a while to ascertain if it was true.
Work progressed but languidly at the causeway. It was very tedious
waiting, but my time was principally occupied in teaching Mtesa and his
principal chiefs, and in gleaning such information as might enable me to
understand the complicated politics of the empire.
_Sept. 18._—Suddenly on the 18th of September, at early dawn, orders
were communicated to the chiefs to prepare for battle. The first
intelligence of it that I received was from the huge war-drums which
summoned both sailors and warriors to action.
But first a burzah, or council, was held. Though eager to learn the
news, I dared not appear too much interested in the war. Sabadu, who
would be present on guard, would be sure to relate to me all the details
of whatever transpired.
At night, though I interpolate it here for the benefit of the narrative,
gossipy Sabadu, whose retentive brain I knew I could trust, conveyed to
me a faithful report of the proceedings; and I cannot do better than
give it to the reader in Sabadu’s language.
“Ah! master, you have missed a sight. I never saw Mtesa as he was
to-day. Oh, it was awful! His eyes were as large as my fists. They
jumped from their sockets, and they were glowing as fire. Didn’t the
chiefs tremble! They were as children, whimpering and crying for
forgiveness. He said to them, ‘Wherein have I been unkind to you, that
you will not fight for me, for my slaves who were sent to Usoga have
returned saying there was not a man but either had joined me or had
already joined the Wavuma? Who gave you those clothes that you wear?
Who gave you those guns that you have? Was it not I? Did Suna my father
give his chiefs such fine things as I give? No; yet they fought for
him, and the boldest of them would not have dared to advise him to fly,
as you have done me. Am I not _Kabaka_? Is this not Uganda, as well
as my capital? Have I not my army here? And you, Katekiro, were you
not a peasant before I dressed you and set you up as a chief of Uddu?
And you, Chambarango, who made you a chief? And you, Mkwenda, and you,
Sekebobo, and you, Kimbugwé, Kitunzi, Kaeema, Kangau, Kagu, speak, was
it not Mtesa who made you chiefs? Were you princes, that you came to be
made chiefs, or peasants whom it was my pleasure to make chiefs? Ah,
ha! I shall see to-day who will not fight; I will see to-day who dares
to run away from the Wavuma. By the grave of my father, I will burn the
man over a slow fire who runs away or turns his back, and the peasant
who distinguishes himself to-day shall eat his land. Look out for
yourselves, chiefs. I will sit down to-day and watch for the coward,
and the coward I will burn. I swear it.’ Instantly the Katekiro fell on
his face to the earth, and cried, ‘Kabaka’ (emperor), ‘send me to-day
to fight, watch my flag, and if I turn my back to the Wavuma, then take
and burn me or cut me to little pieces.’ The example of the Katekiro
was followed by the other chiefs, and they all swore to be desperately
brave.”
About 8.30 A.M., while I was at the point of Nakaranga, the sound of
drums approached me, and I knew that the council was ended, and that the
battle would soon begin. Mtesa appeared anything but a Christian,
judging from his looks. Fires of fury shot from his eyes; and pages,
women, chiefs, and all seemed awe-stricken. I was then ignorant of what
had taken place, but when I observed the absence of Chambarango, and
several of the great Wakungu, or generals, I felt assured that Mtesa had
lately been in the midst of a scene.
Presently other drums sounded from the water-side, and soon the
beautiful canoes of Uganda appeared in view. The entire war-fleet of 230
vessels rode gracefully on the calm grey waters of the channel.
The line of battle, I observed, was formed by Chambarango, in command of
the right flank, with fifty canoes; Sambuzi, Mukavya, Chikwata, and
Saruti, all sub-chiefs, were ranged with 100 canoes under the command of
Kauta, the imperial steward, to form the centre; the left flank was in
charge of the gallant Mkwenda, who had eighty canoes. Tori commanded a
force of musketeers, and with his four howitzers was stationed on the
causeway, which was by this time 200 yards from the shore.
In the above manner the fleet of vessels, containing some 16,000 men,
moved to the attack upon Ingira. The centre, defended by the flanks,
which were to menace the rear of the Wavuma should they approach near
the causeway, resolutely advanced to within thirty yards of Ingira, and
poured in a most murderous fire among the slingers of the island, who,
imagining that the Waganda meant to carry the island by storm, boldly
stood exposed, resolved to fight. But they were unable to maintain that
courageous behaviour long. Mkwenda then moved up from the left, and
attacked with his musketeers the Wavuma on the right, riddling their
canoes, and making matters specially hot for them in that quarter.
The Wavuma, seeing matters approaching a crisis, and not wishing to die
tamely, manned their canoes, and 196 dashed impetuously, as at first,
from the rushes of Ingira with loud shrill yells, and the Waganda lines
moved backward to the centre of the channel, where they bravely and
coolly maintained their position. As the centre of the Uganda line
parted in front of the causeway and disclosed the hotly advancing enemy,
Tori aimed the howitzers and fired at a group of about twenty canoes,
completely shattering more than half of them, and reloading quickly, he
discharged several bolts of iron three inches long among them with
terrible effect. Before this cool bearing of the Waganda, the Wavuma
retired to their island again, and we saw numbers of canoes discharging
their dead and wounded, and the Waganda were summoned to Nakaranga shore
to receive the congratulations of the Emperor and the applause of the
vast multitude. Mtesa went down to the water’s edge to express his
satisfaction at their behaviour.
“Go at them again,” said he, “and show them what fighting is.” And the
line of battle was again formed, and again the Wavuma darted from the
cover of the reeds and water-cane, with the swiftness of hungry sharks;
beating the water into foam with their paddles, and rending the air with
their piercing yells. It was one of the most exciting and animating
scenes I ever beheld; but, owing to the terror of the stake with which
their dread monarch had threatened them, the Waganda distinguished
themselves for coolness and method, and the Wavuma, as on a former
occasion, for intrepidity and desperate courage.
A third time the Waganda were urged to the battle, and a third time the
unconquerable and desperate enemy dashed on them, to be smitten and
wounded sore in a battle where they had not the least chance of
returning blow for blow without danger of being swept by the cannon and
muskets on the causeway.
A third battle was fought a few days after between 178 Wavuma canoes and
122 Waganda; but had the Waganda possessed the spirit and dash of their
enemies, they might have decided the war on this day, for the Wavuma
were greatly dispirited.
A fourth battle was fought the next day by 214 Waganda canoes and 203
Wavuma canoes, after the usual delay and premonitory provocation. The
Wavuma obtained the victory most signally, chasing the Waganda within 40
yards of Nakaranga Cape, and being only driven from their prey by the
musketeers and the howitzers on the causeway, which inflicted great
execution on them at such close quarters. The Waganda did not attempt a
second trial this day, for they were disorganized and dispirited after
the signal defeat they had experienced.
The fleet of the Waganda returned to their rendezvous with the jeers and
scoffs of the intrepid Wavuma ringing in their ears. On enquiring into
the cause of the disaster, I learned that Mtesa’s gunpowder was almost
exhausted, and that he had scarcely a round left for each musket. This
fact alarmed him, and compelled him to request me to lend him my powder
in the camp at Dumo, which was refused in such a decided tone that he
never repeated the request.
_Oct. 5._—It was now the 5th of October, and I had left my camp on the
12th of August. It was necessary that I should participate in some
manner in the war and end it. Yet I scarcely knew how I should act
effectively to produce results beneficial to all parties. For though my
own interests and the welfare of the Expedition were involved and in a
manner staked on the success of the Waganda, and though a passive
partisan of Mtesa, yet the brave Wavuma, by their magnificent daring and
superb courage, had challenged my fullest sympathies. My energies and
thoughts were bent, therefore, upon discovering a solution of the
problem how to injure none, yet satisfy all.
It was clear that the Wavuma would not surrender without a frightful
waste of life; it was equally evident that Mtesa would not relax his
hold upon them without some compensation or satisfaction, nor assist me
in my projects of exploration unless I aided him in some manner.
At length I devised a plan which I thought would succeed; but before I
was enabled to perfect my scheme an incident occurred which called for
my immediate intervention.
Mtesa, by means of his scouts, had succeeded in capturing one of the
principal chiefs of the Wavuma, and his Wakungu and principal strangers
had been invited to be present to witness the execution of this chief at
the stake.
When I arrived at the scene, a large quantity of faggots had already
been collected to burn him. By this mode of punishment, Mtesa thought he
would be able to strike terror into the souls of the Wavuma.
Mtesa was in high glee when I entered the council: he was unable to hide
the triumph he felt at the terrible vengeance he was about to take for
the massacre of Webba, his favourite page, and the peace party.
“Now, Stamlee,” he said, “when the chief is at the stake,”—he was an old
man of sixty or thereabouts—“you shall see how a chief of Uvuma dies. He
is about to be burnt. The Wavuma will tremble when they hear of the
manner of his death.”
“Ah, Mtesa,” I said, “have you forgotten the words of the good book
which I have read to you so often? ‘If thy brother offend thee, thou
shalt forgive him many times.’ ‘Love thy enemies.’ ‘Do good to them that
hate you.’ ‘Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.’ ‘Forgive us our
trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us.’”
“But this man is a native of Uvuma, and the Wavuma are at war with me.
Have you forgotten Webba?”
“No, I remember poor little Webba. I saw him die, and I was very sorry.”
“Shall this man not die, Stamlee? Shall I not have blood for him,
Stamlee?”
“No.”
“But I shall, Stamlee. I will burn this man to ashes. I will burn every
soul I catch. I will have blood! blood! the blood of all in Uvuma.”
“No, Mtesa! no more blood. It is time the war was ended.”
“What!” said Mtesa, bursting into one of those paroxysms of fury which
Sabadu had so graphically described. “I will slay every soul in Uvuma,
will cut down every plantain, and burn every man, woman, and child on
that island. By the grave of my father Suna, I will.”
“No, Mtesa, you must stop this wild pagan way of thinking. It is only a
pagan who always dreams of blood and talks of shedding blood as you do.
It is only the pagan boy Mtesa who speaks now. It is not the man Mtesa
whom I saw, and whom I made a friend. It is not ‘Mtesa the Good,’ whom
you said your people loved. It is not Mtesa the Christian, it is the
savage. Bah! I have had enough of you, I know you now.”
“Stamlee! Stamlee! Wait a short time, and you will see. What are you
waiting for?” he said, suddenly turning round to the executioners, who
were watching his looks.
Instantly the poor old man was bound; but, suddenly rising, I said to
Mtesa, “Listen to one word. The white man speaks but once. Listen to me
for the last time. You remember the tale of Kintu which you told me the
other day. He left the land of Uganda because it stank with blood. As
Kintu left Uganda in the old, old days, I shall leave it, never to
return. To-day Kintu is looking down upon you from the spirit-land, and
as he rebuked Ma’anda for murdering his faithful servant, so is he
rebuking you to-day through me. Yes, kill that poor old man, and I shall
leave you to-day, unless you kill me too, and from Zanzibar to Cairo I
shall tell every Arab I meet what a murderous beast you are, and through
all the white man’s land I shall tell with a loud voice what wicked act
I saw Mtesa do, and how the other day he wanted to run away because he
heard a silly old woman say the Wasoga were marching upon him. How grand
old Kamanya must have wept in the spirit-land when he heard of Mtesa
about to run away. How the lion-hearted Suna must have groaned when he
saw Mtesa shiver in terror because an old woman had had a bad dream.
Good-bye, Mtesa. You may kill the Mvuma chief, but I am going, and shall
not see it.”
Mtesa’s face had been a picture wherein the passions of brutish fury and
thirsty murder were portrayed most faithfully; but at the mention of
Suna and Kamanya in the spirit-land looking down upon him, the tears
began to well in his eyes, and finally, while they rolled in large drops
down his face, he sobbed loudly like a child, while the chiefs and
executioners, maintaining a deathly silence, looked very uncomfortable.
Tori the cannonier and Kauta the steward, however, sprang up, and,
unrolling their head-dresses, officiously wiped Mtesa’s face, while the
poor wayward man murmured audibly as I walked away from the scene:—
“Did not Stamlee talk about the spirit-land, and say that Suna was angry
with me? Oh, he speaks too true, too true! Oh father, forgive me,
forgive me.” After which, I was told he suddenly broke away from the
council.
An hour afterwards I was summoned by a page to his presence, and Mtesa
said:—
“Stamlee will not say Mtesa is bad now, for he has forgiven the Mvuma
chief, and will not hurt him. Will Stamlee say that Mtesa is good now?
And does he think Suna is glad now?”
“Mtesa is very good,” and I clasped his hand warmly. “Be patient, all
shall come out right, and Kintu and Suna must be glad when they see that
Mtesa is kind to his guests. I have something to tell you. I have
thought over your trouble here, and I want to finish this war for your
good without any more trouble. I will build a structure which shall
terrify the Wavuma, and make them glad of a peace, but you must give me
plenty of men to help me, and in three days I shall be ready. Meantime
shout out to the Wavuma from the causeway that you have something which
will be so terrible that it will finish the war at once.”
“Take everybody, do anything you like; I will give you Sekebobo and all
his men.”
_Oct. 6._—The next morning Sekebobo brought about 2000 men before my
quarters, and requested to know my will. I told him to despatch 1000 men
to cut long poles 1 inch thick, 300 to cut poles 3 inches thick and 7
feet long, 100 to cut straight long trees 4 inches thick, and 100 to
disbark all these, and make bark rope. Himself and 500 men I wished to
assist me at the beach. The chief communicated my instructions and urged
them to be speedy, as it was the Emperor’s command, and himself
accompanied me to the canoe fleet.
[Illustration: THE FLOATING FORTLET MOVING TOWARDS INGIRA.]
I selected three of the strongest-built canoes, each 70 feet long and 6½
feet wide, and, after preparing a space of ground near the water’s edge,
had them drawn up parallel with one another, and 4 feet apart from each
other. With these three canoes I began to construct a floating platform,
laying the tall trees across the canoes, and lashing them firmly to the
thwarts, and as fast as the 7-foot poles came, I had them lashed in an
upright position to the thwarts of the outer canoes, and as fast as the
inch poles arrived, I had them twisted in among these uprights, so that,
when completed, it resembled an oblong stockade, 70 feet long by 27 feet
wide, which the spears of the enemy could not penetrate.
_Oct. 7._—On the afternoon of the second day, the floating fort was
finished, and Mtesa and his chiefs came down to the beach to see it
launched and navigated for a trial trip. The chiefs, when they saw it,
began to say it would sink, and communicated their fears to Mtesa, who
half believed them. But the Emperor’s women said to him: “Leave Stamlee
alone; he would not make such a thing if he did not know that it would
float.”
_Oct. 8._—On receiving orders to launch it, I selected sixty paddlers
and 150 musketeers of the bodyguard to stand by to embark as soon as it
should be afloat, and appointed Tori and one of my own best men to
superintend its navigation, and told them to close the gate of the fort
as soon as they pushed off from the land. About 1000 men were then set
to work to launch it, and soon it was floating in the water, and when
the crew and garrison, 214 souls, were in it, it was evident to all that
it rode the waves of the lake easily and safely—
“The invention all admired, and each how he
To be the inventor missed, so easy it seemed
Once found, which yet unfound most would have thought
Impossible”—
and a burst of applause from the army rewarded the inventor.
Several long blue Kaniki and white and red cloths were hoisted above
this curious structure, which, when closed up all round, appeared to
move of its own accord in a very mysterious manner, and to conceal
within its silent and impenetrable walls some dread thing, well
calculated to strike terror into the mind of the ignorant savage.
_Oct. 13._—At eight o’clock on the morning of the 13th of October the
army was assembled at Nakaranga with unusual display, and it was
proclaimed across the strait from the extremity of the causeway that a
terrible thing was approaching which would blow them into atoms if they
did not make peace at once and acknowledge the power of Mtesa; and I
believe that they declared that all the Muzimus and the charms of Uganda
were within, for I heard something said about Muzimu and Uganda. The old
Mvuma chief was also placed in prominent view, and induced to urge them
to accept the terms which Mtesa offered, viz. pardon to all, provided
they went through the form of submission. After this announcement, which
was made with all gravity, the awful mysterious structure appeared,
while the drums beat a tremendous sound, and the multitude of horns blew
a deafening blast.
It was a moment of anxiety to me, for manifold reasons. The fort,
perfectly defensible in itself against the most furious assaults by men
armed with spears, steadily approached the point, then steered direct
for the island of Ingira, until it was within fifty yards.
“Speak,” said a stentorian voice amid a deathly silence within. “What
will you do? Will you make peace and submit to Mtesa, or shall we blow
up the island? Be quick and answer.”
There was a moment’s consultation among the awe-stricken Wavuma.
Immediate decision was imperative. The structure was vast, totally
unlike anything that was ever visible on the waters of their sea. There
was no person visible, yet a voice spoke clear and loud. Was it a
spirit, the Wazimu of all Uganda, more propitious to their enemy’s
prayers than those of the Wavuma? It might contain some devilish, awful
thing, something similar to the evil spirits which in their hours of
melancholy and gloom their imagination invoked. There was an audacity
and confidence in its movements that was perfectly appalling.
“Speak,” repeated the stern voice; “we cannot wait longer.”
Immediately, to our relief, a man, evidently a chief, answered, “Enough,
let Mtesa be satisfied. We will collect the tribute to-day, and will
come to Mtesa. Return, O spirit, the war is ended!” At which the
mysterious structure solemnly began its return back to the cove where it
had been constructed, and the quarter of a million of savage human
beings, spectators of the extraordinary scene, gave a shout that seemed
to split the very sky, and Ingira’s bold height repeated the shock of
sound back to Nakaranga.
Three hours afterwards a canoe came from Ingira Island, bearing fifty
men, some of whom were chiefs. They brought with them several tusks of
ivory, and two young girls, daughters of the two principal chiefs of
Uvuma. These were the tribute. The ivory was delivered over to the
charge of the steward, and the young girls were admitted to the harem of
Mtesa, into the mystery of which no man dare penetrate and live. The old
Mvuma chief was surrendered to his tribe, and thus the long war
terminated on the evening of the 13th of October, 1875.
Glad shouts from both sides announced all parties equally pleased. The
same afternoon the canoe fleet of Uganda, which had by this time been
reduced to 275 in number, was escorted as far as Jinja by twenty Wavuma
canoes, and after it had departed and rounded Namagongo Point, releasing
their late foe from all fear of treachery, the Wavuma canoes presented
us with a peaceful exhibition of their dexterity, and gave us an
opportunity of viewing them more distinctly than we had previously been
able to do through the smoke of gunpowder.
_Oct. 15._—We set out next morning, the 15th of October, at three
o’clock. We were wakened by the tremendous “Jojussu,” the great king of
war-drums. Instantly we began to pack up, but I was scarcely dressed
before my people rushed up to me, crying that the immense camp was fired
in a hundred different places. I rushed out of my hut, and was astounded
to see that the flames devoured the grass huts so fast that, unless we
instantly departed, we should be burnt along with them. Hastily
snatching my pistols, I bade the Wangwana shoulder the goods and follow
me as they valued their lives.
The great road from Mtesa’s quarters to Nakaranga Point, though 100 feet
wide, was rendered impassable by furious, overlapping waves of fire.
There was only one way left, which was up the slope of Nakaranga
mountain, and through the camp of the Wasoga. We were not alone in the
attempt to escape by this way, for about 60,000 human beings had sought
the same path, and were wedged into an almost solid mass, so great was
the danger and the anxiety to be away from the cruel sea of fire below.
It was a grand scene, but a truly terrible one; and I thought, as I
looked down on it, that the Waganda were now avenging the dead Wavuma
with their own hands, for out of a quarter of a million human beings
there must have been an immense number of sick unable to move. Besides
these, what numbers of witless women and little ones having lost
presence of mind must have perished; and how many must have been
trampled down by the rush of such a vast number to escape the
conflagration! The wide-leaping, far-reaching tongues of flame
voraciously eating the dry, tindery material of the huts, and blown by a
strong breeze from the lake, almost took my breath away, and several
times I felt as if my very vitals were being scorched; but with heads
bent low we charged on blindly, knowing no guide save the instinct of
self-preservation.
[Illustration: THE NAPOLEON CHANNEL, LAKE VICTORIA, FROM THE HEIGHTS
ABOVE THE RIPON FALLS. FLOTILLA OF THE EMPEROR OF UGANDA CROSSING FROM
USOGA TO UGANDA.]
As soon as an opportunity permitted, I looked after the laggards of my
party, and by dint of severity kept them together, but three or four
were more than half inclined to give in before we breathed cooler air,
and could congratulate ourselves upon our safety.
Indignant at such a murderous course, for I mentally taxed Mtesa with
this criminal folly, I marched my party far from the route of the
Waganda army, and though repeatedly urged by Mtesa to attach myself to
his party, I declined to do so until he should explain to me why he had
commanded the camp to be fired without giving warning to his people or
to myself, his guest. His messenger at once acquitted him of such gross
recklessness, and declared that he had arrested several persons
suspected of having fired the camp, and that he himself had suffered the
loss of goods and women in the flames. I thereupon, glad that he was not
the author of the catastrophe, sent my salaams, and a promise to rejoin
him at Ugungu, on the Uganda side of the Ripon Falls, which I did on the
18th of October.
[Illustration:
FISH FOUND IN LAKE VICTORIA.
Sama-Moa, in the Nyassa tongue; round, open-mouthed, scaled, and
pig-headed-looking creature, 20 inches long.
]
CHAPTER XIV.
The Legend of the Blameless Priest—The heroes of Uganda—Chwa—Kimera, the
giant—Nakivingi—Kibaga, the flying warrior—Ma’anda—Wakinguru, the
champion—Kamanya, the conqueror of the Wakedi—Suna, the cruel—His
massacre of the Wasoga—Namujurilwa, the Achilles of Uganda—Setuba and
his lions—Kasindula the hero, peasant, and premier—Mtesa the mild-eyed.
Having arrived safely in Uganda, through most extraordinary and novel
scenes, I may be permitted to leave the direct narrative of our travels
and our life in Uganda in order to inform the reader on certain points
of the history of Mtesa’s country, beginning with Kintu, Priest,
Patriarch, and first King of Uganda.
Whatever of the incredible or marvellous may be discovered by the
learned critic in this chapter must not be debited against the author,
but against Sabadu and the elders who are responsible for the tale of
Kintu, the wars of Kamanya, Suna, and Mtesa, and the feats of
Namujurilwa, Setuba, and Kasindula the heroes, while Mtesa himself
furnished me with the names of the kings his forefathers, with many
other facts contained in this chapter.
For my part I regret only that want of space compels me to compress what
I have gathered of the history of this interesting country into a few
pages, but brief as it is, I venture to believe that it will not be
without interest to a large class of readers.
Uganda, then, was first peopled by immigrants from the north, about the
thirteenth or fourteenth century. But the date at which I thus fix the
arrival of the patriarch Kintu may be wrong; he may have arrived at a
much earlier period, and the names of a large number of his successors
may have sunk into oblivion.
Tradition, as well as it has been able, has faithfully preserved the
memory of the acts of the first of these immigrants, though it has
contemptuously omitted the acts of his successors, and, as usual, has
contrived to endow its favourites, here as elsewhere, with marvellous
power and extraordinary attributes.
Kintu, the first immigrant and the founder of Uganda, came from the
north, and perhaps derived his descent from some African Arab or
ancient Ethiopic family. He was a mild, humane, and blameless man, and
from his character was probably a priest of some old and long forgotten
order. He brought with him one wife, one cow, one goat, one sheep,
one banana-root, and a sweet potato; and, journeying in search of a
suitable land to dwell in, established himself finally on the western
bank of the Mwerango river, at Magonga,[22] near the present frontier
of Unyoro. He found the country uninhabited, for not a single soul then
dwelt in all the land lying between the lakes Victoria and Albert and
Muta Nzigé. Usoga was a wilderness, Ukedi a desolate plain, and the
fertile valleys of Unyoro were unpeopled.
The priest Kintu was alone in his kingdom. But these countries were not
destined to remain desolate long, for his wife was remarkably prolific.
She brought forth four children at a birth each year, and each male
issued into the world with an incipient beard and the powers of lusty
prime youth; and the female children at two years of age bore children,
who at an equally early age conceived and bore sons and daughters, until
the land began to be fully peopled, the forests to be cut down, the land
to be cultivated, and planted with bananas and corn.
The single cow, goat, sheep, and chicken increased after their kind by
some extraordinary manner, until they grew so numerous that each of the
offspring of Kintu soon possessed large herds of cattle, and flocks of
sheep and goats, and numerous chickens. The banana-root also, once
planted in the soil of Uganda by the holy hands of Kintu, sprang up
almost instantly into a stalk of vast girth, from the top of which hung
pendent such a cluster of fruit as is not seen in Uganda nowadays, and
the root spread itself over a large area, from which hundreds of bananas
shot upward with great stalks and all the leafy luxuriance of a large
plantation. The potato-plant also vied with the banana, for so great was
its vitality that it appeared to crawl over the ground so fast was its
growth.
When his offspring had grown so numerous that they crowded Magonga,
Kintu cut portions of the original banana-root and potato-plant and gave
to each family a portion, and having taught them how “to sow the glebe
and plant the generous vine,” bade them seek each a home, and establish
themselves in the land round about him. Those who received the banana
established their home south of Magonga, while those who received the
sweet potato-plant migrated to the north of Magonga, and dwelt in the
valleys of Unyoro. Hence it is that to this day the people of Uganda,
south, and all about Magonga, prefer the banana for food, while the
people of Wanyoro have such a predilection for sweet potatoes.
Being a priest, Kintu entertained a special aversion to the shedding of
blood, whether of man, animal, bird, or insect, but he did not instruct
his offspring to abstain from shedding the blood of beasts. If any
animal was to be slain for food, it was ordained that it should be taken
far from the neighbourhood of his house, and if a man was to be executed
for murder, the executioner dare not slay his victim near Kintu or his
house or his garden, neither might the man of blood at any time approach
the patriarch’s person. If the culprit on his way to execution could
contrive to make his way to Kintu’s presence and touch his feet or his
garments, or were the patriarch even to cast his eyes on him, his life
was safe.
When the good patriarch became old, his children forgot to follow his
pious example, for from the banana they had discovered the art of making
wine and strong drinks, with which they debauched themselves, and, being
daily intoxicated, committed indecencies, became violent in language,
reckless and hardened in impiety, and, worse than all, so rebellious as
to threaten to depose and kill him. Kintu bore this conduct in his
unloving children with meekness and sorrow for a long time, but warned
them that their impiety and violence would be punished some day; but
they heeded him not, for the wine had maddened them.
After a time, finding his admonitions of no avail, he said to his wife,
“See my sons whom I brought into this world have become wicked and hard
of heart, and they threaten to drive their father away or kill him, for
they say I am become old and useless. I am like a hateful stranger
amongst my own children. They shed the blood of their brothers daily,
and there is nothing but killing and bloodshed now, until I am sick of
blood. It is time for us to get away and depart elsewhere. Come, let us
go.” And in the night Kintu and his wife departed, taking with them
their original cow, goat, sheep, chicken, a banana-root, and a sweet
potato-plant.
In the morning it became known that their father Kintu was not in his
house, nor to be found anywhere, that he had left the country with all
the things which he had brought thither when he first arrived. Then all
were filled with sorrow, and great lamentation was made throughout the
land.
After three days, during which search was instituted far and wide for
the lost patriarch, Chwa, the eldest son, took his spear and shield in
his hand and said, “I am the first-born, and it is my right to sit in
the place of my father. Now you, my brothers, be good and beware of my
spear”; and Chwa being strong, his brothers feared him, and paid homage
to him as their king.
Chwa did not abandon the search for his father, though he had attained
the regal power. He seems to have cherished a hope that in some distant
country his father would be discovered, whither he might be able to
proceed to him and ask his forgiveness.
A rumour sometimes reached Chwa that his father had been seen, but none
of his several messengers succeeded in seeing him, and he at last died
without the hope being gratified.
Chwa was succeeded by his son Kamiera, a name to this day retained by
the members of the imperial family. Like his father Chwa, Kamiera
searched for the patriarch Kintu until his own death, without success.
Kamiera was succeeded by his gigantic son Kimera, who distinguished
himself as a hunter. He first introduced dogs for the chase, and was so
fond of them that he always led one by the cord wherever he went. It was
from this king that his successors inherited their partiality for the
canine race, and in the memory of many yet living Suna is remembered for
his extraordinary attachment to dogs, for the special subsistence of
which he surrendered whole districts. Mtesa was also seen by Speke
showing great fondness for a dog, but the present monarch has long ago
abandoned this traditional predilection, and he now prohibits their
presence in his court.
Kimera was of such size, strength, and weight that his feet made marks
in rocks, and the impress of one of his feet is shown to this day by the
antiquarians of Uganda in a rock situated not far from the capital,
Ulagalla. It is said that this mark was made by one of his feet slipping
while he was in the act of launching his spear at an elephant. Kimera
also explored countries remote and near, searching all the forests, the
wilderness, the plains, the fastnesses of the mountains, the summits of
hills and the caves, and travelled along all the river-banks in vain
quest for the lost Kintu.
The fact seemed to be impressed on the minds of all that Kintu was only
lost, not dead, that he was immortal, and Kimera, even more than his
predecessors, was indefatigable in his efforts to verify this belief. He
led in person large expeditions, and offered great rewards to peasants,
promising to make him who discovered Kintu next to the king in power—the
Katekiro of Uganda. But he likewise failed in the search, and finally
died.
Almass (which name, if Arabic, rendered into English, means “Diamond”)
succeeded Kimera the hunter. This king’s name is a favourite one among
the Arabs, which I take to be further evidence that the founder of the
Uganda monarchy had Asiatic blood in his veins. Of Almass, tradition
says nothing save that, like his father, he hoped to find Kintu. On his
death he was succeeded by his son Tembo.
After Tembo came Kigara, Wanpamba, Kaeema, and Nakivingi, the last being
remembered for his heroic valour and many conquests.
Nakivingi fought and subjected the Wanyoro, who, from their predilection
for sweet potatoes, may have deemed themselves long ago a separate
people from the Waganda, a theory by no means supported by the authority
of venerable tradition.
After Nakivingi we have a long list of kings, about whom tradition,
fable, and history are all alike silent. Morondo succeeded Nakivingi—the
Charlemagne of Uganda—and after him followed Sekamanya, Jemba, Suna I.,
Kimbugwé, Katerega, Ntewi, and Juko. This last, it is said, had a
headstrong, violent, and disobedient son, named Kyemba, whom he was
obliged to pacify with the island of Uvuma, whence afterwards he
appeared in Uganda, deposed his father Juko, and, slaying him, reigned
in his stead.
One of the heroes of Nakivingi was a warrior named Kibaga, who possessed
the power of flying. When the king warred with the Wanyoro, he sent
Kibaga into the air to ascertain the whereabouts of the foe, who, when
discovered by this extraordinary being, were attacked on land in their
hiding-places by Nakivingi, and from above by the active and faithful
Kibaga, who showered great rocks on them, and by these means slew a vast
number.
It happened that among the captives of Unyoro Kibaga saw a beautiful
woman, who was solicited by the king in marriage. As Nakivingi was
greatly indebted to Kibaga for his unique services, he gave her to
Kibaga as wife, with a warning, however, not to impart the knowledge of
his power to her, lest she should betray him. For a long time after
marriage his wife knew nothing of his power, but suspecting something
strange in him from his repeated sudden absences and reappearances at
his home, she set herself to watch him, and one morning as he left his
hut she was surprised to see him suddenly mount into the air with a
burden of rocks slung on his back. On seeing this she remembered the
Wanyoro complaining that more of their people were killed by some means
from above than by the spears of Nakivingi, and Delilah-like, loving her
race and her people more than she loved her husband, she hastened to her
people’s camp, and communicated, to the surprise of the Wanyoro, what
she had that day learned.
To avenge themselves on Kibaga, the Wanyoro set archers in ambush on the
summits of each lofty hill, with instructions to confine themselves to
watching the air and listening for the brushing of his wings, and to
shoot their arrows in the direction of the sound, whether anything was
seen or not. By this means on a certain day, as Nakivingi marched to the
battle, Kibaga was wounded to the death by an arrow, and upon the road
large drops of blood were seen falling, and on coming to a tall tree the
king detected a dead body entangled in its branches. When the tree was
cut down, Nakivingi saw to his infinite sorrow that it was the body of
his faithful flying warrior Kibaga.
Succeeding Kyemba came Tibandéké, Mdowra, Kaguru, Kikuruwé, and Ma’anda.
It was the fortune of this last king to discover news of the lost Kintu,
after a most remarkable and romantic manner.
Though history and fable are silent respecting the acts of many of
Ma’anda’s predecessors, we may well believe that each king made efforts
to discover the missing Kintu, as the belief that he was still alive
obtained as firm credence in the reign of Ma’anda as in the days of Chwa
and Kimera. With Ma’anda this belief was very strong, and spurred by the
hope that some day it would be his happy fortune to be successful, he
was ardent in the chase, penetrating great forests, and traversing
extensive plains and valleys, ostensibly to hunt game, but really to
hunt up news of Kintu.
It happened one day, after returning to his capital from one of these
expeditions, that a peasant living not far off was compelled from
lack of fuel for his family to enter a forest to cut wood. Having
over-exerted himself, and being very much fatigued, and his home being
far, he resolved to sleep in the forest, near his wood pile. For the
sake of security and uninterrupted sleep he constructed a rude hut, and
fenced it round with the branches of the prostrate trees, and when it
was completed he laid himself down and slept.
And a sound sleep it was, we may imagine, induced by hard labour and
fatigue, though not a dreamless one. For in his sleep, it is said, he
dreamed a strange dream, wherein he thought he heard a voice, which
said, “Go to a place in this forest, where the trees are very thick,
round an open space near a stream running by, and you will there see
something which will give you great wealth, and make you a great chief.”
Three times the dream was repeated. These words caused the heart of the
sleeping peasant to bound for joy; so much so that it woke him, and then
he began to regret that the good which was promised him was but a dream
and a mockery. But reflecting that he knew the place described, for he
had often been there, and that it was not very far off, he thought he
might as well obey the voice in the dream, if only for the sake of
satisfying his curiosity. He had dreamed the same dream thrice, and each
time the voice had been emphatic and precise, and he thought that there
might be something of truth conveyed in it.
After a few hours’ hurried travel, he approached the place described,
and his movements towards the spot became now very cautious, lest some
event might occur quite the reverse of his hopes, as dreams sometimes go
by contraries. He heard the murmur and gurgle of the stream, and the
soughing of the branches of the forest overhead in such a solitary place
filled his heart with awe. He began to feel frightened, though he knew
not at what, and was more than half inclined to turn back. Yet this
eerie feeling and alarm might be causeless; he therefore advanced into
the open space, and suddenly he saw there a sight that almost petrified
him.
Ranged in two rows, on either side of a venerable man, who reclined on a
kind of throne, were many warriors seated on mats. They held spears and
shields in their hands, and the complexion of these men was so light as
to resemble that of white men. The central figure on the throne was that
of an old man, whose long beard was white with age, and his complexion
was similar to the warriors seated on the mats. All were clothed in
spotless white robes.
For a time no man spoke, though all eyes were turned on the astonished
and awed peasant, and regarded him with a stern and awful gaze. Finally,
the silence was broken by the voice of the old man, which sounded to the
peasant like that which he had heard in the dream, and it said,
“Peasant, tell me what country this is.”
The peasant answered, trembling, and perspiring through excessive fear,
“Eh, don’t you know? This is Uganda.”
“And who was the first king?” demanded the old man. “Come tell me his
name?”
“Kintu,” answered the peasant.
“True,” said the old man. “Now tell me the name of the present king.”
“Ma’anda,” replied the peasant.
“Well then, depart instantly, and haste to Ma’anda the king, and bid him
come to Kintu, who shall be here to meet him, for Ma’anda has long
searched for Kintu, and Kintu has somewhat to tell Ma’anda. Bid him come
hither accompanied only by his mother and thyself, and mark me, not even
his dog must follow him. Haste and tell King Ma’anda all thou hast seen
and heard, and if thou art faithful, thy reward shall be great.”
The peasant needed to hear no more, but turned and fled away with the
speed of an antelope, and early at dawn next day arrived at the capital,
and proceeded direct to the Katekiro, to whom he said, “I have news to
tell King Ma’anda, and no man else must hear it. Take me to the king
without delay.”
The man’s manner, though he was mean in appearance, was peremptory, and
the Katekiro dared not refuse his request, but rose and conducted him to
the king.
It happened, strangely enough, that at the same moment Ma’anda was
relating to his mother, whom he had sent for, the story of a strange
dream he had dreamed during the night. He had scarcely finished its
relation when the Katekiro was announced, who said to him, “King, here
is a strange man, a peasant, I believe, who states that he has important
news to tell thee, and thee alone,” which when the king heard, and had
seen the peasant, he said to his mother, “Lo! now, this is the very man
I saw in my dream, who told me such wonderful news.”
Then turning eagerly to the peasant, he said to him, “Speak, man, what
is it thou hast to say to me?”
“O, king,” he replied, “I may not speak except to thee and thy mother,
for so have I been commanded.”
Then Ma’anda impatiently commanded the Katekiro to retire and, that they
might not be disturbed, to set a guard at the outer gate, so that on no
account either man, woman, or child might enter the inner court.
When they were quite alone, the peasant began to unfold to Ma’anda his
story from the beginning to the end, just as it is told here, concluding
with the old man’s words: “Bid the king come with his mother and
thyself, and, mark me, not even his dog must follow him.”
On hearing this news, Ma’anda said, “Come, let us go, only us three, for
so the old man said,” and taking his spear and shield, the king strode
out of the inner court through a private gate followed by his mother and
the peasant without communicating to a soul else whither he was going.
Despite this secrecy, however, it soon became publicly known that King
Ma’anda and his mother had left the palace, accompanied by a peasant,
and that they had taken the direction of the forest, towards which they
had been seen travelling with rapid steps by one who communicated the
information to the Katekiro.
This news plunged the principal chief of the kingdom into a state of
perplexity. He was for a moment at a loss what to do, for had his master
desired any other company he would undoubtedly have made it known; but,
on the other hand, this conduct was inexplicable, and the king might
have been lured by some cunning plausible tale to proceed in this
manner, whereby he might be destroyed without detection.
As the thought of treachery to the king flashed through his mind, he
instantly resolved to follow him and watch after his safety, and should
the peasant mean harm to him, he would be at hand, though unsuspected,
to assist his master. He therefore seized his spear and shield, and sped
away after the king in stealthy pursuit. Soon he discovered the king,
the king’s mother, and the peasant, and, slackening his steps, sought
only to keep them in view, and to elude the quick, searching glances
which he saw the king frequently dart behind him. They travelled in this
manner all that day and half of the next day, when the peasant informed
the king that they were approaching the appointed place.
The king, to assure himself that they had not been followed by any one,
looked keenly around once more, and having satisfied himself that they
were alone, he commanded the peasant to move on and point out the
meeting-place. Gliding under the shadows of the dense grove surrounding
the open space, they soon emerged from them, and were in front of the
extraordinary assembly, who appeared to have preserved the same posture
and attitude since the departure of the peasant on his errand to the
king.
As the three advanced near the extremity of the rows of seated warriors,
the old man on the throne asked the king, who was in advance, and gazing
on the scene with the greatest astonishment, “Who art thou?”
“I am Ma’anda,” he replied.
“Art thou the king?”
“I am.”
“And who is that woman with thee?” the old man demanded.
“My mother,” the king answered.
“It is well,” said he; “but how is it you did not observe what I
commanded? Why came ye not alone?”
“We have done exactly as we were told,” said the king. “There are only
my mother and this peasant with me, for no one knew of my departure.”
“But I have seen another man behind thee,” persisted the old man. “Tell
me who he is?”
“Rest assured,” said Ma’anda, “there is no man save this peasant with
me, for yesterday and to-day I looked several times behind me to make
sure that I was not followed.”
“Who was the first king of Uganda?” suddenly asked the old man.
“Kintu,” answered Ma’anda.
“Thou sayest truly,” said the old man slowly and deliberately; “and
Kintu was good. He injured no man, beast, bird, or insect, and no living
thing had cause to complain of him. He never even struck a man with a
stick, or caused him pain in any manner, for he loved his children like
a kind father should; but his sons grew exceedingly wicked, headstrong,
disobedient, and utterly unmanageable. They loved to shed blood. They
first slaughtered beasts, and became so accustomed to blood that at last
they slew their brothers and sisters. They became so madly in love with
blood that they wished to shed that of their good father Kintu. Then
Kintu saw that Uganda was no more a land for him, that it was unfit for
him to live in, and, oh! when he looked on the face of the land at
first, it was so fair and pure that it delighted his eyes, but when it
became red and filthy with the blood of innocent men and women and
children, it became hateful to Kintu, and he departed from the horrid,
cruel land. From Chwa down to Ma’anda each king has sought to find
Kintu, though in vain. Thou, Ma’anda, shalt see Kintu face to face, and
thou shalt hear him speak; but first I have somewhat to tell thee from
him. Listen, and mark well his words—but tell me who was that man that
followed thee hither?” he suddenly asked.
Ma’anda, well pleased that he of all his predecessors was selected to
see and converse with Kintu, had become all attention, and every fibre
and nerve quivered to hear the prelude to the introduction; but when
interrogated by the old man again upon a subject already satisfactorily
answered, he asked impatiently, “Why dost thou ask again when I have
already told thee that no man followed me here, because no man could
have known whither I went?”
“But I,” said the old man calmly, “saw a man follow thee step by step.
Why didst thou let him come, when I expressly told thee thou must come
only with thy mother and this peasant?”
The king’s mother and the peasant declared that Ma’anda had spoken
truly, and that no man followed them.
“I saw him behind that tree listening. Behold! there he stands,” said
the old man, suddenly pointing to the Katekiro, who, perceiving that he
was discovered, now came forward.
The three turned their eyes on hearing the words of the old man, and at
the sight of the Katekiro, Ma’anda grew desperately enraged, and with
passionate fury he seized his spear, launched it, and pierced his
faithful servant through the heart, who with a short, sharp shriek, fell
dead at his feet.
But, lo! when King Ma’anda and his companions turned to discover what
effect this scene had upon the old man and the seated warriors, they
found that they had vanished, and that not even the slightest trace of
them was left; at which the three stared at one another in the wildest
astonishment. Then the king, recovering from his surprise, fell upon the
ground and wept aloud, calling upon the name of Kintu; and the king’s
mother and the peasant added their cries to his, and wept as if their
hearts would break. But no blood-hating Kintu answered to them, only the
tall deep woods echoed their cries, “Kintu, Kintu-u, Kintu-u-u-u,” as if
in mockery of their sorrow.
All night they kept watch, breaking out now and then into moaning and
wailings for the last loss of the great father of Uganda. But Kintu,
after this scene, never more appeared in Uganda, and to this day he has
not been seen or heard of by any man.
After Ma’anda’s death succeeded Msangi, Namugara, and Chabagu. In the
time of this latter king flourished Wakinguru, a hero, whose name
history, cherished within the memories of admiring men, has preserved
for his unparalleled deeds. When Chabagu invaded Usoga, it appears that
the Wasoga were very numerous, and, having as yet never been reduced to
submission by the Waganda, very bold and fearless. The people of Usoga
mocked the victorious Waganda until Chabagu was roused to declare war
upon them; and to show them the prowess of the people whom they had so
insolently defied Chabagu permitted Wakinguru to cross over to Jinja
alone, that he might exhibit the warlike qualities of his nation in his
own person.
Wakinguru, we are led to believe, was a man of herculean frame, and we
may well suppose him gifted with more than common courage. He marched to
the height of Jinja with a large bundle of spears on his back, and his
shield was so ample and thick that it required two ordinary men to lift
it.
Arriving at a place where he could command a clear view of the Wasoga
camp, he shouted out a bold challenge to any man, or to all at once, to
approach him, that he might show them what manner of men were those who
had been so frequently insulted by them. Several of the Wasoga,
responding to the challenge, rushed up to try his mettle, but
Wakinguru’s spears were so formidable, and his strength so great, that
long before any of the foe came within distance permitting an ordinary
man to launch his spear, they were all dead men. The hero then plucked
his spears from the corpses, and prepared to meet the next party, who
came up in hot haste to avenge the deaths of their friends. Again the
redoubtable man launched his fatal spears, and again the Wasoga had to
lament the deaths of their champions.
Enraged by this, the Wasoga at length advanced in a body, and formed a
large circle round him; but Wakinguru only laughed at this manœuvre, and
continued remorselessly slaying, launching his whirring lengthy shafts
with the most deadly effect; and then, picking up the spears of his
enemies, with which the ground near him was plentifully strewn, he
returned their own weapons to them, launching them with the swiftness
and certainty of arrows. His strength sustained him in this unequal
contest from sunrise to sunset, when it was discovered that Wakinguru
had slain 600 men with his own hand! At night he crossed Jinja (or the
Falls) to Ugungu unharmed, where he refreshed himself with the bananas
and milk and water of Uganda, and where he received the warmest
congratulations from King Chabagu and his army.
Next morning Wakinguru renewed the battle, and it continued throughout
the whole of the second day, during which time the hero slew a similar
number; and on the third day also he fought with the same success, until
at last the Wasoga confessed that they were unable to meet him.
Then King Chabagu crossed the water above Jinja (Napoleon Channel), and
completed the conquest of Usoga.
After Chabagu succeeded Junju, Waseje, and Kamanya. This last king,
grandfather of the present monarch, is remembered for his victories over
the Wakedi, a most ferocious and warlike people occupying country north
of Usoga. The Wakedi, it is said, wore armour, and employed in their
wars an immense number of great dogs, as large as young lions. Besides,
the country of the Wakedi was surrounded by broad rivers or small
lakes,[23] and these several advantages had made the Wakedi rather
feared by the Waganda. But vexed by the repeated forays made by them
into the very heart of his country, and the impunity with which they
carried them, Kamanya determined to prosecute a war against them until
one side or the other should be declared beyond doubt the stronger. For
this purpose he assembled his chiefs, and, having stated the advantages
of situation which Ukedi enjoyed against attack, commanded them to
advise him as to the means and ways of conducting the campaign.
Stimulated by large rewards, the chiefs proposed various tactics for
retaliating upon the enemy; but it was the plan of the grandfather of
Sabadu the historian that was deemed the best. This person advised
Kamanya to command 100 canoes to proceed by water to Jinja, where they
might be taken to pieces and conveyed overland through Usoga to the
Nagombwa river,[24] whence, after reconstruction, they could proceed to
attack the Wakedi in the rear, while the king himself could proceed with
his army to Urondogani, along the western bank of the Victoria Nile, and
menace Ukedi from that side. This wise counsel was loudly applauded and
at once adopted, the charge of the canoes being given to Sabadu’s
grandfather himself.
The Wakedi, as might be imagined, attacked in such an unlooked-for
direction, were greatly surprised and discouraged. They fled for refuge
to their fenced villages, leaving their cattle in the hands of the
Waganda, who drove them across the Nagombwa to Usoga. The vengeance of
the Waganda not being yet complete, they proceeded to attack the Wakedi
in their fenced villages, using red-hot arrows wrapped in bark cloth, by
which the straw huts were set on fire, and the inhabitants driven out to
meet the spears of the Waganda.
Perceiving that the presence of Kamanya on the opposite bank of the Nile
was only a ruse, the Wakedi concentrated their forces to drive the
Waganda who had come by way of the Nagombwa out of the country. When the
two nations met, a desperate battle ensued, rather to the disadvantage
of the Waganda, for the enemy wore iron armour, which their spears could
not penetrate.
After consultation, it was decided by the Waganda that at the next
battle they would not waste their time in launching their spears, but
would rush on the foe with naked hands and capture and bind them.
Having received large reinforcements, the Waganda resumed the battle,
but instead of throwing their spears they simply defended their bodies
with their shields, and rushing on their encumbered adversaries, seized
and bound them with cords. Perceiving that affairs were becoming
desperate for them, the Wakedi mustered all their war-hounds, which,
while the Waganda were engaged with their masters, rushed upon them from
all sides, with their large mouths wide open, barking tremendously, and
bit and tore them in such a manner that the Waganda became stricken with
panic, and fled to their canoes. The hounds, with their fury unappeased,
rushed after the canoes into the water, where an immense number of them
were easily slaughtered by the Waganda, whose senses, it appears, were
by this time collected. Fearing that they would lose all their faithful
war-hounds, the Wakedi recalled their dogs, paid tribute, and
acknowledged the superiority and supremacy of the Waganda, and to this
day the Wakedi have been true to their allegiance.
As we arrive nearer our own times, the history of Uganda becomes,
of course, more precise and trustworthy. Thus, when we come to Suna
II., the son of Kamanya, and predecessor and father of Mtesa, we are
told that he was about sixteen years of age when he succeeded to his
father, and about forty when he died, and that he reigned, therefore,
twenty-four years. As Mtesa ascended the throne in his nineteenth year,
and as he has already reigned fifteen years (up to 1875), Suna must
have been born in 1820, begun to reign in 1836, and died in 1860.
Suna, so his intimate friends still alive told me, was short of stature
and of very compact build, most despotic and cruel, but brave and
warlike.
He had a peculiar habit, it is said, of sitting with his head bent low,
seldom looking up. His attitude seemed to be that of one intently
tracing designs on the ground, though in reality he was keenly alive to
all that was transpiring around him. He frequently beheaded his people
by hundreds. It is reported that one day he executed 800 people of
Uganda for a single crime committed. Other punishments which he
inflicted were dreadful, such as gouging out eyes, and slitting ears,
noses, and lips. It is said that he so seldom lifted his eyes from the
ground that whenever he did look up at a person, the executioners,
called “Lords of the Cord,” understood it as a sign of condemnation.
Any messenger arriving with news was compelled to crawl on his knees,
and in this position to whisper it into the king’s ears. Whenever he
passed along a path, the announcement, “Suna is coming,” sufficed to
send the people flying in a panic from the neighbourhood.
To strangers from other countries he was most liberal and hospitable,
and many Arab traders have had cause to bless the good fortune that
conducted them to Uganda in the days of Suna.
This Emperor, or _Kabaka_, as the rulers of Uganda, after their vast
conquest, were styled, was also exceedingly fond of dogs. For the
sustenance of one of his pets he caused an entire district to be
cultivated and planted with the sweet potato, which was its favourite
diet; and when it died, he caused each chief to contribute bark-cloths
for its burial.
He also kept a lion and a leopard, and another animal which, from its
description, I take to have been either a species of wolf or lynx; the
two former became quite tame, but the latter was so incorrigibly fierce
that he finally ordered it to be destroyed.
From such a disposition as that of Suna, it was natural that he should
engage in frequent wars, and from his determined and resolute character
we cannot be surprised to hear that they were most bloody and terrible.
He conquered Ankori, overran Unyoro and Usoga, and was the first to
conquer the united nations of Uzongora. The lion-hearted Wavuma owned
him as their liege lord; even distant Ruanda heard of his name, tried
him in battle, and became convinced of his greatness. The details of the
two last wars in which Suna was engaged I have collected, and present
them here, as told by Sabadu, from which the reader may perceive for
himself the character of this monarch and the general nature of wars in
Central Africa.
Suna heard that Usoga had rebelled and refused to pay tribute to him,
whereupon, after rendering homage and dues to the Muzimu, or
spirits,[25] he levied a vast army and marched to Jinja, or the rocks
overlooking the Ripon Falls, where he rested four days. The Wasoga, upon
Suna’s advance, fled to Kitenteh Island (situate in the channel between
Uvuma and Usoga, about seven miles from Nakaranga Cape). On this island
the Wasoga placed their women and children, and large herds of cattle,
and it was evident from the measures they adopted that they intended to
make a desperate and prolonged resistance.
After marching through Usoga, he camped on the mainland, about half a
mile from Kitenteh Island. The Wavuma, responding to his command to
muster their canoes for the war, supplied him with over 100, manned by
natives of Uziri, Wema, and Kibibi; Lulamba, Irwaji, and Sessé Islands
supplied him with 200; while from the Uganda coast he obtained 200 more;
so that, in all, Suna had 500 canoes for the war.
Usoga, an extensive country of itself, did its best to meet the monarch
of Uganda with a large and powerful fleet, and, assisted by its islands,
Namungi and Neygano; as also by Usuguru, Chaga, Muiwanda, and Ugana, was
able to match Suna’s fleet, canoe for canoe.
But the spirit which animated the warriors of the two nations differed
greatly. On the one side was the determination to win freedom; on the
other a monarch resolved to retain in subjection, but lacking people to
meet the Wasoga on the water, and only able to compel his warriors to
fight at all on that element by the most horrible threats and the
inspiration of terror.
Having assembled his fleet, Suna ordered the assault; but the Wasoga met
the Waganda in the channel, and after a desperate battle drove the
Waganda in precipitate retreat to the mainland. For the period of a
month repeated efforts were made to effect a landing on the island, but
the Wasoga, with great spirit and bravery, repelled the Waganda with
severe loss. The Wasoga also, adding insult to injury, were accustomed
to approach the mainland and taunt the king with bitter words, telling
him to seek the graves of Kaguru and Kamanya, and bury himself there for
very shame.[26] At length, enraged by these taunts, Suna called his
chiefs to him, and in assembly assailed them with bitter reproaches, and
asking them if he was not the Emperor, and if Emperor, why the Wasoga
were permitted to taunt him, and stung to frenzy by the memory of the
insults lately received, commanded his chiefs to man their canoes on the
morrow and assault the island, threatening them, if they failed, with
roasting, decapitation, and utter destruction.
The chiefs prostrated themselves one after another, and swore to set
their feet on Kitenteh Island the next day. The morrow came, and each
chief was in his canoe with his most chosen warriors. The battle ensued,
but only four chiefs were true to their promise—the Katekiro,
Namujurilwa (Majwara’s father[27]), and two others of equal bravery and
eminence. The Katekiro on landing killed two with his spear at one
thrust, so great was the throng of Wasoga who rushed against him.
Namujurilwa’s spear was plunged through three at a time, but unable to
draw his weapon out, he was attacked by a Msoga, who with his javelin
pinned both his arms, and he was only saved by a rush of his own men,
who bore him away to his canoe. The two other chiefs slew two men each,
and were obliged to retire, being unsupported by their people. Many
other chiefs distinguished themselves, and many died fighting in the
attempt to land on the island.
The Wasoga had formed themselves into four ranks on this day. The first
comprised the slingers, and the second the spearmen, the third, on
higher ground, slingers again, and the fourth a reserve of spearmen, for
the final and supreme struggle.
For three successive days the chiefs of Uganda led in person the Waganda
to the assault, until finally the queen’s father requested Suna not to
sacrifice all his chiefs while the peasants were standing idle
spectators. Suna yielded to his request, and perceiving that bravery was
of no avail against the desperate Wasoga, he adopted the plan of
surrounding the island day and night with his canoes, and starving the
rebels into submission. What food the unfortunate Wasoga were able to
obtain was inadequate for their wants, and cost them much trouble and
many lives, both on shore, in distant parts of the coast, and in the
channel, for Suna had constructed large camps along the coast of Usoga,
and his canoes kept strict watch and ward over Kitenteh Island.
For two months the Wasoga endured this state of things, but at the end
of that period, being reduced to the verge of absolute starvation, four
of their chiefs approached the camp of Suna with offers of submission.
Suna refused to see them, but gave them thirty head of cattle to convey
to the island, with a request to the chiefs to eat, and think well first
of what they offered, promising that, if on the fourth day they were
still of the same mind, he would be willing to talk with them.
At the end of the fourth day twenty chiefs came over from Kitenteh
Island, stating that they were willing to submit to Suna, to pay
tribute, and to render service. He received them graciously, and ordered
them to commence the next day, with the assistance of his own canoes,
the transportation of the Wasoga to his camp, in order that they might
all render their submission to him.
For three days, it is said, the Waganda and Wasoga canoes were engaged
in this service, and as fast as the Wasoga arrived they were conducted
to a large stockade erected expressly for them during the night of
the surrender. On the fourth day, his late enemies being all in his
camp, surrounded by his own people, he called their chiefs and told
them he would be gratified if they and their warriors would perform
their war-dance before him next day. Unsuspecting evil, they willingly
promised.
Suna after their departure to the stockade instructed the Waganda chiefs
to bring all their people, early next morning, each man supplied with a
cord, and to form them in two ranks four deep, and when he gave the
signal, to fall upon the Wasoga and bind them. On the morning of the
fifth day the Waganda were all drawn up as instructed, and the Wasoga,
seeing nothing in this but Suna’s desire of showing his power and pomp,
and without the least idea what this war-dance portended to them,
marched within the fatal lines, armed only with sticks, as had been
agreed—upon the cunning plea that the Waganda might take offence at
seeing them play with edged weapons before Suna. They were the more
completely thrown off their guard by the kindness shown to them by the
Emperor and by the liberal supplies of cattle and bananas supplied to
them since their surrender.
We can imagine how the unhappy Wasoga advanced smiling into Suna’s
presence on this great day, and how, wishing to please the fearful
despot, they danced to the best of their power. But on a sudden, while
they were exerting their voices (30,000 is the number given) into a
grand swelling chorus at the triumphal finale of the fictitious war
which they had been representing, Suna gave the signal, and 100,000
Waganda warriors fell upon them, and despite their fearful, desperate
struggles—when all too late the treachery of Suna became apparent—bound
them hand and foot.
Out of this immense number of prisoners, sixty of the principal chiefs
were selected and placed before Suna, who said to them:—“For three
months you have kept me and my people waiting for your submission; you
rebelled against my authority, and attempted to throw off your
allegiance; you have slain more than half of my principal chiefs, and
you have vexed me with taunts, telling me to go and seek the graves of
Kaguru and Kamanya, and to hide myself there for shame. You have mocked
me—me! who am called Suna—Suna, the Emperor (_Kabaka_). I go to my grave
by-and-by, but by the grave of my father Kamanya you shall die to-day,
and you may tell your fathers that Suna the Emperor sent you to them.”
Then turning to the Waganda, he fiercely shouted, “Cut them to little
pieces, and pile their remains on the plain without the camp.” As Suna
commanded, so was it done, and the Waganda were employed on this
monstrous work for five days, for they obeyed his command literally,
and, beginning at the legs and arms, hacked their victims to pieces
without taking the trouble to despatch them first.
Usoga, upon hearing of this terrible deed, sent all its principal men
and chiefs to implore pardon and proffer submission and allegiance,
which Suna was pleased to accept. This event closed the war, and Suna
returned to his palace in Uganda with a train of 5000 female captives
and 8000 children.
Soon after his return to Uganda the Wasoga rebelled a second time under
the leadership of Rura, chief of Nakaranga, upon hearing which Suna
smiled grimly and said, “Rura has taken much time to make up his mind;
since he has waited so long let him wait a little longer, and I will
show him who his master is.”
Meantime Namujurilwa, chief of Uddu, after returning to visit his home,
heard that his neighbour the king of Ankori or Usagara was preparing to
invade his country with a mighty force. Ever prompt for mischief and
war, Namujurilwa did not wait to meet the Wasagara on his own soil, but
beat his war-drum, and, mustering his followers, marched through Bwera
and penetrated into the very heart of Ankori, and there surprised his
enemies, assembled under five princes, in their own camp.
Namujurilwa fell upon them with a ferocity and vigour that the numerical
superiority of his enemies could not equal. For five hours the battle
lasted without intermission or advantage to either side, when
Namujurilwa was accidentally met by one of the princes of Ankori.
“Not dead yet, Namujurilwa?” cried the prince. “Wait a little for me,”
saying which he took a bow from one of his servants and shot an arrow
which hit the border of the tough double bull-hide shield which the
chief of Uddu generally carried.
Namujurilwa did not wait for a second arrow, but bounded forward, crying
out, “No, not dead yet, prince” (_Mlangira_), “and shall not die until I
have killed you,” and forthwith launched his dirk-pointed spear, which
pinned both the shield and body of the unfortunate youth.
Another prince coming up and observing his brother fall, shot an arrow,
and pierced the leopard-skin of the Uddu chief, who returned the
compliment with one of his long spears, which penetrated his body and
protruded far through his back. The death of these two princes decided
the battle, for the Wasagara became panic-stricken and fled, leaving a
vast spoil of cattle and effects in the conqueror’s hands.
Upon returning to Uddu from the war, the victorious chief sent 300
women, 600 children of both sexes, and 1000 head of cattle to the
Emperor Suna, as his share of the spoil, who on viewing the magnificent
gift said to his chiefs in assembly, “Truly, Namujurilwa is brave, there
is none like him in Uganda.”
Setuba, a great chief, holding under Suna an extensive tract of
country[28] bordering upon Unyoro, whispered to his neighbour, “H’m, you
hear how Suna praises Namujurilwa; let us go to Unyoro and show Suna
that he has other chiefs as brave as Namujurilwa.”
Requesting and obtaining leave of the Emperor to visit his own country,
Setuba soon left the capital, and after arriving at his chief village,
beat his war-drum and summoned his people to war.
Taking with him 300 head of cattle, he crossed the frontier of Unyora,
where he slew his cattle and made his followers eat beef to make
themselves strong. Having devoured the meat, his people informed Setuba
that they were now as strong as lions and all prepared for war.
Setuba smiled and said to them, “I have given you 300 head of my own
cattle; go and bring me 3000 head and I shall consider that you have
paid me for what you have eaten.”
The warriors responded to Setuba’s words with a shout, and at once set
out to collect spoil from the Wanyoro, while Setuba and a chosen band
remained in camp. The Waganda, however, were promptly met by the Wanyoro
in considerable numbers, and after a few hours were defeated and pursued
as far as Setuba’s camp.
The chief received the fugitives sternly and said, “Where are those
lions whom I lately fed with my cattle? Are you about to return to
Uganda with empty hands? Yes, go on, and as you fly proclaim that
Setuba, your chief, is dead.” Saying which Setuba seized his spears and
shield, and followed by his chosen band bounded out of his camp to meet
the advancing Wanyora.
Fired with indignation and shame, Setuba soon met the Wanyora, and began
flinging his spears with splendid effect. With his first spear he killed
three, with the second he slew two more. The fugitives, seeing the
vigour and courage of their chief, halted, and began to ask of one
another, “Who dares go and tell Suna that Setuba is dead? Let us fight
and die with Setuba.”
The word “Setuba, tuba, tuba!” became a war-cry, echoed fiercely far and
near, turning the fugitives on their pursuers, who in a short time
became the pursued. For two days the Waganda rioted in the blood of the
now terror-stricken Wanyora, who were finally compelled to fly to the
summit of the mountains for refuge, leaving their families and cattle in
the valleys to be swept away by the fierce Waganda.
On returning to Uganda Setuba sent 2000 women, 4000 children, and 2000
heads of cattle, besides goats and sheep without number, to the Emperor
as his share, and Setuba heard Suna declare proudly that he knew of no
monarch who could show heroes to equal Setuba and Namujurilwa, and that
his heart was big with pride.
There stood that day, when the Emperor publicly mentioned with praise
the names of Setuba and Namujurilwa, a young man listening to him, who
from that moment resolved to eclipse both chiefs. His name was
Kasindula, a sub-chief or Mtongoleh of the great Sekebobo’s country of
Chagwe, who had neither pride of birth nor riches to boast of. He was a
mere worthy young fellow, who had distinguished himself in a few
engagements under Sekebobo, for which the old chief had promoted him
from a peasant (_kopi_) to be a sub-chief (_mtongoleh_).
A few days after the great levee of Suna, Kasindula proceeded to
Sekebobo, and requested him to ask permission of the Emperor that he
should be allowed to rebuild his majesty’s camp at Jinja, as many of the
huts were in a most ruinous state, and many of Suna’s women were
compelled to sleep in the open air.
Sekebobo introduced Kasindula to the Emperor, and preferred his request
to him, who graciously acceded to it, adding that it was not every day
that men came to ask leave to do him a service: they generally asked him
for some gift or other.
Kasindula was profuse in his thanks, and then departed with 2000 men
from Sekebobo to assist him in the work of reconstructing the imperial
camp at Jinja, and the kind old chief also gave him several large
canoes, to transport the working force across Napoleon Channel.
The young chief lost no time after his arrival at Jinja, but
industriously set to work, and in a few days had entirely rebuilt the
houses, and surrounded them with their respective courts, and had
cleared the whole camp from much accumulated rubbish, until the camp
would have pleased even fastidious Suna himself.
He then caused the war-drum to be sounded, and, responding to its
ominous call, all who were capable of lifting the spear, dwelling in the
neighbourhood of Jinja, gathered round Kasindula, who said:—
“Warriors of Uganda and children of Suna, listen to me. You know how,
after Suna slew the rebellious Wasoga before Kitenteh Island, that the
chiefs of Usoga all came and swore allegiance to him; and how, when Suna
had returned to Uganda, the Wasoga chief Rura headed another rebellion,
and challenged Suna to return to Usoga to fight him. When Suna heard the
challenge of the boastful Rura, he only smiled, and said, ‘Let him wait
a little.’ Suna is too great to fight with Rura, for Kasindula, a
Mtongoleh of Sekebobo, is sufficient for him. To-night we march to
Nakaranga, and to-morrow morning before sunrise Rura shall sleep with
his brothers who died before Kitenteh. Warriors, prepare yourselves!”
Though Nakaranga was fully thirty miles from Jinja, Kasindula had
reached about midnight the principal village of the chief, and after
surrounding it with his people, fired the huts at daybreak, thus
expelling the sleeping Wasoga from them, to fall by the spears of the
ambushed Waganda. Having made clean work of all Rura’s district,
Kasindula gathered the spoil, and long before noon was far on his return
to Jinja.
The Usoga confederacy, hearing of this raid and of the death of Rura and
his sons, hurried to Nakaranga to avenge the slaughter, but they found
only black desolation and emptiness in Rura’s district, while the
raiders had escaped in safety to Jinja, whither they dared not follow
them, and accordingly returned, each chief to his own district.
After a few days’ rest Kasindula made another raid in a totally
different direction with similar results, and again the Wasoga hurried
up, only to find the houses all consumed, the warriors all dead, and the
women and children and cattle all deported away.
“What manner of man is this,” asked the astonished Wasoga of one
another, “who comes in the night, like a hyena, and vanishes with the
daylight, with his maw gorged with blood?” Consoling themselves,
however, with a vow to be revenged on him at a fitting opportunity, they
returned again to their own districts.
But hard upon their heels followed the wary and resolute Kasindula; and
again he destroyed an entire district, with all its males, and carried
the women and children into captivity. This news was too disheartening
to the Wasoga, for now they began to dread that they would be utterly
destroyed in detail, whereupon, perceiving that their principal chiefs
were all dead, they sent an embassy to Suna, with a tribute of the most
comely women and a large quantity of maramba, asking his forgiveness.
Kasindula, meanwhile, finding his hands full of spoil, collected all
together, and drove his captives and cattle, by forced marches, to Suna,
who, warned of his approach, prepared to receive him in state and in a
full assembly of the chiefs.
Having arranged the women and children by thousands before him, and
parked the cattle in full view of the Emperor, Kasindula, clad in a
humble and dingy bark cloth, prostrated himself before him and said:—
“Great Kabaka, I went to Jinja, and built your camp, and housed your
women as you commanded me; and hearing how Namujurilwa and Setuba had
avenged you on the Wasagara and Wanyoro, I thought myself strong enough
to answer the challenge sent by Rura and his friends to you.
“My dear lord, Namujurilwa and Setuba are great chiefs, and stand in
your presence daily, but I am only a Mtongoleh under Sekebobo. I have
neither farm nor house, wife nor child, and my only wealth consists of
my spear and my shield, and my only cloth is this rotten _mbugu_.
Namujurilwa and Setuba brought slaves and cattle by hundreds, but the
_kopi_ Kasindula brings his thousands to Suna. Behold where they stand!
Kasindula brings them all to Suna.” And putting his hands together, he
cried aloud, “Twiyanzi, yanzi, yanzi, yanzi!” with all the fervour of
one having received a bountiful gift.
The Emperor, upon inquiring the number of the spoil, was told that it
amounted to 7000 slaves, 2000 cows and oxen, 3000 goats, and 500 sheep;
upon which he said, “Kasindula has spoken truly; he has brought more
than either Namujurilwa or Setuba. In return, I make him now a chief of
the first rank, with land, cattle, and slaves of his own.” And Kasindula
was immediately invested with white cloths, and with all the honours,
privileges, and greatness of a _Mkungu_ of Uganda.
After this turbulent epoch there were some months of tranquillity, when
one day there came a challenge from Kytawa, the mighty king of Uzongora,
who had made an alliance with the kings Kyozza, Kamiru, and Rugomero,
and with Antari, king of Ihangiro, against Suna.
The Emperor sent the messenger of Kytawa back to him with a bullet and a
hoe, saying, “Give these to Kytawa; tell him to choose whether he will
take the bullet and have war, or whether he will keep the hoe and
cultivate his fields in peace; and bring his answer to me.”
Kytawa imagined himself and his allies strong enough to meet Suna
in war, and kept the bullet. When the messenger returned with this
answer, Suna commanded his Katekiro to make up 300 man-loads of hoes
and old iron and to send them to Kytawa, and to say to him, “Suna
sends these hoes and iron to you, for may be that you are short of
spears, arrow-heads, and hatchets. Make war weapons for your people in
abundance during three months, and prepare for war, for in the fourth
month you shall see me and my people in your country, and I shall eat
it up clean, and there shall nothing be left alive in it.”
This was the last war in which Suna was engaged. After three days’
desperate fighting the Wazongora and their allies were defeated, and
Kytawa and the confederate kings were compelled to fly for refuge to the
island of Kishakka, where they were besieged, until all the kings
implored forgiveness, and swore to become tributary to him.
Falling ill from small-pox, the Emperor accepted their oaths, and,
raising the siege, departed for Uganda. When he perceived that he was
about to die, he called his chiefs together and commanded them to make
Kajumba, his eldest son, his successor.
This Kajumba, the Prince Imperial, however, was no favourite with the
Waganda, for he appears to have been a violent, headstrong youth of
gigantic size and strength. These qualities recommended him strongly to
Suna, who thought that with such a successor Uganda would retain its
prestige and supremacy, and apprehended nothing of danger to his own
people in a person of such violent passions; and, indeed, it is to be
doubted whether, after exercising with the utmost licence his own
undisputed authority, he even thought them worthy of consideration.
Kajumba was Suna’s favourite, and the war-loving father on his death-bed
pointed out with pride to his chiefs the heroic qualities of the prince,
reminded them how when a mere boy he had slain a buffalo with a club and
an elephant with a single spear, and assured them with his latest breath
that Kajumba would become more renowned than either lion-like Kimera or
renowned Nakivingi.
After his father’s death Prince Kajumba seized his weighty spear and
ample shield and proclaimed himself his father’s successor and choice,
and announced his determination to uphold his dignity to the death. The
chiefs, however, fearing Kajumba’s violence, laid hands on him, and
bound him hand and foot, and selected the mild-spoken, large-eyed boy
Mtesa, and made him Emperor of Uganda by acclamation.
Suna was then buried with all the usual pomp attending such ceremonies
in Uganda; and the young Emperor, having paid all honour to his father’s
remains, and feeling himself firmly established in power, began to
reveal the true spirit which had been masked by the fair speech and
large eyes.
He soon found reasons for slaying all his brothers, and, having disposed
of them, turned upon the chiefs, who had elected him Emperor of Uganda,
and put them to death, saying that he would have no subject about him to
remind him that he owed his sovereignty to him.
According to his father’s custom, he butchered all who gave him offence,
and that lion in war, Namujurilwa, as also the Katekiro, he caused to be
beheaded. Frequently, when in a passion, he would take his spear in hand
and rush to his harem, and spear his women until his thirst for blood
was slaked.
It is probable that Mtesa was of this temper when Speke saw him, and
that he continued in it until he was converted by the Arab Muley bin
Salim into a fervid Muslim. After this, however, he became more humane,
abstained from the strong native beer which used to fire his blood, and
renounced the blood-shedding custom of his fathers.
Mtesa’s reign, like that of his predecessor, has been distinguished by
victories over many nations, such as the Wanyankori, Wanyoro, Wasui,
Wazongora, and Wasoga, and his Katekiro has carried his victorious flag
to Ruanda and to Usongora on the Muta Nzigé. He has likewise sent
embassies to the Khedive’s pasha of Gondokoro, to Sultans Majid and
Barghash of Zanzibar, and, having entertained most hospitably Captains
Speke and Grant, Colonel Long of the Egyptian army, myself, and M.
Linant de Bellefonds, is now desirous of becoming more intimate with
Europe, to introduce specie into his country, and to employ European
artisans to teach his people.
For the interesting facts of the preceding pages, the world is indebted
to the gossip Sabadu, for until his revelations, as herein recorded,
Uganda and a large portion of Equatorial Africa were (to use the words
of ancient Pistol) liked a closed oyster, but which now, with his aid,
we have partly opened, thus obtaining glimpses, however unsatisfactory,
into the origin, custom, and history of the country. An epic poem might
be written upon the legend of the search for the lost patriarch, or a
prose romance, for there is material enough for a great work in the tale
Sabadu told me.
If we begin to speculate as to who this Kintu, the blameless priest,
really was, and whether the legend does not bear some dim and vague
resemblance to the histories of Adam or Noah, handed down from
generation to generation through remote times among an unlettered
people, we may easily become lost in a maze of wild theories and
conjectures. There is, however, just as much ground for building such
suppositions, and to plausibly demonstrate them to be actualities and
facts, as there is for many other fables now generally accepted as
verities.
It is impossible, while reading the tale of Kintu, the Blameless Priest,
not to be reminded at one time of Adam, at another of Noah—for both Adam
and Noah found the earth void and uninhabited, as Kintu is said to have
found Uganda and the neighbouring lands. In the gigantic Kimera, “the
mighty hunter,” we remember Nimrod, and in the wicked children of the
patriarch can suspect a faint resemblance to the shameless Ham. The
prolific wife, and no less prolific cow, goat, sheep, and the wonderful
banana-plant, have their counterparts in the traditions of every people
under the sun. And do we not ourselves believe
“That all began
In Eden’s shade, and one created man”?
The ingenious mind can also find the prototype of the miraculously
flying Kibaga in the angel that destroyed the first-born of Egypt, or
that other who smote the host of Assyria; and Nakivingi, or Chabagu and
his mighty warrior Wakinguru, might stand for David and his champions,
and the final disappearance of Kintu may be taken to represent the end
of the age of miracles. But speculation on these points will only lead
one into wild and vain theories: and it is enough for the purposes of
this book to accept the tale of Kintu as a simple tradition of Central
Africa.
There is great reason to believe, however, that Kintu, if not a myth, is
a far more ancient personage than Mtesa’s list of kings would lead us to
suppose. At any rate, from other sources I have collected the names of
three kings of Uganda omitted by him. These are Semi-kokiro, Karago, and
Kimguvu.
That the reader may be able to estimate the duration of the Uganda
monarchy, I append in a tabular form the list of the kings, including
the names of the three kings not mentioned by Mtesa:—
The above forms a very respectable list of kings for a country in
Central Africa, and proves Uganda to be a monarchy of no mean antiquity,
if the number of names may be taken as any indication. Many names may
also have been forgotten—to be resuscitated perhaps by some future
traveller with the patience and time at command to rescue them from
oblivion.
-----
# 22:
Some of the Waganda believe, however, that Kintu, or Ham, as Mtesa now
believes him to be, was buried at Magonga; but I prefer to adhere to
the legend as it was related to me.
# 23:
I have been struck at the frequent geographical hints thrown out by
Sabadu.
# 24:
Another geographical hint, which has been verified by investigation. I
have no doubt the Nagombwa will turn out to be the Asua.
# 25:
I have observed that Sabadu’s narrative contains many interesting
ethnological facts. Perhaps the reader needs to be informed that I
stenographed Sabadu’s story as he related it to me before my camp fire
at Nakaranga.
# 26:
In almost exactly the same manner the Wavuma daily taunted Mtesa.
# 27:
Majwara is the little boy who alone watched the last hours of Dr.
Livingstone.
# 28:
Each Mkungu is invested with a barony or county upon attaining this
high rank, and with absolute authority over the people and their
effects, upon condition of rendering service to his sovereign whenever
required. The least dereliction of duty would entail a forfeiture of
lands, and often of life.
CHAPTER XV.
Life and manners in Uganda—The Peasant—The Chief—The Emperor—The Land.
To behold the full perfection of African manhood and beauty, one must
visit the regions of Equatorial Africa, where one can view the people
under the cool shade of plantains, and amid the luxuriant plenty which
those lands produce. The European traveller, after noting the great
length and wondrous greenness of the banana fronds, the vastness of
their stalks and the bulk and number of the fruit, the fatness of the
soil and its inexhaustible fertility, the perpetual springlike verdure
of the vegetation, and the dazzling sunshine, comes to notice that the
inhabitants are in fit accord with these scenes, and as perfect of their
kind as the bursting-ripe mellow bananas hanging above their heads.
Their very features seem to proclaim, “We live in a land of butter and
wine and fulness, milk and honey, fat meads and valleys.” The vigour of
the soil, which knows no Sabbath, appears to be infused into their
veins. Their beaming lustrous eyes—restless and quick glancing—seem to
have caught rays of the sun. Their bronze-coloured bodies, velvety
smooth and unctuous with butter, their swelling sinews, the tuberose
muscles of the flanks and arms, reveal the hot lusty life which animates
them.
Let me try to sketch one of these robust people, a Kopi or peasant of
Uganda, at home.
THE “KOPI” OR PEASANT.
Were it not for one thing, it might be said that the peasant of Uganda
realises the ideal happiness all men aspire after and would be glad to
enjoy. To see him in the imagination, you must discard from your mind
the inebriated, maudlin, filthy negro surrounded by fat wives and a
family of abdominous brats. He may be indolent if you please, but not so
indolent as to be unmindful of his own interests. For his gardens are
thriving, his plants are budding, and his fields are covered with grain.
His house has just been built and needs no repairs, and the fenced
courts round it are all in good condition.
Roll the curtain up and regard him and his surroundings!
He steps forth from his hut, a dark-brown-coloured man in the prime and
vigour of manhood, a cleanly, decent creature, dressed after the custom
of his country in a clay-coloured robe of bark cloth, knotted at the
shoulder and depending to his feet—apparently a contented, nay, an
extremely happy man, for a streak of sunshine having caught his face, we
have a better view of it and are assured it reflects a felicitous
contentment.
He saunters—while arranging his robe with due respect to decency—to his
usual seat near the gate of the outer court, above which a mighty banana
towers, shading it with its far-reaching fronds.
In the foreground, stretched before him, is his garden, which he views
with placid satisfaction. It is laid out in several plats, with curving
paths between. In it grow large sweet potatoes, yams, green peas, kidney
beans, some crawling over the ground, others clinging to supporters,
field beans, vetches and tomatoes. The garden is bordered by castor-oil,
manioc, coffee, and tobacco plants. On either side are small patches of
millets, sesamum, and sugar-cane. Behind the house and courts, and
enfolding them, are the more extensive banana and plantain plantations
and grain crops, which furnish his principal food, and from one of which
he manufactures his wine and from the other his potent pombé.
Interspersed among the bananas are the umbrageous fig-trees, from the
bark of which he manufactures his cloth. Beyond the plantations is an
extensive tract left for grazing, for the common use of his own and his
neighbours’ cattle and goats.
It is apparent that this man loves privacy and retirement, for he has
surrounded his own dwelling and the huts of his family—the cones of
which are just visible above—with courts enclosed by tall fences of
tough cane. While we leave the owner contemplating his garden, let us
step within and judge for ourselves of his mode of life.
Within the outer court we come to a small square hut, sacred to the
genius of the family, the household Muzimu. This genius, by the dues
paid to him, seems to be no very exacting or avaricious spirit, for the
simplest things, such as snail-shells, moulded balls of clay, certain
compounds of herbs, small bits of juniper wood, and a hartebeest horn
pointed with iron and stuck into the earth, suffice to propitiate him.
Proceeding from the outer court, we enter the inner one by a side
entrance, and the tall, conical hut, neatly constructed, with its broad
eaves overshadowing the curving doorway, which has a torus consisting of
faggots of cane running up and round it, stands revealed.
It is of ample circumference, and cosy. On first entering we find it is
rather dark, but as the eye becomes accustomed to the darkness, we begin
to distinguish objects. That which first arrests observation is the
multitude of poles with which the interior is crammed for the support of
the roof, until it resembles a gloomy den in the middle of a dense
forest. These poles, however, serve to guide the owner to his cane bunk,
but their number would confuse a nocturnal marauder or intruding
stranger. The rows of poles form, in fact, avenues by which the inmates
can guide themselves to any particular spot or object.
The hut, we observe also, is divided into two apartments, front and
rear, by a wall of straight canes, parted in the centre, through which
the peasant can survey—himself being unseen—any person entering.
In the rear apartment are bunks arranged round the walls for the use of
himself and family. Over the doorway of the hut within may be observed a
few charms, into whose care and power the peasant commits the
guardianship of his house and effects.
A scarcity of furniture is observable, and the utensils are few in
number and of poor quality. Under the former title may be classed a
couple of carved stools and a tray for native backgammon; under the
latter, some half-dozen earthenware pots and a few wicker and grass
basins. Some bark cloth, a few spears, a shield, a drum, a bill-hook or
two, a couple of hoes, some knobsticks and pipe stems, and a trough for
the manufacture of banana wine, complete the inventory of the household
effects.
Behind the peasant’s own dwelling are two huts of humbler pretensions,
also surrounded by courts, where we may behold the females of the family
at work. Some are busy kneading the bananas to extract their juice,
which, when fermented, is called _maramba_—delicious in flavour when
well made; others are sorting herbs for broth-food, medicines, or some
cunning charm; others, again, are laying out tobacco-leaves to dry,
whilst the most elderly are engaged in smoking from long-stemmed pipes,
retailing between the leisure-drawn draughts of smoke the experiences of
their lives.
Such is the kopi at home.
If the picture is not a faithful one of all his class, it may be
attributed to his own indolence, or to some calamity lately befallen
him. From it will be seen that the average native of Uganda has an
abundance and a variety of good food, that he is comfortably lodged, as
far as his wants require, is well and often married, and is secure from
enemies so far as a powerful sovereign and warlike multitudes can
command security. Still, there is one thing more that is necessary for
his happiness—protection from his sovereign.
THE “MKUNGU” OR CHIEF.
It might be supposed that, if a peasant’s lot appears so enviable in
that land, a Mkungu’s or chief’s of the first rank would be happier a
thousandfold. That such is not always the case will be seen from the
following sketch of the present Premier, or Katekiro, of Uganda, whose
name originally, now almost forgotten, was Magassa. It may be proper to
state here that all Waganda, from the Emperor to the peasant, change
their names according as they advance in popular estimation.
About the time that Mtesa succeeded his father and beheaded the senior
chiefs of Uganda, there was observed at the court a smart, clever,
cleanly looking lad, assiduous in his attendance on the monarch, and
attentive to his smallest wishes. He was the son of a Mtongoleh or
sub-chief, and his name was Magassa. To his other desirable qualities
might be added a fine set of white teeth, bright eyes, and general good
looks. Mtesa became enamoured of him, and made him guardian over the
imperial lavatory, an office of great trust in Uganda.
As Mtesa grew to man’s estate, Magassa the boy also became a young
man, for he was about the same age as his master, and, retaining
and improving those qualities which first attracted the monarch’s
eyes, was promoted in time to be a Mtongoleh of the body-guard, and
a double-barrelled gun was put into his hands, with the power of
gunpowder, and a few bullets and percussion caps, which caused the
heart of young Magassa to bound with joy. Perhaps he was even prouder
in the possession of a gun than he was of his rank, for frequently the
Mtongoleh of the body-guard has only the empty name to boast of.
However, being Mtongoleh (or colonel), he was liable to be despatched at
a moment’s notice to distant parts of the Empire on special service, and
the day came finally when Magassa was chosen.
Imagine a young British subaltern despatched by the Queen’s command,
specially chosen by the Queen for special service. How the young heart
palpitates, and the nerves tingle with delight! He spurns the ground,
and his head aspires to the stars! If a young British officer feels so
joyful at a constitutional sovereign’s choice, what must the elect of a
despotic autocrat like the Emperor of Uganda, feel?
No sooner has he left the imperial presence with the proud command
ringing in his ears than his head seems to swell, and almost burst from
delirious vertigo. His back, hitherto bent through long servile dread,
has suddenly become rigid and straight as the staff of his spear, and an
unusual sternness of face has somehow replaced the bland smiles which
hitherto decked it. For is he not “Kabaka” while on the Emperor’s
errand? Do not his soldiers respond to him when summoned with aweful
alacrity, saying, “‘Kabaka’ (Emperor), behold us”?
Woe to the party from whom offence came if young Magassa was sent with
his warriors to them! And woe to the warrior who committed any breach of
discipline when under Magassa’s command, or even to him who crossed his
humour when on the march on special service! Magassa’s spear was sharp
and swift, and his hands were at all times quick to gather spoil, and
soon it was observed that the poor Magassa was getting rich in slaves,
waxing great in name, and becoming exceedingly influential at court.
Promotions rewarded his adroitness and quick execution of commands,
lands of his own and bounties of slaves and cattle were bestowed upon
him, until Magassa became a Mkungu, or chief, of the second order.
Such a spirit as Magassa possessed, however, could not long remain
satisfied with this, while many above him could not boast of a tithe of
his deftness and ability, and were blind to observe and forestall the
humours of the despotic monarch; and a day came when a Mkungu of the
first order, named Pokino, offended Mtesa.
Casting his eyes about for a fit man to succeed him, Mtesa’s eyes
lighted on the sparkling, bright face of Magassa, and his decision was
at once made.
“Here, Magassa,” cried the Emperor, and the accomplished courtier fell
at his feet to the ground, to hear his command. “Haste, Magassa, take
men and eat up Pokino’s land and name, for old Pokino has forgotten me.”
“Twiyanzi, yanzi!” he cried and moaned, “Twiyanzi, yanzi, yanzi!” each
time more emphatic, and rubbing his cheeks in the dust; and then,
springing to his feet, he seized his spear, and, holding it aloft, as if
in the act of launching it, he proclaimed aloud, “By the Emperor’s
orders, I go to eat up Pokino. I will eat him clean out of land and
name, and Magassa shall become Pokino. Emperor behold me!” and again he
fell to the ground, screaming his thankful Twiyanzis, and loyally
abasing himself in the dust.
After the levee was over, Magassa, eager to change his name for
Pokino’s, beat his war-drum, unfolded his banner, and mustered his
followers, and, like the fell leopard, pounced upon purblind Pokino,
whom he quickly deprived of life, land, and name, and in place of their
former owner became their master. But with even old Pokino’s vast
estates and large possessions the young Pokino was apparently
discontented. Shortly afterwards the Emperor commanded him to “eat up”
Namujurilwa, the Achilles of Uganda, and it is owing to young Pokino’s
thirst for power and riches that Majwara, an infant son of that great
chief, became a slave to Njara of Unyanyembé, from whom I purchased his
freedom in 1871. I afterwards sent him to Livingstone, to whom young
Majwara ministered faithful service until that great traveller’s death.
With the fall of Namujurilwa, young Pokino became Lord of all Uddu, from
the Katonga valley to the Alexandra Nile, a district embracing over 3000
square miles, with twenty sub-chiefs recognizing him as their master,
possessing two great capitals, Namujurilwa’s at Masaka, and Pokino’s,
hundreds of women-slaves, and thousands of youthful slaves of both
sexes, with cattle also by the thousand, and chief of a population
numbering over 100,000. What a change this—from the keeper of the
lavatory to the Lord of Uddu!
Pokino’s life at his capital of Uddu, Masaka, is almost regal. He has
“eaten up” the lands of two great chiefs, old Pokino and the lion-like
Namujurilwa, and now out of the eater cometh forth meat, and out of the
strong cometh forth sweetness. His sub-regal court is crowded with
applicants and claimants for bounties, and slaves requiring to be fed,
and good offices are given with a liberal hand, and cattle are
slaughtered by hundreds, until Pokino’s open hand and large heart is
published throughout Uganda. By this politic liberality he secures the
affection of the natives of Uddu, the friendship of the great chiefs at
the court, and the approbation of the Emperor.
Is Pokino satisfied? Not yet, for there remains one more office which
Mtesa can give; but he must wait awhile for this.
The Emperor hears there is a country called Usongora, west of
Gambaragara[29] somewhere, rich in vast herds of cattle, and he commands
Pokino to go and gather some of them. Immediately the great war-drum of
Masaka sounds the call to war, and the natives from the banks of the
Alexandra Nile, the slopes of Koki plateau, and all the lake shore from
the Alexandra to the Katonga respond to it by thousands, for it is a
call to them to gather spoil, and when did a peasant of Uganda linger at
such a summons?
When Pokino begins his journey, he discovers he has a vast army at his
command, for other chiefs also are represented here by columns. Kitunzi
of the Katonga valley has sent Sambuzi, and Mkwenda, Kangau, and
Kimbugwé have also sent sub-chiefs with hundreds of warriors. Before
Pokino’s great army the people of Gambaragara retire up the slopes of
their lofty snow mountain, and, pursuing them as far as prudence will
permit, Pokino’s eyes view from afar the rolling grassy plateau of
Usongora, and an immense lake stretching beyond, which he is told is
Muta Nzigé.
Descending from the slopes of the snow mountain, he marches with
incredible speed to Usongora, sweeps in with long sure arms large herds
of cattle, despite the frantically brave natives, collects thousands of
straight-nosed, thin-lipped, and comely women and children, and drives
them towards Uganda.
Several difficulties present themselves in the way. The plain of
Usongora is covered with salt and alkali, which, intemperately eaten,
causes many deaths; and in the valleys sprout up mud-springs, and from
the summits of conical hills strange fire and smoke issue, and now and
then the very earth utters a rumbling sound, and appears to shake.
The Wanyoro, also, by thousands, combine with the natives of Gambaragara
to dispute his return. They lay ambuscades for him, and obstinately
harass him night and day. But Pokino’s spirit is up in arms. He defies
the supernatural noises of that Land of Wonders, Usongora, and by skill
and sagacity avoids the meshes laid to entrap him, and, when opportunity
affords, snares his ambushed enemies and annihilates them, and finally
appears in Uganda at the imperial capital with a spoil of cattle and
slaves fit to gladden even the imperial heart.
The Emperor appoints a day to receive him and his warriors, and, that
meed may be given only to the brave, has caused to be brewed immense
potfuls of potent pombé, which shall serve as a test to point out the
brave and the coward.
The day arrives. The Emperor is seated in unusual state, with his harem
behind him, his chiefs on either hand in order of rank, his musketeers
on guard, and his drummers and musicians close by, while aloft wave the
crimson-and-white-barred standards adopted by the empire. Before the
Emperor are arranged the pots of test-beer.
Pokino advances, prostrates himself in the dust, and begins to relate
his adventures and his doings in Usongora, while the heroes of the great
raid are enmassed in view and within hearing of his words.
After the conclusion of the story, the Emperor says briefly, “Drink, if
thou darest.”
Pokino rises, advances to the test-pots, receives the ladle, and dips it
into the pombé; then taking it up, he holds it aloft, and, turning to
the warriors who followed him, cries aloud, “Tekeh?” (“Am I worthy or
not?”)
“Tekeh!” (“Thou art worthy!”) responds the multitude with a shout.
Again he asks “Tekeh?” and again “Tekeh!” is shouted with renewed
acclamation, and, being found worthy, he drinks, utters his grateful
Twiyanzis to the Emperor, and retires to permit others to advance and
drink the test-beer. Those found worthy are rewarded, those unworthy are
doomed to death by popular condemnation.
Soon after this, Myanja, the Katekiro, was found guilty of the
overweening pride of appropriating to himself the most beautiful of the
female slaves without regarding his master’s right to select his
allotment first, and the result of this was that Myanja was disgraced
and shortly beheaded.
The Premier’s place being now vacant, Pokino was appointed to fill it;
and thus was the once humble Magassa elevated to be next in power to the
Emperor, with the utmost of his ambition fulfilled.
He is now daily seated on the carpet at the right hand of his sovereign,
controls all things, commands all men, and, when leaving the presence of
his master, he is escorted by all the chiefs to his own quarters,
waylaid by multitudes on the road with profound greeting, has the pick
of all females captured in war, the choicest of all cattle, and his
shares of all cloths, beads, wine, and other gifts brought to Mtesa; for
the Katekiro, alias Pokino, alias Magassa, is now Premier, First Lord,
and Secretary of State! But what next?
One day, while on a visit to my quarters, I permitted him to examine my
store of medicines. On explaining the various uses of laudanum, he
remarked, to my surprise, with a sigh, “Ah! that is the medicine I wish
to have. Can you not spare some for me?”
Poor Magassa! poor Pokino! poor Katekiro! He is already watching, while
yet young, in the prime and vigour of manhood, for he knoweth not the
hour when the Lord of the Cord may beckon to him.
It is left for some future traveller to tell us of his interview with
Kasuju, the chief executioner.
The curtain rolls up, and discloses a hill covered with tall conical
huts, whose tops peep out above the foliage of plantains and bananas,
and lofty fences of cane. Up the hill’s gradually ascending slopes run
broad smooth avenues, flanked by cane palisades, behind which clusters
of huts show grey under a blazing sun, amid the verdure of the leafy
groves around them. The avenues are thronged by natives, clad in
picturesque costumes. White clothes gleam in the sunshine, in strong
contrast to red and brown. The people are wending their way to the
imperial quarters on the summit of the hill. While no ingress is
permitted, they crowd around the gates in social gossip, exchanging
morning greetings.
[Illustration: AUDIENCE HALL OF THE PALACE.]]
Suddenly the murmur of voices ceases, and the long rumbling roll of a
kettle-drum is heard, announcing that the monarch is seated on the
burzah. The gates are at once drawn aside, and a multitude of chiefs,
soldiers, peasants, strangers rush up tumultuously, through eight or ten
courts, towards the audience-hall, and in their noisy haste we may see
the first symptoms of that fawning servility characteristic of those who
serve despots.
The next scene we have is a section of a straw house, with a gable-roof—
about 25 feet high, 60 feet long, and 18 feet in breadth.
At the farther end, by the light afforded by the wide entrance, we
perceive the figure of a man clad in an embroidered scarlet jacket and
white skirt seated on a chair, guarded on either side by a couple of
spearmen and two men bearing muskets. The chiefs and principal men now
hastening through the gates bow profoundly before him; some, after the
Muslim’s custom, kiss the palms and back of his right hand; others,
adhering to the original customs of the country, prostrate themselves to
the ground, and, throwing their hands towards him, exclaim, while
kneeling, “Twiyanzi, yanzi!” after which they severally betake
themselves to their respective seats in order of rank. Two long rows of
seated men are thus formed along the caned walls of the hall of
audience, facing towards the centre, which is left vacant for the advent
of strangers and claimants, and the transaction of business, justice,
&c.
Being privileged, we also enter, and take a seat on the right-hand side,
near the Katekiro, whence we can scrutinize the monarch at our leisure.
The features, smooth, polished, and without a wrinkle, are of a young
man, who might be of any age between twenty-five and thirty-five. His
head is clean-shaven and covered with a fez, his feet are bare and rest
on a leopard-skin, on the edge of which rests a polished white tusk of
ivory, and near this are a pair of crimson Turkish slippers. The long
fingers of his right hand grasp a gold-hilted Arab scimitar; the left is
extended over his left knee, reminding one of the posture of Rameses at
Thebes. The only natural peculiarities of the face, causing it to differ
from other faces around me, are the glowing, restless large eyes, which
seem to take in everything at a glance. The character of the face,
however, is seen to change rapidly; even in repose it lacks neither
dignity nor power, but as cross thoughts flash through his mind the
corners of the lips are drawn in, the eyes expand, the eyeballs project,
his hands twitch nervously, and the native courtier begins to apprehend
a volcanic outburst of rage. If pleased, however, the eyes appear to
recede and contract, the lips relax their vigour, and soon a hearty
laugh rings through the hall.
But hush! here advance some ten or twelve people along the centre, and
prostrate themselves before the Emperor, and begin through a spokesman
to tell him of something to which, strangely enough, he does not seem to
listen.
By means of an interpreter we are informed that it is an embassy from
the lawless bandit Mirambo, who, hearing that Mtesa was likely enough to
send some 50,000 sharp spears to hunt him up, has sent these men with
propitiating gifts, and a humble declaration that he has no cause of
quarrel with Uganda. The gifts are unrolled to view and counted. So many
cloths, so much wire, some half-dozen dinner plates of European make, an
ample brass coffee tray, an Arab dagger silver-hilted, and a scarlet
coat.
Mtesa has been meanwhile carelessly talking to his chiefs while the
embassy addressed him, but suddenly he turns on the embassy his large
glowing eyes, and speaks quickly and with decision:—
“Tell Mirambo from me that I do not want his gifts, but I must have the
head of his man who slew my chief Singiri a year ago, as he was
returning from Zanzibar to Uganda, or I will hunt him up with more
Waganda than there are trees in his country. Go!”
Another party now comes up. A chief is dead, and they wish to know who
shall succeed him, and they have brought his sons along with them, that
the Emperor may make his choice.
Mtesa smiles and asks his chiefs to name the successor. One names
Bugomba, another Taniziwa, another Kaseje, another Sempa. The chiefs
fail to agree, and Mtesa asks playfully, “Which shall be chief?”
whereupon the majority name Taniziwa as elected, after which we have to
hear the “Twiyanzis” of the favoured one, and his ardent vows of
allegiance to the Emperor.
Just at this moment appears a long procession of females, old and young,
at the sight of whom the Emperor rises to his feet, and his example is
followed by all. Curious to know who they are, we ask, and are told that
they are descendants of Kamanya and Suna, wards and members of the
imperial family. These ladies, it appears, know when to time their
visits, and contrive to enter the levee late, as European ladies, to
attract attention, are supposed to enter church late.
As these ladies advance to the carpet, Mtesa greets each with a kind
word, and after they are seated proceeds to them, seats himself in their
laps, and embraces one after another. In return for these imperial
courtesies, they afterwards present him with live fowls, which he is
compelled to receive with his own hands, and pass over to a chief to
hold, that he may not appear to despise any of them. Surely if such a
despotic monarch can condescend to be so affable and kind to females,
there must be some good in him.
But the Emperor on this morning has caught a cold, and the watchful
chiefs have been observing the little uneasiness, and forthwith
half-a-dozen rush forward prone on their knees, and offer their
head-cloths, into which the imperial nose may relieve itself.
The Emperor playfully draws back in his chair, and says, “Oh, I don’t
want all these.”
“Well, take mine,” says one.
“No, take mine, Kabaka; mine is white, and of fine soft cloth;” and
Mtesa, prevailed upon by the whiteness and softness of the texture,
takes it, and relieves his afflicted nose, and then hands the cloth back
to its owner, who rubs it together hard, as though he wished to punish
well the cause of the affliction.
Suddenly from some place in the hall is heard a hawking sound, as from
some one likewise afflicted with a cold in the throat, and the eyes of
the Emperor are quickly fixed on the person; but the chiefs cry out
indignantly, “Out, out with you, quick!” and, peremptorily and sternly,
half-a-dozen “lords of the cord” seize upon the unfortunate and eject
him in no gentle manner.
After this interruption the tones of the native harp are heard, and the
Emperor calls to the minstrel and bids him play on his instrument, which
the accomplished musician is nothing loth to do. But while we listen to
the monotonous music, all are startled at the loud report of a gun!
A dozen ejaculations are uttered, and as many chiefs rush out to enquire
the cause; but they have been forestalled by the adroit and eager lords
of the cord, who have thrown their nooses round the man’s neck and, half
strangling him, drag him into the Presence, whose imperial nerves have
been somewhat disturbed by the sudden discharge of gunpowder. The lords
of the cord, kneeling, say that the man let his gun fall while on guard,
and their eyes seem to ask, “What shall we do to him?” “Give him fifty
blows with a stick,” cries the angry Emperor, and the unfortunate fellow
is hauled away to receive such a punishment as will lame him for a
month.
There is now heard a lowing of cattle, of fat beeves and milch-cows, in
the court before the audience-hall, and a man advances, and after
prostration and “Twiyanzis” says he has brought a present from
Mankorongo, king of Usui.
“H’m. See to them, Katekiro, and give one to my steward Ka-uta to
dress up, and let each chief have an ox to-day, and give ten to my
bodyguard.” At this liberality all the chiefs rush forward, abase
themselves in the dust, and cry aloud their fervid “Twiyanzis.”
The chiefs resume their seats after this exhibition of their gratitude,
and a messenger arrives from the banks of the Victoria Nile, and
relates, to the monarch’s surprise, that Namionju, a petty prince near
Unyoro, has cast off his allegiance to him, and opened negotiations with
Kabba Rega, king of Unyoro.
On hearing the messenger’s news, the Emperor exclaims, his eyes
expanding widely, and projecting, “What! are all my people dead at
Nakaranga? Have I no chief, no people left, that Namionju treats me so?”
The answer is heard in the voices of the chiefs, who spring to
their feet simultaneously and rush out before the entrance of the
audience-hall, seize their spears or walking-sticks, and call aloud on
the Emperor to behold and number his chiefs, and with wild impressive
gestures toss their spears and arms on high until a stranger would
fancy that a revolution had suddenly begun. The Emperor, however,
calmly answers, “It is well,” upon which the chiefs leave their spears
without and regain their seats.
Then casting his eyes about him, he selects a fiery-looking young chief—
Maoor-ugungu by name—who instantly darts forward from his seat, and
prostrating himself exclaims, “_Kabaka_, I am here.”
“Go, Maoor-ugungu, take five Watongoleh and their men, and eat up
Namionju and his country.”
Maoor-ugungu, prompt as tinder upon receiving such an order, utters many
“Twiyanzis,” then springs to his feet, and, seizing a couple of spears
and a shield, throws himself into a heroic attitude with all the ardour
of a true son of Mars, and cries aloud:—
“Emperor, behold me! The Emperor commands, and Namionju shall
die, and I will gather the spoil. I will eat the land up clean.
Twiyanzi-yanzi-yanzi-yanzi!” and so on _ad infinitum_.
The Emperor rises. Tori the drummer beats the long roll on his drum, and
all the chiefs, courtiers, pages, claimants, messengers and strangers,
start to their feet. The Emperor—without a word more—retires by a side
door into the inner apartments, and the morning burzah is ended.
Those curious to know further of the Emperor’s life must pass through a
multitude of sharp-eyed, watchful guards, pages, and executioners,
thronging the court of the audience-hall, into the private courts, many
of which they will find apparently of no use whatever except to ensure
privacy, and to confuse a stranger.
In one they may see Mtesa drilling his Amazons and playing at soldiers
with his pets. They are all comely and brown, with fine virginal bosoms.
But what strikes us most is the effect of discipline. Those timid and
watchful eyes which they cast upon the monarch to discover his least
wish prove that, though they may be devoted to him, it is evident that
they have witnessed other scenes than those of love.
In another court, perhaps, they may find Mtesa just sitting down to eat
a slight noon meal, consisting of ripe bananas and curded milk; or they
may find him laughing and chatting with his favourite wives and female
children, who all sit around him, seeming to govern their faces
according to the despot’s humour; or perhaps he may happen to be found
with a favourite page examining the contents of the treasure-house,
where the gifts of various travellers, European, Turkish, and Arabic,
are stored; or he may be engaged with Tori, his factotum, planning some
novelty, in the shape of a waggon, carriage, ship, or boat, or whatever
the new fancy may be which has taken possession of his mind.
THE LAND.
Having learned somewhat through these sketches of the character of the
peasant, the chief, and the monarch, it now remains for us to take a
view of the land in order to understand its extent, nature, and general
aspect.
The form of the Empire governed by Mtesa may be best described as a
crescent. Its length is about 300 geographical miles, and its breadth
about 60, covering—with the islands of Sessé, Lulamba, Bufwe, Sadzi,
Lulamha, Damba, Lukomeh, Iramba, Irwaji, Kiwa, Wema, Kibibi, Uziri,
Wanzi, Uruma, Utamba, Mwama, Ugeyeya, Usamu, and Namungi—an area of
30,000 square miles. If we reckon in also Unyoro, Ukedi, and Ankori,
which recognize Mtesa’s power, and pay tribute to him, though somewhat
irregularly, we must add a further area of 40,000 square miles, making
the total extent of his empire about 70,000 square miles.
Some estimate of the population ought also to be offered. But it is to
be understood that it is only a rough estimate, made by a traveller who
has had to compile his figures by merely taking into consideration the
number of the army assembled at Nakaranga, and enumerating districts and
villages alone; the line of his travels.
Countries and Districts. Population.
Uganda proper (from Ripon Falls) to Katonga river 750,000
Uddu 100,000
Bwera 30,000
Koki 70,000
Usoga 500,000
Ukedi 150,000
Unyoro 500,000
Usagara or Ankori 200,000
Karagwé 150,000
Usui 80,000
Uzongora, including Ihangiro and Bumbireh 200,000
Sessé Island 20,000
Uvuma 15,000
All other islands 10,000
—————
2,775,000
=========
This number gives about thirty-eight persons to the square mile
throughout the empire of Uganda.
The productions of the land are of great variety, and, if brought
within reach of Europeans, would find a ready market—ivory, coffee,
gums, resins, myrrh, lion, leopard, otter, and goat[30] skins,
ox-hides, snow-white monkey-skins, and bark cloth, besides fine cattle,
sheep, and goats. Among the chief vegetable productions are the papaw,
banana, plantain, yams, sweet potatoes, peas, several kinds of beans,
melons, cucumbers, vegetable marrow, manioc, and tomatoes. Of grains,
there are to be found in the neighbourhood of the capital wheat, rice,
maize, sesamum, millets, and vetches.
The soil of the lake coast region from the extremity of Usogo to the
Alexandra Nile is of inexhaustible fertility. The forests are tall and
dense, and the teak and cottonwood, tamarind, and some of the gum trees
grow to an extraordinary height, while many of the lower uninhabited
parts near the lake are remarkable for the density, luxuriance, and
variety of their vegetation.
The higher land, for the most part devoid of trees and covered with
grass, appears better adapted for pasture, though the plantain and fig
trees flourish on the summit of the hills with the same vigour as near
the lake.
Westward of the smooth, rolling, pastoral country which characterizes
the interior of Usoga and Uganda, we observe that the land has lost its
surface of pasture grass, and its gently undulating character, and
heaves itself upwards into many-headed hills of rugged, abrupt forms,
and as we penetrate farther, these hills become mountains of a
stupendous type, with summits which, except on a fine clear day, the
naked eye cannot define. Deep, deep valleys, from whose depths we hear
the roar of resounding cataracts and falls, sunder these lofty
mountains. Upon their lengthy slopes great masses of glistening white
rock are seen half embedded in débris, where they have remained since
they were severed from the parent mountain which raises its head so
proudly into the sky above.
Beyond this scene again we come to where the land appears to have
concentrated itself, and fused all lesser mountains and hills into one
grand enormous mass, the height and size of which dwarfs all hitherto
seen, and which, disdaining vulgar observation, shrouds its head with
snow and grey clouds.
Indeed, so gradual is the transition and change in the aspect of
the land from Lake Victoria to Beatrice Gulf that one may draw this
one-hundred-miles-wide belt into five divisions of equal breadth,
and class them according to the limits given above. Let us imagine
a railway constructed to run from one lake to the other—what scenes
unrivalled for soft beauty, luxuriance, fertility, and sublimity would
be traversed!
Starting from the sea-like expanse of the Victoria Lake, the traveller
would be ushered into the depths of a tall forest, whose meeting tops
create eternal night, into leafy abysms, where the gigantic sycamore,
towering mvulé, and branchy gum strive with one another for room, under
whose shade wrestle with equal ardour for mastery the less ambitious
trees, bushes, plants, llianes, creepers, and palms. Out of this he
would emerge into broad day, with its dazzling sunshine, and view an
open rolling country, smooth rounded hills, truncated cones, and bits of
square-browed plateaus, intersected by broad grassy meads and valleys
thickly dotted with ant-hills overgrown with brushwood. Few trees are
visible, and these, most likely, the candelabra or the tamarisk, with a
sprinkling of acacia. As some obstructing cone would be passed, he would
obtain glimpses of wide prospects of hill, valley, mead, and plain, easy
swells and hollows, grassy basins, and grassy eminences, the whole
suffused with fervid vapour.
These scenes passed, he would find himself surrounded by savage hills,
where he would view the primitive rock in huge, bare, round-backed
masses of a greyish-blue colour, imparted to them by moss and lichens,
or large fragments flung together as in some Cyclopean cairn, sundered
and riven by warring elements. At their base lie, thickly strewn, the
débris of quartz-veined gneiss and granite and iron-coloured rock, half
choking the passage of some petty stream, which vents its petulance, as
it struggles through it to gain the clear, disencumbered valley, and the
placid river, guarded by banks of slender cane and papyrus.
And then the traveller would observe that the valleys are gradually
deepening, and the hills increasing in height until suddenly he
would be ushered into the presence of that king of mountains, Mount
Gordon-Bennett, which towers sheer up to the azure with a white veil
about his crown, surrounded by clusters of savage heights and ridges,
and before whose indisputable sublimity his soul seems to shrink.
Escaping from the vicinity of this mountain monarch, he would be swept
over a brown parched plateau for a short hour, and then, all suddenly,
come to a pause at the edge of an awful precipice some 1500 feet in
depth. At the bottom of this, slumbering serenely, and reflecting the
plateau walls on its placid surface, lies the blue Muta Nzigé.
GENERAL REMARKS.
I have still to add some details of interest. Mtesa, in the preceding
introduction to the reader, playing the part of Emperor at a public
burzah, has still only a vague and indistinct personality, and so, to
complete the portrait, I venture to append the following remarks.
On first acquaintance, as I have already said, he strikes the traveller
as a most fascinating and a peculiarly amiable man, and should the
traveller ever think of saving this pagan continent from the purgatory
of heathendom, the Emperor must occur to him as of all men in Africa the
most promising to begin with. For his intelligence and natural faculties
are of a very high order, his professions of love to white men great,
and his hospitality apparently boundless. Had he been educated in
Europe, there can be little doubt but that he would have become a worthy
member of society; but nursed in the lap of paganism, and graduate only
in superstition and ignorance, he is to-day no more than an
extraordinary African.
Flattering as it may be to me to have had the honour of converting the
pagan Emperor of Uganda to Christianity, I cannot hide from myself the
fact that the conversion is only nominal, and that, to continue the good
work in earnest, a patient, assiduous, and zealous missionary is
required. A few months’ talk about Christ and His blessed work on earth,
though sufficiently attractive to Mtesa, is not enough to eradicate the
evils which thirty-five years of brutal, sensuous indulgence have
stamped on the mind: this only the unflagging zeal, the untiring
devotion to duty, and the paternal watchfulness of a sincerely pious
pastor can effect. And it is because I am conscious of the insufficiency
of my work, and his strong evil propensities, that I have not hesitated
to describe the real character of my “convert.” The grand redeeming
feature of Mtesa, though founded only on self-interest, is his
admiration for white men.
When the traveller first enters Uganda, his path seems to be strewn with
flowers, greetings with welcome gifts follow one another rapidly, pages
and courtiers kneel before him, and the least wish is immediately
gratified, for to make a request of the Emperor is to honour him with
the power of giving. So long as the stranger is a novelty, and his
capacities or worth have not yet been sounded, his life in Uganda seems
to be a sunshiny holiday.
Meanwhile, however, the pages, pursuivants, messengers, and courtiers
have been measuring him by rules and methods of their own. His faculties
have been calculated, his abilities keenly observed and noted, and his
general utility and value become accurately gauged, and all the time he
has been entertained royally, and courted and favoured beyond all his
expectations.
But now approaches the time for him to make return, to fulfil the
promise tacitly conveyed by his ready and friendly acceptance of gifts
and favours. He is surprised by being asked if he can make gunpowder,
manufacture a gun, cast a cannon, build a ship, or construct a stone or
a brick house. If a priest ordained, and his garb and meek, quiet
behaviour prove it, his work is ready cut for him; he has only to teach
and preach. But if a soldier, why should he not know how to make guns,
cannon, ships, brick houses, &c.? If he informs the Emperor that he is
ignorant of these things, why then he must pay in other coin. He has
guns with him, he must “give”; he has watches, “give”; he has various
trifles of value, such as a gold pencil-case, or a ring, “give”; he
wears good clothes, “give”; he has beads, cloth, wire, “Give, give,
give”; and so “give” to his utter beggary and poverty. If he does not
give with the liberality of a “Speki” or a “Stamlee,” who will
henceforth be quoted to his confusion and shame, there will be found
other ways to rid him of his superfluities. His men will be found
unfaithful, and will desert, attracted by the rewards of Mtesa and
glowing descriptions of his liberality, and one day, when he is about to
congratulate himself that he is more fortunate than others, he will find
himself suddenly bereft of half or three-fourths of his entire stock of
goods. If the traveller states that he is acquainted with a few arts, he
is expected to prove his words to the loss of his time and patience, and
the waste of many precious months; even then what little he has been
able to do with such lazy knaves as the Waganda will prove insufficient,
and he also, by craft, will be relieved of a few guns and bales.
From these exactions only the resident missionary would be exempt,
because he will be able to make ample amends for all deficiencies by
staying to teach and preach, and he in time would, in reality, be the
Emperor. To him Mtesa would bend with all the docility of a submissive
child, and look up with reverence and affection. The peculiar wayward,
petulant, inconsistent nature would become moulded anew, or be re-born,
to be presented henceforth to European travellers in an amiable, nay
loveable, aspect. Mtesa is the most interesting man in Africa, and one
well worthy of our largest sympathies; and I repeat that through him
only can Central Africa be Christianized and civilized.
It will be observed that I have styled Mtesa “Emperor” of Uganda, and
not king, like my predecessors Speke and Grant. But my readers may
remember that it has been mentioned in the brief sketch of the Premier
given above that all the Waganda, from the Emperor to the peasant,
change their titles and names according as they are estimated in the
popular consideration.
Before Suna’s death Mtesa was a Mlangira (prince); when he succeeded his
father, being yet young, he received the title of Mukavya or Mkavya
(king) of Uganda, but after he had distinguished himself in the conquest
of other kings, and won the imperial right, this title was changed for
Kabaka or Kawaka (Emperor). For the Empire of Uganda, as already
described, embraces several countries besides Uganda proper.
I was not aware of these several distinctions or grades until I had been
a long time resident at the court. The title of Mkama, again, such as
that of Mkama Rumanika of Karagwé, Mkama Mankorongo of Usui, is
synonymous with viceroy or sub-king, though literally translated it
means “lord.” Polite courtiers prone on the ground, abasing themselves
in the dust before Mtesa, will often address him as “Mkama ange” (my own
lord).
The children of Mtesa are all styled Ulangira (princes). Below this
title there seems to be no other designation of hereditary condition
save Kopi (peasant). Wakungu and Watongoleh alike are peasants born, and
therefore still peasants, though they may rank as chiefs and sub-chiefs,
or governors and lieutenant-governors, or generals and colonels. Thus
Mtesa at Nakaranga, when he was pleased to promise to reward him who
first landed at Ingira Island with the place of Katekiro, asked the
assembled chiefs, “For what is Pokino really? Is he not a peasant?”
The moral character of the people is far below that of the Emperor.
Indeed, if it were not for him, no stranger would dare to enter Uganda.
They have no respect for human life or human rights. Among themselves
they recognise only might, and Mtesa might even be pardoned for
exercising greater severity than he does, for this fierce people
requires to be governed with the almost unexampled severity of might and
power which Suna so cruelly employed. They are crafty, fraudful,
deceiving, lying, thievish knaves, taken as a whole, and seem to be born
with an uncontrollable love of gaining wealth by robbery, violence, and
murder, in which they resemble—except that they have the lawless
instinct to a greater degree than most—nearly all African tribes. Owing,
however, to their terror of punishment, the stranger is permitted to
wander in almost certain safety throughout Uganda, and is hospitably
treated as the “Emperor’s guest” (Mgeni). One has only to hear the word
“Nganya” (spoil) given by a person in authority to be surprised at the
greed there and then exhibited.
The adage has long been accepted for true, “Like father like son,” and
equally true would be the saying, “Like king like people.” The conduct
of the chiefs proves that in Uganda at least it is true, for, like the
Emperor, they adopt a despotic style, and require to be served by their
inferiors with abject servility and promptitude. Like him, also, the
chiefs are fond of pomp and display, and, as far as their rank and means
permit, they exhibit this vanity to the utmost.
Thus, the monarch has always about two score of drummers, a score of
fifers, half a score of native guitar-players, several mountebanks,
clowns, dwarfs, and albinoes, a multitude of errand-boys, pages,
messengers, courtiers, claimants, besides a large number of bodyguards
and two standard-bearers, either following or preceding him wherever he
goes, to declare his state and quality. The chiefs, therefore, have also
their followers, standard-bearers, and pages, and so on down to the
peasant or cowherd, who makes an infantile slave trot after him to carry
his shield and spears.
In person the Waganda are tall and slender. I have seen hundreds of them
above 6 feet 2 inches in height, while I saw one who measured 6 feet 6
inches. Of course the native Waganda must be distinguished from
strangers and slaves and their descendants imported from conquered
lands, and generally they differ from these by their more pleasing looks
and more agreeable features. This last, however, may be attributed to a
general love of cleanliness, neatness, and modesty, which pervades all,
from the highest to the lowest. A naked or immodest person is a
downright abomination to a follower of Mtesa’s court, and even the
poorest peasants frown and sneer at absolute nudity.
It has been mentioned above that the Waganda surpass other African
tribes in craft and fraud, but this may, at the same time, be taken as
an indication of their superior intelligence. This is borne out by many
other proofs. Their cloths are of finer make; their habitations are
better and neater; their spears are the most perfect, I should say, in
Africa, and they exhibit extraordinary skill and knowledge of that
deadly weapon; their shields are such as would attract admiration in any
land, while the canoes surpass all canoes in the savage world.
The Waganda frequently have recourse to drawing on the ground to
illustrate imperfect oral description, and I have often been surprised
by the cleverness and truthfulness of these rough illustrations. When
giving reasons firstly, secondly, and thirdly, they have a curious way
of taking a stick and breaking it into small pieces. One piece of a
stick delivered with emphasis, and gravely received by the listener in
his palm, concludes the first reason, another stick announces the
conclusion of the second reason, until they come to the “thirdly,” when
they raise both hands with the palms turned from them, as if to say,
“There, I’ve given you my reasons, and you must perforce understand it
all now!”
Nearly all the principal attendants at the court can write the Arabic
letters. The Emperor and many of the chiefs both read and write that
character with facility, and frequently employ it to send messages to
one another, or to strangers at a distance. The materials which they use
for this are very thin smooth slabs of cotton-wood. Mtesa possesses
several score of these, on which are written his “books of wisdom,” as
he styles the results of his interviews with European travellers. Some
day a curious traveller may think it worth while to give us translations
of these proceedings and interviews.
The power of sight of these natives is extraordinary. Frequently a
six-guinea field-glass was excelled by them. Their sense of hearing is
also very acute.
It is really wonderful into how many uses the ingenious savage of these
regions can convert a simple plant. Regard the banana-plant, for
instance. At first view, in the eyes of the untaught civilized man, it
seems to be of no other use than to bear fruit after its kind, for the
stalk of it cannot be employed as fuel, and its fronds soon fade and
wither and rend, and unless the savage pointed out its various uses, I
fear the civilized man would consider it of slight value. It is,
however, of exceeding utility to the native of Uganda.
1. Its fruit, green or ripe, forms his principal food. When green, the
Waganda peels his bananas, folds them carefully up in the form of a
parcel, enclosed in green banana-leaves, and, putting a small quantity
of water in his pot, cooks them with the steam alone. This mode of
cooking green bananas renders them floury in appearance, and, in taste,
most sweet and palatable. When ripe, they form an admirable dessert,
and, taken in the morning before coffee, serve with some constitutions
as an agreeable laxative.
[Illustration:
MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS.
1. Kinauda. 2. Whistle of Ubujwe. 3. Caravan horn of guide.
4. Drum of Uzimba. 5. Flute of kopi or peasant. 6. Drum of
Uganda. 7. Guitar of Usoga. 8. Great war-drum of Uganda.
9. Guitar of Uganda. 10. One-stringed banjo of Unyamwezi.
]
Of the banana proper, there are several varieties, each distinguished by
a special name, just as the European gardener distinguishes his several
varieties of potatoes. Some are 3 inches in length, with deep green
coats, and seem fat with matter. Others, 6 inches in length, and of a
lighter green colour, are considered the best; others are short, plumpy
fruit, great favourites also. There is another species, known by a dark
point, rather bitter to the taste and unfit for food, but specially
reserved for the manufacture of wine, for which it alone is adapted.
2. The fruit of this latter species furnishes the natives with the
maramba, a honey-sweet, cider-flavoured wine, and, when mixed with a
little millet, sweet beer also. When fermented and perfect, the latter
is a potent liquid, and a quart suffices to disturb the equilibrium of
many men; but there are old topers, like Prince Kaduma, who would toss
off a gallon and be apparently only slightly elated after it. A small
draught of maramba taken at dawn I found beneficial to the system.
3. The banana-fronds serve as thatch for houses, fences for enclosures,
and as bedding. They are also used to protect milk, water, and flour
vessels from dust and impurities, are employed as table-cloths, on
which food is spread, and, like newspapers or brown paper, are used
as wrappers for gifts of eatables, such as ripe bananas, butter,
meat, eggs, fish, &c., while they serve daily and universally as
pudding-cloths in the Kiganda households. The cool, thick shade
afforded by a banana plantation is well known.
4. The stems are sometimes used for fences and defensive enclosures;
they are also frequently employed as rollers, to move heavy logs, or for
the transportation of canoes overland from point to point, when the
strategies of war demand it. The pith or heart of the stalk is scraped
and made into sponges of a dough-cake pattern, and may be seen in almost
all Kiganda lavatories. Frequently the indolent prefer to knead a fresh
sponge-cake and make their ablutions with this to going to the river,
lake, pond, or well, or troubling themselves to fetch a vessel of water.
The fibres of the stalk are used as cord, and are adapted for almost
every purpose for which cord is useful. The poorest peasants make rough
but serviceable shields also from the stalk, while the fishermen of the
lake make large sun-hats from it. Many other uses might be mentioned,
but the above are sufficient to prove that, besides its cool agreeable
shade, the banana-plant will supply a peasant of Uganda with bread,
potatoes, dessert, wine, beer, medicine, house and fence, bed, cloth,
cooking-pot, table-cloth, parcel-wrapper, thread, cord, rope, sponge,
bath, shield, sun-hat, even a canoe—in fact almost everything but meat
and iron. With the banana-plant, he is happy, fat, and thriving; without
it, he is a famished, discontented, woe-begone wretch, hourly expecting
death.
[Illustration:
NGOGO FISH.
10 inches long, 3 inches deep; scaleless; horn at each shoulder; two
long thick filaments on upper lip, four on lower. Found in Speke
Gulf, Lake Victoria.
]
-----
# 29:
This part of Pokino’s history was related to me by Pokino himself,
Kitunzi, Sambuzi, and his page.
# 30:
The white goats of Usoga are like the famous Angora goats, with fine
silky hair from 4 to 8 inches in length.
CHAPTER XVI.
TO MUTA NZIGÉ AND BACK TO UGANDA.
The ladies of Mtesa’s family—Sambuzi ordered to take me to Muta Nzigé—My
last evening with Mtesa—_En route_ for Muta Nzigé—Sambuzi suffers from
“the big head”—We come to an understanding—The white people of
Gambaragara—War music—Through a deserted country—Sinister auguries—A
cowards’ council of war—Panic in the camp—Sambuzi announces his
intention of deserting me—The flight when none pursued—The “Spoiler”
eaten up—Mtesa tries to persuade me to return—At Kafurro.
_Oct. 29._—On the 29th of October Mtesa and his grand army arrived at
the old capital of Ulagalla. There was but little demonstration made to
welcome the monarch from the war, except what was made by the females of
the imperial household, who were mustered in strong force under the
leadership of Nana Mazuri, the Emperor’s mother, a venerable old lady of
decidedly masculine mind, and of a revengeful and fierce disposition.
The Emperor honours his mother greatly, and bestowed hearty embraces
on her and on the ancient relicts of Suna his father, who were also
brought to meet him and to do him honour, and to receive the son of
heroic Suna as became their respect for him and their awe of his rank
and power. Lu-lu-luing and welcomes and fond smiles were the order of
the day; a great drinking of maramba wine and potent beer followed; and
musketry salutes, killing of beeves and goats, and interchanging of
presents, closed the day of the return to the capital.
After allowing a few days to transpire for rest, I began to recall to
the Emperor’s mind the original purpose of my visit to him, and of his
promise to conform to my request. He consented to my departure, and
kindly permitted me to make my own choice out of his chiefs for the
leader of the force which was to give its aid to our Expedition for the
exploration of the country between Muta Nzigé and Lake Victoria. I
selected Sambuzi, a young man of thirty years of age or thereabouts,
whose gallantry and personal courage had several times been
conspicuously displayed during the war with the Wavuma, and whose rank
and station guaranteed a force strong enough to withstand, if well
managed, a greater power than the king of Unyoro—then at war with Gordon
Pasha—could conveniently despatch to oppose us.
[Illustration:
DESCRIPTION OF THE ILLUSTRATION.—1. East Manyema spear. 2. Urundi,
Karagwé, and Uhha spear. 3. Unyoro shield. 4. Uregga knife. 5. Rua
knife. 6. Uvuma and Usoga knife. 7. Manyema knife. 8. Uregga knife.
9. Uganda knife. 10. Ukerewé knife. 11. Clubs and walking stick. 12.
Ordinary spear of Unyamwezi. 13. Uregga spear. 14. Uganda macheté.
15. Manyema shield. 16. Uhyeya billhook. 17. Uganda shield. 18.
Unyamwezi billhook. 19. Usongora and Bumbireh shield. 20. Usongora
and Bumbireh macheté. 21. Manyema spear. 22. Uganda spear.
]
Mtesa, admitting that Sambuzi was a wise choice, stated with the usual
exaggeration of an African or an Oriental that he should have 5000
warriors, and all the chiefs at the levee concurred with him. On my
request to him that he would repeat, clearly and within hearing of all,
his commands to Sambuzi, Mtesa called the chief to him, who, while
prostrate on the ground, received the following command in a loud and
clear voice:—
“Sambuzi, my guest Stamlee is going to Muta Nzigé. He has asked that you
should lead the Waganda to the lake, and I have consented. Now listen to
my words. Nearly all the white men who have accepted my people as escort
complain that the Waganda gave great trouble to them. Let me not hear
this of you. I shall send messengers to Kabba Rega to inform him of your
object, and command him to abstain from molesting you. Now go, muster
all your men, and I shall send four sub-chiefs with 1000 men each under
Watongoleh to assist you. Do whatever Stamlee advises or suggests should
be done, and by no means return to Uganda until you have absolutely
performed my commands. If you do return without Stamlee’s letter
authorizing you to abandon the project, you will dare my anger. I have
said.”
“Thanks, thanks, thanks, oh, thanks, my lord!” Sambuzi replied, rubbing
his face in the dust. Then standing up, he seized his spears, and,
levelling them, cried out: “I go at the Emperor’s command to take
Stamlee to the Muta Nzigé. I shall take Stamlee through the heart of
Unyoro to the lake. We shall build a strong boma, and stay there until
Stamlee has finished his work. Who shall withstand me? My drum shall be
sounded for the muster to-day, and I shall gather all the young men of
the Katonga valley under my flag! When Sambuzi’s flag is seen, the
Wanyora will fly and leave my road white and free, for it is _Kabaka_
who sends him, and Sambuzi comes in the name of _Kabaka_! Thanks,
thanks, oh, many thanks, my lord, my own dear lord!”
The eve of my departure was spent in conversation with the Emperor, who
seemed really sorry that the time had arrived for a positive and final
leave-taking. The chief subject of conversation was the Christian
church, which had just begun to be erected, where the rites of the
Church were to be performed by Dallington after the style and manner
shown to him by the Universities mission at Zanzibar, until one more
worthy to take his place should arrive.
We went together over the grounds of the Christian faith, and Mtesa
repeated to me at my request as much as he knew of the advantages to be
gained by the adoption of the Christian religion, and of its superiority
to that of Islam, in which he had first been taught. By his remarks he
proved that he had a very retentive memory, and was tolerably well
posted in his articles of belief. At night I left him with an earnest
adjuration to hold fast to the new faith, and to have recourse to prayer
to God to give him strength to withstand all temptations that should
tend to violate the commandments written in the Bible.
Early next morning my convert sent me many presents as tokens of his
esteem, such as four shields, sixteen spears, twelve knives, ten
billhooks, six walking-sticks, twelve finely prepared skins and furs of
wild animals, 20 lbs. of myrrh, four white monkey-skins, ten beeves,
sixteen goats, bananas and beer and wine, and an escort of one hundred
warriors to proceed by the lake to Dumo.
For our mutual friend Lukongeh, king of Ukerewé, he sent at my request
five long tusks of ivory, one comely virgin of fifteen as a wife
suitable for a king, being of the beautiful race of Gambaragara, also 20
lbs. of fine iron wire, six white monkey-skins, and one large new canoe,
capable of carrying fifty men.
For my friend the king of Komeh Island and the lake shore of Uzinja he
sent the same, and distributed beeves among the ambassadors from the
king, whom I had brought to receive these presents.
From myself I sent to my kind friend Lukongeh one bale of assorted
cloth, two coils of brass wire, 60 lbs. of fine beads, and two suits of
blue and red flannel, besides a plush velvet rug.
Happy that I had so prospered despite the vexatious delay which was
unavoidable, and that I had been able to do even more than I had
promised to the kings of Ukerewé and Komeh, I set out from Ntewi with
twenty large canoes full of Waganda warriors, five canoes for my own
special escort, two to escort the embassy of Ukerewé home, two to escort
the embassy of Komeh home, and eleven to open trade by the lake route,
with Unyanyembé viâ Kagehyi—also a suggestion of mine.
On the same day that I set out from Ntewi, Sambuzi led a thousand men
from Ulagalla overland to our rendezvous on the Katonga river, where he
was to be joined by the Expedition from Dumo, and the four sub-chiefs
Sekajugu, Mkoma, Kurji, and Ngezi.
Our party proceeding by the lake were hospitably entertained at Nakavija
by the grand admiral of Mtesa, Gabunga, and by Jumba, vice-admiral at
Unjaku, with beeves, milk, wine, beer, bananas, tomatoes, and sweet
potatoes.
At Ujaju our india-rubber pontoon was condemned, and a new and light
canoe was substituted for it, and named the _Livingstone_, to take to
Muta Nzigé to assist the _Lady Alice_ in the exploration of that lake.
After four days’ coasting we arrived at Dumo, and greeted the Expedition
after an absence of three months and five days. Frank Pocock had enjoyed
splendid health, and the soldiers showed by their robust forms that they
had lived on the best in Uddu, and that the Emperor’s commands
respecting them had not been neglected. All this time they had been
sustained free of cost to me, and I could not find it in my heart to
return the Waganda escort back to the Emperor without some token of my
gratitude, and accordingly I made up a present of four bales of cloth,
and 140 lbs. of choice beads, besides various other presents.
A few days sufficed to reform the Expedition, repack all loads, and to
prepare the boat, which had now seen nearly nine months of rough service
on Lake Victoria, for transport overland to Muta Nzigé.
The _Livingstone_ canoe was also taken to pieces, and made into portable
loads for the journey. This canoe was 23 feet long, 34 inches wide, and
2 feet deep, and was formed of four long planks and one keel-piece sewn
together with cane fibre, which, with the thwarts and bow-piece, formed
light portable loads for seven men.
On the seventh day after my return to Dumo we began the march towards
the general rendezvous of the exploring army on the Katonga river. We
journeyed through Uddu in a north-north-westerly direction, until,
striking the Kyogia river, we followed the course of that tributary of
the Katonga river as far as Kikoma, when we crossed the stream and
entered the country of Bwera, which lies parallel to Uddu, and extends
from Koki westward of Uddu as far as the Katonga river.
At Kikoma we were compelled to come to a halt until Sambuzi was informed
of our arrival, and guides could be obtained from him to lead us to the
rendezvous.
Meanwhile I took advantage of the halt to hunt game and to obtain
meat-provision for the expedition. During the five days of our halt
here I was so fortunate as to shoot fifty-seven hartebeest, two zebra,
and one water-buck. The abundance of game in this wild debatable
district, and the immunity they enjoy from man—in consequence of the
numerous lions and leopards, and also the neighbourhood of raiders
from the hostile country of Ankori—was the principal cause of my great
success. The first day I set out I bagged five fine animals within
a few minutes, which astonished not only the Waganda body-guards of
Mtesa, but also myself.
We heard of lions as being abundant in the neighbourhood of Kikoma, but
though I roved far into the wilderness west of Kikoma, I never saw the
slightest trace of either lions or leopards.
The arrival of guides from “General” Sambuzi broke up our halt, and
caused us to resume our march, and the second day brought us to the
Katonga river, or rather lagoon, for I could detect no running water.
The bed of the Katonga is about half a mile wide, choked with spear
grass and papyrus, with stagnant water 3, 4, and even 7 feet deep in
some places.
The crossing of the Katonga consumed an entire day, and was effected by
means of the _Lady Alice_, which had to be forced through the dense
reeds. At Ruwewa, on the north bank of the Katonga, Sambuzi’s delay
caused us another halt of five days, which was a sore tax on my
patience, and but little in accordance with either my hopes or Mtesa’s
instructions. However, we were so far entered into the enterprise, and
were now so remote from any other possible means of advance, that we had
to console ourselves with the reflection that “what cannot be mended
must be borne,” though mentally I cruelly condemned our dilatory
general. The landscape between Dumo and the Katonga river presents
smooth, rounded, hilly ridges separated by broad, grassy valleys dotted
with ant-hills and scantily clothed with brushwood. It is a fine
pastoral country, eminently suited for grazing, but in the absence of a
sufficient population it is a famous haunt for noble game, so
unsuspicious as to be easily accessible to a tolerable shot. In the
uninhabited portions of the country few trees are seen, save the rugged
euphorbiæ.
The eye here commands many views of extensive prospects of rolling
country, of grassy hills and grassy valleys, following one another in
regular series.
As we all enjoyed unusual good health during our journey through this
country, one could not help fancying that it was to the far-receding
prospects opening on every side that we owed much of our healthfulness.
It was certain that the blood flowed quicker, that the eye kindled with
brighter light, and that we breathed more freely when we stood on one of
those high, commanding grassy ridges and somewhat fondly compared the
land to others we had seen elsewhere, where fever and ague were not so
prevalent.
To describe Uddu and Bwera in detail would be a tedious task, for there
is much sameness of outline in hill and valley, swell and hollow, ridge
and basin, but viewed as a whole from the summit of any eminence, there
is something really noble and grand in the survey.
I observed that the parts inhabited by the Waganda are, as a rule, the
ridges and tabular summits of the hills, and that the hollows and basins
are left for grazing purposes to the roving Wahuma shepherds.
On the sixth day after our arrival at Ruwewa, in the district of
Kahwangau, we marched to Laugurwe, where we met—as courtiers had
pre-informed us—General Sambuzi with a thousand men. We camped half
a mile off from the general, occupying an entire village, from the
plantations of which we were at liberty to help ourselves to our
hearts’ content. Sambuzi’s force occupied the villages north of us.
In the afternoon I called to pay my respects to the general, for common
sense informed me that the best way of attaining the objects in view was
to pay the utmost possible attention to the failings of this African
general, and to observe all ceremony and politeness towards him.
During the war with Uvuma, while I was a constant and honoured attendant
at the morning levee of the Emperor, Sambuzi had occupied with his force
the ground in rear of our detachment, and this chief had then courted my
friendship most assiduously. This in fact was one of the reasons why I
had made choice of him, and preferred his name to Mtesa. But when I now
saw him, I found his behaviour to be an overacted imitation of the
Emperor, without the monarch’s courtliness and kindliness of manner.
As I entered the court, which had been constructed with a view to
enhance his dignity, if space can be said to increase dignity, I
observed that the general stood up from amongst his subordinates and
stiffly maintained that position until I grasped him by the hand, when
he managed to utter a faint greeting in response to mine.
I was not altogether unprepared for this result of his promotion; still
it chilled me, angered me a little, I must confess, and induced me to
ask him if anything was wrong. “No,” he said, “nothing was wrong.”
“Then why are you so stiff with your friend?” I asked. “Do you not like
the idea of going to Muta Nzigé? If you regret your appointment, I can
apply for another man.”
“My liking or not liking the journey will not alter the command of
_Kabaka_,” he replied. “I have received my commands to take you to Muta
Nzigé, and I will take you there. I am not a child, I am a man, and my
name is known pretty well in Unyoro, for the Wanyoro and Wasongora have
felt the sharpness of my spear, and it is not likely that they can turn
me back before I bring you to the lake. I stand in the place of _Kabaka_
now, for I represent him here, and the army is under my command.
Sambuzi, your friend at Uvuma, is changed now to Sambuzi the general.
You understand me?”
“Perfectly,” I answered. “I have a few words to say in reply, and you
will then understand me as well as I understand you. I wish to go to
Muta Nzigé lake. So long as you take me there and do exactly as the
Emperor has commanded you, you shall have as much honour and respect
from me as though you were the Emperor himself, and besides that you
shall have so rich a reward that the Katekiro of Uganda himself will
envy you. With your mode of marching and camping I have nothing to do so
long as we are in Uganda, but when we enter Unyoro, I would advise you
as a friend, since we are about to enter the country against the will of
the people, that you keep the army together, that one camp be made and
good positions occupied, and that when any trouble threatens us, you do
not act without the advice of others, able and willing to give advice.
That is all.”
“It is well,” he said, “we understand one another now. We will march by
slow degrees as far as the frontier, that the other chiefs may have time
to come up, and you shall then judge for yourself whether the Waganda
know how to march.”
Considered as we would consider of things European, Sambuzi could not be
blamed for assuming dignity, and I therefore excused what otherwise
might be called gross behaviour on his part. Sambuzi’s force would be
quite twenty times stronger in numbers than mine, and he was my only
means of pushing through Unyoro. Prudence counselled me therefore not to
let false pride be an obstacle to the accomplishment and success of the
enterprise, and I determined to listen to its counsel.
Our journey to Kawanga, on the frontier of Uganda, was along the north
bank of the Katonga, through an open rolling country, cut up frequently
by watercourses which feed the Katonga. These watercourses, though
called rivers, show no running stream, but only river-like marshes or
broad “rush drains,” choked with spear-grass and papyrus of the same
nature as the Katonga. North or south of the Katonga, at the distance of
ten miles or so, the land rises rapidly, and here numerous streams of
clear, sweet water take their origin, but in their descent to the
Katonga valley they become united and absorbed by great breadths of
river-like marshes, the oozy contents of which are drained by the broad
lagoon-like Katonga.[31] It maintains this character until near the base
of a low hill which separates the feeders of Muta Nzigé from those of
Lake Victoria. The crest of this hill is not more than 250 feet above
the bed of the Katonga, and it is not more than two miles from its
eastern to its western base, yet along the eastern base curves the bed
of the Katonga from the north-west, and along the western rushes the
Rusango, from the foot of Mount Lawson southward towards the Muta Nzigé.
Except in the vicinity of the Katonga there is scarcely one square mile
of level ground to be seen. Our eyes dwelt everywhere on grassy hollows,
slopes, and ridges, and the prospect each day was bounded by lines of
blue hills, which, as we progressed westward, assumed mountainous
altitudes.
At Kawanga, when Sambuzi’s force had been all collected, our army
consisted of fighting-men as follows:—
The _Daily Telegraph and New York Herald_ expedition 180
Sambuzi, general 1000
Mkoma, colonel 250
Ngezi, colonel 250
Sekajugu, colonel 450
Mrowla, captain 100
Kurji, captain 40
———
2270
Mtesa’s bodyguards under Sabadu (sergeant) 20
———
Total 2290
Following this little army there were about 500 women and children,
giving a grand total of nearly 2800 souls.
With Colonel Sekajugu were four men of Gambaragara, who were of a
remarkably light complexion, approaching to that of dark-faced
Europeans, who differed altogether in habits and manners from the
Waganda. They possessed their own milch-cows, and their diet appeared to
consist entirely of milk. The features of these people, besides their
complexion, were so regular and remarkable that my curiosity was aroused
to the highest pitch concerning them. I had seen stray representatives
of these people at the court of Mtesa, but I had not the opportunity
then that I had now to enquire definitely about them. I here set down,
as I was told, what I gathered respecting them, both from their own lips
and those of Colonel Sekajugu, who was the best informed of the Waganda.
These light-complexioned, regular-featured people are natives of
Gambaragara—a country situated between Usongora and Unyoro. Gambaragara
embraces all the immediate districts neighbouring the base of the lofty
Mount Gordon-Bennett, upon the summit of which snow is often seen. We
caught a view, as we travelled through Unyoro, of this lofty mountain,
which lay north-westerly from Western Benga, in Unyoro; but the distance
was too great for me to describe it exactly. It appeared to be an
enormous and blunted cone about 14,000 or 15,000 feet high.
According to Sekajugu, the mountain springs up in a series of terraces
from a level plain; numerous waterfalls plunge down its steep slopes,
and two days are usually occupied in the ascent to the highest summit.
The king, Ny-ika, with his principal chiefs and their families, live
during war-time on the highest part of the mountain, which appears to
be, from report, something like an extinct crater. They described it to
me as a hollow surrounded by high walls of rock, which contains a small
round lake, from the centre of which rises a lofty columnar rock. It is
very cold there, and snow frequently falls. The slopes, base, and summit
are thickly populated, but though powerful in numbers, the courage and
skill of the people in war are much derided by the Waganda, who speak of
them as preferring to take refuge in caves, and on the summits of almost
inaccessible rocks, to venturing into the open for a fair fight.
Though probably inferior in courage to the Waganda, they must have
distinguished themselves in war at one time, otherwise I cannot account
for the brave and warlike people of Usongora being the subjects of
Nyika, king of Gambaragara.
This king possesses several villages in different parts of the mountain,
and appears to move from one to another, as his numerous herds of cattle
become stinted in their pasture. Milk being the principal diet of these
people, it may be supposed that cattle are abundant in Gambaragara and
Usongora. The Katekiro of Uganda in his great raid on this region is
said to have collected “50,000” head of cattle. General Sambuzi
accompanied him during that famous time, and has often amused my leisure
hours with lively descriptions of his adventures.
The people are a peculiarly formed race. At one time they are said to
have been all white, and to have emigrated from Northern Unyoro, but at
the present time the black and light-complexioned are about equal in
numbers. The blacks are the result of successive wars during ancient
times and intermarriages between the captors and captives, the result
being a singularly long-limbed and slender-bodied people. The royal
family and the chiefs’ families continue to preserve their
exclusiveness, and hence it is that the original colour of the founders
of the state has been preserved. The women are said to be singularly
beautiful; I have seen several of them, and though I will not call them
beautiful, as we understand the term in Europe and America, they are
superior to any women I have seen in Africa, and have nothing in common
with negroes except the hair. They are said also to be entrusted with
the keeping of the charms of Kabba Rega, and to be endowed by hereditary
right with the privilege of priests of the Muzimu of Unyoro.
To my disappointment I heard of nothing that would lead me to suppose
they were superior to their less favoured neighbours in manners or
customs or their ways and means of life.
_Jan. 1._—On New Year’s Day, 1876, the exploring army, nearly 2800
strong, filed out from under the plantain shades of Kawanga, each
detachment under the flag of its respective leader, and each known by
the particular style of music adopted by the great chief to whom it owed
martial service. Thus Sambuzi’s own force could be distinguished at a
great distance by a peculiar strain, which, as the Waganda explained,
announced, “Mta-usa, Mta-usa is coming!” or, “The Spoiler, the Spoiler
is coming!” Lukoma’s bands of music in the same way rang out, “Mkoma,
Lukoma is near!” “Look out for Lukoma!” Sekajugu’s name, on the other
hand, appeared after the style of ding-dong-bell, or drawn out into
“Se-ka-ju-gu, Sekajugu!”
On emerging from under the shelter of our plantain-embowered camp,
we were drawn up in a long line along the narrow road. Sekajugu was
appointed to take the advance, Lukoma the rear, Sambuzi and the
Anglo-American Expedition the centre, while the smaller detachments,
under Colonel Ngezi, Mrowla, and Kurji, took positions on the right
and left, to keep the main column undisturbed by ambuscades. There was
no time lost in these arrangements, and at sunrise the great drum of
Sambuzi gave the signal for the march. At noon we occupied a deserted
camp, known as the Salt Bunder, on the Nabutari river, which separated
Unyoro from Uganda. The heights on the opposite side were observed to
be manned by many Wanyoro.
With the eastern bank of the Nabutari, or Nabwari, river terminated the
soft pastoral scenes among which our route had lain ever since leaving
Dumo, on Lake Victoria, for from the western bank began a more rugged
country, which, as we proceeded westward, daily assumed a more
mountainous character. The country resolved itself into mountain masses
of great altitude—bare and serrated hilly ridges, isolated craggy hills,
separated by a rolling country, whose surface often presented great
sheets of ironstone rock, mixed with fragments of granite. Each day’s
march presented two or three mountains of unusual height, which,
dwarfing all others, became of great service to us in taking bearings
and laying down a correct route.
_Jan. 2._—On the 2nd of January we crossed the Nabutari, or Nabwari,
river, and entered hostile Unyoro, and, undisturbed, made a march of ten
miles, occupying at the end of it several villages in Southern Ruoko,
Unyoro. Had we not been informed of the change, we should have
recognised at once the fact that we had entered into a new country, by
the difference in the construction of the huts, and in the vegetables
which formed the principal subsistence of the natives. While in Uganda
bananas formed our principal food—and very good, wholesome, and
digestible they proved—throughout Unyoro our diet consisted of sweet
potatoes and salt, varied with such other vegetables as foraging could
obtain.
It was an amusing scene to see the haste with which the several
detachments rushed about to dig up their rations. It appeared at first
glance as if we had brought the exploring army to recultivate Unyoro, so
thickly strewn and so busy were the diggers over the village fields. The
digging was continued until sunset, and such quantities of potatoes came
to camp that I fancied something like a desire to plunder the Wanyoro
animated our people.
In the meantime our advance was unchecked, and our occupation of
Southern Ruoko unmolested; Sambuzi and Sekajugu drew from this sinister
auguries. “The Wanyoro,” said they, “must be mustering elsewhere to
oppose us; for usually, when we make a raid on this country, the natives
hail us from the hill-tops, to learn the motive of our coming; but now
the country is all silent and deserted; not one native can be seen.”
They therefore determined to send out spies in all directions, to
ascertain the feeling of the natives respecting our strange invasion of
their country; and in order to give time to obtain correct information,
a halt was ordered for the next day.
_Jan. 5._—On the 5th January the various musical bands and war-drums
announced another march. The Waganda being unencumbered with baggage,
except such bedding, mats, and superfluous robes as their women carried,
marched quickly, and tasked the heavily loaded expedition greatly; but
my people did not fail me; they had long ago been thoroughly drilled for
such occasions as the present, and they kept step and pace with the
lightly equipped Waganda. The men who carried the boat-sections and
canoe raced like horses, and arrived soon after the advanced-guard at
camp. Traversing the district of South Ruoko, we plunged into an
uninhabited tract of mountain country, and, after a march of eleven
miles, camped at Kazinga, in Eastern Benga.
_Jan. 6._—The next day we crossed the Katonga, for our course was now
westerly, and occupied Western Benga, from the summit of a tall hill in
which we obtained a faint view of an enormous blue mass afar off, which
we were told was the Great Mountain in the country of Gambaragara. I
named it Gordon-Bennett, in honour of my American chief.
[Illustration: MOUNT EDWIN ARNOLD.]
Our foragers here obtained for the first time a sight and hearing of
some natives, who shouted out that we might proceed without fear, though
they doubted our ability to return, unless we took wings like birds and
flew aloft. Some hiding-places of the natives were also discovered by
accident amongst the tall grass beyond the fields. A little way from the
village we found many deep pits, with small circular mouths, which
proved, on examination, to lead by several passages from the mouth of
the pit to more roomy excavations, like so many apartments. These
underground dwellings are numerous in Southern Unyoro.
_Jan. 8._—After a march of sixteen miles through a wild country we
camped, on the 8th of January, on the east bank of the Mpanga river.
This stream takes its rise near the base of Mount Gordon-Bennett, and,
flowing a few miles to the east of the lofty hump of Mount Edwin Arnold,
is met by the Rusango river, flowing north-west from Mount Lawson, in
the district of Kibanga, in Ankori; the two streams then, united, rush
with impetuous force a little north of west, and, after several falls,
plunge into Beatrice Gulf. Mount Edwin Arnold, of an altitude of some
9000 feet above the sea, stood west of our camp, on the Mpanga, at the
distance of six miles.
We had now left Unyoro proper and entered Ankori, or Usagara. An old
dilapidated wooden enclosure denoted that this extreme corner of Ankori
was sometimes visited by Wasagara herdsmen for the sake of pasture.
The average altitude of our several camps since leaving the Victoria
Lake did not exceed 4600 feet; but as we drew west, the nights were
bitterly cold. On the night of the 7th the thermometer fell to 53°
Fahr., and on the night of the 8th to 55° Fahr., this cold temperature
being, no doubt, caused by night winds from Gordon-Bennett Mountain.
Fogs, rivalling the famed November fogs in London, prevailed as a rule
every morning, rendering the earlier part of each day damp,
disagreeable, and cheerless. It was so thick that a man’s form could not
be seen at the distance of fifty yards, and horn and drums alone guided
us on our march. During the afternoons the atmosphere slightly cleared,
and the sun, struggling in the western skies from behind deep banks of
sullen clouds, endeavoured to announce to us that the day was far spent.
_Jan. 9._—On the 9th of January, 1876, the drums sounded for the march
two hours before sunrise, for we had a long journey before us, and
Uzimba, the country of chief Ruigi, was to be entered on this day.
Until daylight we journeyed along, or not far from, the Rusango, its
many falls, rapids, and cascades telling of the rapid rush and furious
plunge of the river towards Muta Nzigé. Dawn found us in a singularly
wild and beautifully picturesque country, the Switzerland of Africa.
Peaks, cones, mountain humps, and dome-like hills shot up in every
direction, while ice-cold streams rolled between riven and dismantled
rocks or escaped beneath natural bridges of rock, with furious roar.
These gritty sandstone obstructions to the Rusango’s waters presented
most distorted and eccentric forms, appearing often like masses of
scoriæ. The traces of some agency, which long ago had convulsed this
region, were visible in what appeared to be the wreck of mountains. The
strata were perpendicular, seams of white quartz travelled along the lay
of the strata in some places, and in others it appeared to have been
encased in round moulds, which the impetuous waters, with their
ceaseless wear and tear, had worn through, sweeping away the quartz, and
leaving large hollows, cavities, and fissures in the sandstone. A small
tributary of the Rusango from the south ran over a bed of polished
basalt, which likewise contained large veins of quartz.
Soon after noon the main column arrived at the centre of a dip in the
Uzimba ridge, 5600 feet above the sea, whence, far below us, we viewed
the fields, gardens, and villages of the populous country of King Ruigi.
But the sudden advance of the vanguard amongst the surprised natives,
with banners flying and drums beating, had depopulated for the time the
fair, smiling country, and left a clear, open road for the main body.
Had the natives known of our approach, they might have reaped a rich
harvest of revenge amongst the laggards in the rear, for the long march
of nineteen miles had irremediably dissolved the hitherto compact
Expedition into small knots of dispirited and tired stragglers. One
fellow, named Andrew, of the British Mission at Zanzibar, had thrown his
load down, and plunged into the bushes to sleep his weariness off, and a
rescue party of twenty men had to be sent back five miles from camp to
hunt up news of him, and they, fortunately, saved him, though menaced by
a band of natives. Some sick Waganda fell victims in the evening to the
wrath of a roving party of the natives, who had been disturbed in mind
by our presence.
Our descent into the fields of Uzimba was so unexpected that the
inhabitants were utterly ignorant of our character and country. As they
ran away, they asked the advance guard why the king of Ankori had sent
his people to their country, and warned them that the next day they
would come to fight. At night, however, the great war-drum of General
Sambuzi revealed far and wide the character of the force, and announced
that the Waganda were amongst them.
A council of all the chiefs and leaders of our Expedition was held next
day, at which it was resolved to send out that night 200 men to capture
a few prisoners, through whom we could communicate our intentions to
Ruigi of Uzimba, and Kasheshé, king of Unyampaka, which country bordered
the lake west of Uzimba. As the lake was only four miles distant, it
became necessary to know how we were regarded by the natives, and
whether we might expect peaceful possession of a camp for a month or so.
Some ten prisoners were captured, and, after receiving gifts of cloth
and beads, were released, to convey the news to their respective chiefs
that the Waganda had brought a white man, who wished to see the lake,
and who asked permission to reside in peace in the country a few days;
that the white man intended to pay for all food consumed by the
strangers; that he would occupy no village, and injure no property, but
would build his camp separate from the villages, into which the natives,
having food to sell, were requested to bring it, and to receive payment
in cloth, beads, brass, or copper, assured that, so long as they offered
no cause, and kept the peace, they should receive no annoyance. An
answer, we said, was expected within two days.
_Jan. 11._—On the 11th of January we left the villages of Uzimba, and
marched to within a mile of the edge of the plateau,[32] at the base of
which, about 1500 feet below, lay the lake. True to our promise, we
occupied no village, but built our camp on the broad summit of a low
ridge, whence we commanded a clear, open view of our neighbourhood. The
Expedition occupied the lake end of the ridge, while the Waganda
occupied the centre and eastern end. On the southern and northern sides
the hill sloped down to open grassy hollows. No trees or other
obstructions impeded our command of the approaches. The Waganda camps
were surrounded by huts, the doors of which turned outwards, whence
night and day the inmates could observe, without being observed.
_Jan. 12._—The next day an answer was brought that the inhabitants were
not accustomed to strangers, and did not like our coming into their
country; that Uzimba and Unyampaka belonged to Unyoro; that as the king
of Unyoro was fighting with white men, how could the white man come
behind him and expect peace? that our words were good, but our purposes,
they were assured, were none the less wicked; and that we must,
therefore, expect war on the morrow.
[Illustration:
HOUSE AND WOODEN UTENSILS OF UZIMBA AND ANKORI.
1. Wooden stool. 2. Wooden milking vessel. 3. Wooden stool. 4. Wooden
goblet. 5. Wooden porridge dish. 6. Wooden porridge plate. 7. Wooden
milking vessel of Ankori. 8. Wooden bowl. 9. Earthenware cooking
pot. 10. Earthenware cooking pot. 11. Earthenware water vessel. 12.
Wooden dish. 13. Wooden cup. 14. Wooden family banana and sweet
potato dish. 15. House in Uzimba. 16. Wooden water vessel of Uzimba.
17. Wooden bowl of Uzimba.
]
This answer was brought by about three hundred natives, who, while they
delivered their message, were observed to have taken precautions not to
be caught at a disadvantage. Having announced their object, they
withdrew in the direction of Mount Uzimba.
This declaration of war unsettled the nerves of the Waganda chiefs,
principally the inferior chiefs and the bodyguards of Mtesa, and a
stormy meeting was the result. Sabadu and Bugomba, the brother of the
Premier, used their utmost eloquence to persuade Sambuzi to return;
while Sekajugu and Lukoma cunningly held out strong reasons why they
should, return immediately. At the same time they said they were quite
willing to stay by Sambuzi to the death.
The danger of a panic was imminent, when I begged that Sambuzi would
listen to a few words from me. I explained to him that, though we were
only a bullet’s flight from the Nyanza, we had not yet seen the lake,
and that Mtesa had ordered him to take me to the Nyanza; that, before we
had even looked for a strong camp, we were talking of returning; that,
if they were all resolved to return, I required them to give me two days
only, at the end of which I would give them a letter to Mtesa, which
would absolve them from all blame; that, in the meantime, five hundred
of the Waganda and fifty of my people should be sent out to select a
path to the lake by which the boat, canoe, and loads could be let down
the plateau wall without injury, and to endeavour to discover, on their
arrival at the lake, whether canoes were procurable, to embark the
expedition. This advice pleased the chiefs; and, as no time was to be
lost, at 8 A.M. five hundred Waganda and fifty of our Expedition were
sent, under Lukoma and Manwa Sera, my captain, to the lake, with
instructions to proceed cautiously, and by no means to alarm the natives
of the lake shore. I also led a party of fifty men to explore the
plateau edge for a feasible and safe descent to the lake. The lake lay
below us like a vast mirror, tranquil and blue, except along the shore,
which was marked with a thin line of spluttering surf. The opposite
coast was the high ridge of Usongora, which I should judge to be about
fifteen miles distant, though the atmosphere was not very clear.
Usongora bounds Beatrice Gulf westward.
At noon Lukoma and Manwa Sera returned from the lake and reported that
it would be a difficult job to lower the boat down the precipice of 50
feet, which marked the first descent to the lake, without long and
strong ropes; that the natives in passing up from the salt market on the
lake hoisted their salt-bags, well wrapped in bull-hides, up the
precipice; that no man could either descend or ascend with a load on his
back, as he required the use of both his hands for the climbing. They
also reported that they could only find five small fishing canoes, which
would be perfectly useless for the transport of men or goods on the
lake. Great stores of salt had been seen, which had come from Usongora,
and abundance of Indian corn, millet, sweet potatoes, bananas, and
sugarcane had also been seen on the lake shore.
This unwelcome news infused a fever in the minds of the Waganda to be
gone on the instant. Large numbers of natives, posted on the summit of
every hill around us, added to the fear which took possession of the
minds of the Waganda, and rumours were spread about by malicious men of
an enormous force advancing from the south for the next day’s fight.
This urged the Waganda to pack up large stores of sweet potatoes for
their return journey through the wilderness of Ankori. The members of
the Expedition even caught the panic, and prepared in silence to follow
the Waganda, as common-sense informed them, that, if a force of over
2000 fighting men did not consider itself strong enough to maintain its
position, our Expedition consisting of 180 men could by no means do so.
They were observed openly preparing for flight, before any commands had
been issued to that effect, or even the alternative had been discussed.
Others wandered off to mix with gadding crowds of Waganda, well disposed
in mind to participate in their fears.
The Wangwana captains of the Expedition, extremely depressed in
spirit, came to me in the afternoon, and requested to know what I had
determined upon. I informed them that I hoped to be able to bribe
Sambuzi with one-fourth of the entire property of the Expedition to
stay by us two days, during which time I hoped to be able to lower the
boat and canoe down the cliffs, and launch them on the Nyanza, by which
I could free sixty soldiers from encumbrances, to act as guard for the
land party. The boat and canoe would follow the coast line, to act as
auxiliaries to the land party, in case of attack, or to transport them
across rivers, until we should arrive in the neighbourhood of some
uninhabited island, to which place of safety the Expedition might be
conveyed, until exploration should discover more peaceable lands or
other means of prosecuting our journey. The captains approved this
method of meeting the danger which threatened us.
At 5 P.M. a messenger from Sambuzi called me to a council, at which all
of his chief men were present, to discuss what advantages we possessed
for offence and defence, for meeting the danger or for flight. Sabadu
the captain of the detachment of Mtesa’s bodyguard with us, was called
upon to speak, which he did with all the cowardly malice of a Thersites.
Every hint that could damp a virtuous resolution to obey Mtesa’s
commands was thrown out with all the effect that his position as chief
of the bodyguard and his supposed influence with the Emperor lent his
opinions, and he confidently assumed the power to charm away the anger
of his dread master, and turn it upon the head of Kabba Rega, the king
of Unyoro. Bugomba, the brother of the Premier of Uganda, though only a
lad of sixteen, having far more influence in this council, and far more
ability than would possibly be believed by Europeans, seconded Sabadu in
an assumed humble voice, and what Sabadu had neglected to urge, youthful
Bugomba, the Emperor’s page, adroitly threw in, and thus clenched the
argument for absolute and immediate flight.
The council heard him with great approval, and many were of the opinion
that it would be best to fly at once, without waiting for night or for
morning. Lukoma and Sekajugu, the colonels under Sambuzi, gravely
besought Sambuzi to think well of the numbers that would certainly
oppose us in the battle next day; to remember that we were far from
assistance, if overcome; that all the advantages of war were on the side
of the enemy. The enemy would fight on his own soil, and mindful that he
was fighting for his own home. If repulsed the first day the enemy would
come again in greater numbers than ever, and each day, as the bruit of
war should spread and time gained, the whole strength of Unyoro, a
country as large as Uganda, would be drawn to dislodge and massacre us.
However, Sambuzi, was their general and chief, and if he thought it best
to stand by “Stamlee,” they would stand by their chief to the death.
Sambuzi then asked me to speak. Wrath almost choked my speech, for I
felt bitterly angry that I should be asked to speak when they were all
so resolved to act contrary to the object and purpose of the journey
that even fear of the Emperor was not sufficient to induce them to stay,
and that a chief like Sambuzi, of such experience and acknowledged
bravery, should stoop to listen to boys like Bugomba and such men as
Sabadu. However, I summoned up my patience, and said: “I do not see much
use in my saying anything, because I know you will act against all
advice I can give; but, that you may not blame me for not giving the
advice, and pointing out the danger you run into in returning, I will
speak. You, Sambuzi, at Laugurwe, told me you were not a child, but a
man. If you are a man how comes it that you allow a boy like Bugomba,
whose fears have run away with his wits, to speak in a council of tried
warriors such as I see here? Do you think that Bugomba can save your
head when the Emperor hears of your cowardly flight? No; that boy’s love
which he professes to have for you, will fly when he sees the frown on
Mtesa’s face. Will the Katekiro stand by you because you love his
brother Bugomba? No; the Premier will scourge Bugomba, and be the first
to slay you. If you are a man and a chief, why is it that you listen to
this slave Sabadu, who no more dares approach the footstool of Mtesa
than he would dare meet the Wanyoro to-morrow in battle? Is Sabadu the
chief and general of the Waganda, or is it Sambuzi, the chief who fought
so well at Uvuma? If your chiefs, Lukoma and Sekajugu, advise you to run
away, you do wrong to listen to them, for it is not they whom Mtesa will
punish, but you. I therefore, as your friend, advise you to stay here
two days, while I fix the boat and canoe. At the end of two days I will
write a letter to Mtesa, which will absolve you from all blame; and if
you so far concede to me two days, I will give one-fourth of my moneys—
nay, I will give one-half of all beads, wire, and cloth I have to you,
with which you may reward yourself and your friends. Be not afraid of
the Wanyoro; to-night we can build a palisade so strong that, were Kabba
Rega himself here, he could do nothing against us. There is no great
danger in staying a couple of days, but in returning to Uganda without
my letter you go to certain death. I have spoken.”
After a little pause, during which he interchanged some remarks with
his people, Sambuzi said: “Stamlee, you are my friend, the Emperor’s
friend, and a son of Uganda, and I want to do my duty towards you as
well as I am able to; but you must hear the truth. We cannot do what
you want us to do. We cannot wait here two days, nor one day. We shall
fight to-morrow, that is certain; and if you think I speak from fear,
you shall see me handle the spear. These people know me from past
times, and they are well aware that my spear is sharp and fatal. We
shall fight to-morrow at sunrise, and we must cut our way through the
Wanyoro to Uganda. We cannot fight and continue in camp; for once the
war is begun, it is war which will last as long as we are alive—for
these people take no slaves as the Waganda do. Then the only chance for
our lives that I see is to pack up to-night, and to-morrow morning at
sunrise to march and fight our way through them. Now tell me as your
friend what you will do. Will you stop here, or go with us, and try
another road? For I must tell you, if you do not know it and see it for
yourself, that you will never put your boat and the canoe on the Nyanza
at this place. How can you get your boat down the cliffs while you
are fighting, and thousands pressing round you? Even if you reach the
water’s edge, how can you work on her two days, and fight?”
To his questions I replied:—“I knew what your decision would be from
what the Waganda have done on former occasions. When Magassa was sent
with me to Usukuma by the lake, he ran away and left me to fight
Bumbireh alone. When the Waganda were sent with Abdul Assiz Bey (M.
Linant de Bellefonds) to Gondokoro, they followed him as far as Unyoro,
and when they saw the Wanyoro coming, they deserted him, and stole
nearly all his boxes, and Abdul Assiz Bey had to fight his way to
Gondokoro alone. We white men will soon learn that there is no man so
cowardly as a native of Uganda. For your advice I thank you; to-night I
will give you my answer.”
As soon as I left the council, Sambuzi caused the great war-drum to be
sounded for the morrow’s march and expected battle. It also announced to
the anxious members of the Expedition that the Waganda had resolved to
return. On arriving at camp, I saw looks of dismay on each face. I
called Pocock and the captains of the Expedition, and proceeded to
unfold our position and Sambuzi’s intention to return, described to them
what dangers environed us, and what hopes were left, and then asked them
to give their own opinion of the matter freely.
After a long hesitation and silence the gallant and ever faithful
Kachéché spoke and said:—“Master, I do not know what my brothers here
think of the matter, but I see plainly that we have been brought to the
edge of a deep pit, and that the Waganda will push us into it if we do
not follow them. For my part, I have nothing further to say, except that
I will do exactly as you command. Live or die, all is one to me. If you
say, let us go on, and leave the Waganda to return without us, I say so
also; if you say, return, I also say, return. That is my opinion. But I
would like to ask you, if we determine to go on by ourselves, have we
any chance at all of being able to start from this camp, because I see
we are surrounded by natives bent on war? If all these Waganda with our
help are not able to make our position good, how can such a small party
as we are hope to do so? This is what is in my heart, and what I believe
is the cause of the panic in the Expedition. And I will tell you one
thing; when Sambuzi beats the drum to-morrow to march, more than half of
this Expedition will follow him, and you cannot prevent it.”
“Well,” I replied, “this is my decision. I was sent to explore this
lake. When I started from Usukuma, I doubted if I could do it unaided by
Waganda, because there are no people on this lake friendly to strangers;
it was for this reason I requested Mtesa to lend me so large a body of
men. As no friendly port could be found where you might rest while I
navigated the lake in my boat, I thought of taking possession of a port
for a month or two and holding it. The force I relied on now fails me,
and the people are hostile; it therefore only remains for me to return
with Sambuzi, and to try the lake by another road. If no other road can
be found, we must even be content with what we have done.”
The Wangwana outside heard the decision with joy, and shouted, “Please
God, we shall find another road, and the next time we go on work of this
kind we shall do it without Waganda.”
Sambuzi was made acquainted with our resolution, and requested to send
twenty men to assist our wearied men to carry the goods back to Uganda.
At dawn we mustered our forces, and with more form and in better order
than we had entered Unyampaka, prepared to quit our camp on the cliffs
of Muta Nzigé. A thousand spearmen with shields formed the advanced
guard, and a thousand spearmen and thirty picked Wangwana with shields
composed the rear-guard. The goods and Expedition occupied the centre.
The drums and fifes and musical bands announced the signal for the
march.
The natives, whom we expected would have attacked us, contented
themselves with following us at a respectful distance until we were
clear of Uzimba, when, perceiving that our form of march was too compact
for attack, they permitted us to depart in peace.
Our return route was to the southward of that by which we had entered
the lake-land of Uzimba. It penetrated Ankori, and our camp that day was
made at 4 P.M. on the banks of the Rusango river.
_Jan. 15._—On the morning of the 15th, after crossing a low ridge, two
miles in width, we crossed the Katonga coming from the north-west, and
entered Unyoro once more. Our Expedition was the rear-guard this day,
and when within a few miles of Kazinga, in Benga, a furious attack was
made on our rear from an ambuscade, which was in a short time repulsed
without loss to us.
_Jan. 27._—On the 27th we were encamped at Kisossi, in Uganda, a little
east of where Sambuzi had joined us with his force. At this camp we
parted; Sambuzi, or Mta-usa, the Spoiler, to his own land close by, I to
what fortune, or misfortune, had still reserved in store for me and
mine. The “Spoiler” made his cognomen good, for on the road from the
lake he despoiled me of 180 lbs. of variously assorted beads, by failing
to return three loads of beads given him for carriage to Uganda, thus
adding another reason to my dissatisfaction with him.
I halted at Kisossi three days to give the Expedition a little of that
rest they so well deserved. During this time I despatched Kachéché and
two others with a letter to Mtesa, wherein I did not fail to report to
him of the failure of Sambuzi to perform what he had promised me, of his
theft of three bags of beads, and of the strange conduct of Sabadu and
Bugomba.
The effect of my letter on Mtesa and his court, Kachéché informed me a
few days later, when he overtook us at Charugawa, was one of shame,
surprise, and rage. Kachéché was called to the Durzah, and told to
repeat in a loud voice all that had happened between Sambuzi and myself
since we had met at Laugurwe, while Mtesa and his chiefs listened
intently, the recital broken by violent exclamations and ominous
ejaculations from the Emperor.
When Kachéché had ended, Mtesa said, “Do you see now how I am shamed by
my people? This is the third time I have been made to break my word to
white men. But, by the grave of Suna” (a strong oath in Uganda), “my
father, I will teach Sambuzi, and all of you, that you cannot mock
Kabaka! Stamlee went to this lake for my good as well as for his own,
but you see how I am thwarted by a base slave like Sambuzi, who
undertakes to be more than I myself before my guest. When was it I dared
to be so uncivil to my guest as this fellow has been to Stamlee? You,
Saruti,” he said suddenly to the chief of his bodyguard, “take warriors,
and eat up Sambuzi’s country clean, and bring him chained to me.”
Saruti prostrated himself, and swore he would eat the “Spoiler’s” land
clean, and become the “Spoiler” himself, and that Sambuzi should be
brought to him chained like a slave. Yet let it be noted here that
Saruti and Sambuzi were as loving at the Nakaranga camp as two sworn
brothers.
“And you, Katekiro,” said Mtesa, turning his glowing eyes on him, “how
is it that your brother Bugomba—a mere little boy—plays the great man on
duty? Tell me whence he obtained this ‘big head’ of his?”
“My lord” (“Mkama ange”), “Bugomba is a child, and deserves a rod for
this conduct, and I myself will see that he suffers for it.”
“Very well, send for Bugomba, and that long-tongued Sabadu, and bring
them to me at once, and I will see that they never use their tongues
against a guest of mine again.”
“Now, Kachéché,” said Mtesa, “what is Stamlee going to do now? Do you
suppose that, if I give him 100,000 men, under Sekebobo and Mkwenda,
that he will be induced to try the lake Muta Nzigé again?”
“He may, Kabaka, but I do not think he will believe the Waganda again,
for this is twice they have deceived him. Magassa ran away, and Sambuzi
ran away, and he, perhaps, will say Sekebobo will do the same. The
Waganda are very good before you, Kabaka, but when away from you they
forget your commands, and steal people, cattle, and goats,” said
plain-spoken Kachéché.
Sekebobo and Mkwenda sprang to their feet before the Emperor, and said
loudly, “Nay, let us go, Kabaka, and we will cut through the heart of
Kabba Rega of Unyoro, or through Mtambuko, king of Ankori, to the Muta
Nzigé, and all the nations round about shall not drive us back!”
“It is well,” said the Emperor. “Now you, Dallington,” said he to the
English mission pupil left at his court, “write a letter to Stamlee.
Tell him to come to the Katonga once again, and Sekebobo and Mkwenda
with 60,000, even 100,000, shall take him to Muta Nzigé, and stay there
until he has finished his work. Tell him that if these fail him he shall
execute his own pleasure on every chief that returns to Uganda.”
At Charugawa, near the Alexandra Nile, I received Dallington’s letter,
asking me to return and attempt the lake once more.[33] This letter
plunged me into perplexity, but after long and calm deliberation I
decided that it was not safe to trifle away time in this manner;
besides, such an undisciplined force would be uncontrollable, and would
no doubt entail misery on the people. I was also too far from Muta Nzigé
now, and to return for an uncertainty, such as the character of the
Waganda caused me to believe it to be, despite the protestation and
promises of the Emperor, was in my opinion well deserving a fool’s cap.
I accordingly wrote to this effect to Mtesa, and closed the letter with
thanks for his kindness, and a friendly farewell.
Kachéché, on returning from the capital with the Emperor’s letter met
the unfortunate Sambuzi loaded with chains, and the blunt, plain-spoken
soldier, far from pitying him, could not refrain from taunting him with,
“Ah, ha, Sambuzi, you are not so fine as you were a while ago. You are
going to Mtesa to play Kabaka before him; fare you well, Sambuzi.”
Saruti, the “eater,” obtained great spoil, for he was now lord over 200
wives and 300 milch-cows, besides a large, fat district in the Katonga
valley, well populated with lusty, industrious peasants and warriors,
all of whom were from henceforth subject to him.
The final farewell letter to Mtesa terminated our intercourse with the
powerful monarch of Uganda, and concluded our sojourn in that land of
bananas and free entertainment. Henceforth the Expedition should be
governed by one will only, and guided by a single man, who was resolved
not to subject himself or his time to any other man’s caprice, power, or
favour any more.
As we neared the Alexandra Nile, at a place called Ndongo, this virtuous
resolution came near being put to the test, for the unquiet immigrants
settled here proclaimed that we should not pass through until we had
paid something to the chief to obtain his good-will. But, after
receiving a firm refusal they permitted us to cross the Alexandra Nile
without molestation.
Reports and rumours of the breadth and powerful current of the river
called the “Kagera,” the “Kitangule,” and the “Ingezi,” received from
representatives of Uganda, Kiziwa, and Karagwé, some of whom were very
intelligent natives, and professed a perfect knowledge of its course,
had created in me a constant desire to examine the river more carefully
than I had previously done at its exit into Lake Victoria. At the
crossing between bank and bank it was about 450 yards in width; but
about 350 yards of this breadth flowed or oozed, with little current,
amongst sedge, water-cane, and papyrus. The remaining 100 yards was a
powerful and deep body of water, with a current of three knots and a
half an hour. The water had a dull iron colour, yet extremely pure for a
large river, and such as might proceed from some lake at no great
distance off.
The Waganda and Wanyambu of Rumanika’s court style this river the
“Mother of the River at Jinga” (Victoria Nile), but the former have very
wild ideas about its source. They say it issues from Muta Nzigé in
Mpororo, and, flowing south, cuts Ruanda in halves, and, rounding
Kishakka, runs north, dividing Karagwé from Ruanda.
[Illustration:
CANOES AND PADDLES OF AFRICA.
1. Usukuma.
2. Ujiji and Urundi.
3. Unyampaka (Beatrice Gulf.)
4. Manyema, on Luama river.
5. Uganda.
6. Ukerewé.
7. Karagwé, on Alexandra Nile.
8. Arab dhow at Ujiji.
]
Rumanika, king of Karagwé, is no less singular in his theory of the
source of the Alexandra Nile, for he says it issues from Lake Tanganika,
through Urundi. However, these and sundry other reports only roused my
interest in the noble river, and created a greater inclination to pursue
the subject to its ultimate end. For a very few soundings of it enabled
me, after my circumnavigation of Lake Victoria, and on examination of
the several streams emptying into it, to judge this to be the principal
affluent and feeder of the lake.
A journey of fourteen miles southerly across the valley of the Alexandra
from its southern bank brought us to the base of the lofty ranges of
Karagwé. This country comprises all the mountainous ridges between
Usongora on the east and the Alexandra Nile to the west. It appears as
if at a distant epoch these ridges had been connected with the uplands
of Koki and Ankori north, and Ruanda west, but that, as Lake Victoria
had channelled a way for its outlet through the clays and shale of Usoga
and Uganda, and its altitude above the sea had subsided, the furious
current of the Kagera or Alexandra had channelled a deeper course
through the heart of what was formerly a lofty plateau, and that its
thousands of petty tributaries then rushed down into the deep depression
formed by it.
On the 24th of February we were camped at Nakahanga, a village situated
twelve miles west of south of Kiyanga, and the next day, after a march
of thirteen miles, we entered the Arab depot of Kafurro, in Karagwé.
-----
# 31:
At the confluence of the Wakassi with the Katonga, boiling-point
showed an altitude of 4111 feet above the sea, only 18 feet higher
than Ripon Falls!
# 32:
Our camp by boiling-point was at an altitude of 4724 feet above the
sea.
# 33:
The following is the epistle verbatim:—
“MY DEAR SIR, H. M. STANLEY,
“What meant by his news that we see Sabadu coming without a letter in
time? He came first. I asked him, ‘Where is the letter that you
brought?’ So he answered me, ‘The letter is my mouth’; but I believed
not in his words. Then went I to the Sûltan and told him these things.
Then the Sûltan called Sabadu and asked him, ‘Where is the letter?’
and he answered, ‘There is no letter.’ So he send him to Pokino—the
Katekiro; but I who know in my heart that they been run away from you.
So now he send others people instead of them, and he go to punish
Sambuzi. It is far better for you to waite for Waganda to take you to
Mutanzige, because they see that Sambuzi been punished, and all the
others will obey the word of the king. I, Dallington, the servant of
wite men, I won’t tell you lie, but I will tell you the truth. The
Sûltan (Mtesa) is not bad. This letter I write it in a hurry, and send
me two or three papers to write the last to you.
“SEYYID MTESA.
“Son of Sûltan Suna of Uganda,
“January 30th, 1876.”
CHAPTER XVII.
Kafurro and its magnates—Lake Windermere—Rumanika, the gentle king of
Karagwé—His country—The Ingezi—Among the mosquitoes—Ihema Island—The
triple cone of Ufumbiro—Double-horned rhinoceros—The hot springs of
Mtagata—The Geographical Society of Karagwé—The philosophy of noses—
Rumanika’s thesauron—Some new facts about the rhinoceros and elephant—
Uhimba—Paganus, _var._ esuriens—Retrospect.
_Feb. 25._—Kafurro owes its importance to being a settlement of two or
three rich Arab traders, Hamed Ibrahim, Sayid bin Sayf, and Sayid the
Muscati. It is situated within a deep hollow or valley fully 1200 feet
below the tops of the surrounding mountains, and at the spring source of
a stream flowing east and afterwards north to the Alexandra Nile.
Hamed Ibrahim is rich in cattle, slaves, and ivory. Assuming his own
figures to be correct, he possesses 150 cattle, bullocks, and milch
cows, forty goats, 100 slaves, and 450 tusks of ivory, the greater part
of which last is reported to be safely housed in the safe keeping of his
friend the chief of Urangwa in Unyamwezi.
Hamed has a spacious and comfortable gable-roofed house. He has a number
of concubines, and several children. He is a fine, gentlemanly-looking
Arab, of a light complexion, generous and hospitable to friends, liberal
to his slaves, and kind to his women. He has lived eighteen years in
Africa, twelve of which have been spent in Karagwé. He knew Suna, the
warlike Emperor of Uganda, and father of Mtesa. He has travelled to
Uganda frequently, and several times made the journey between Unyanyembé
and Kafurro. Having lived so long in Karagwé, he is friendly with
Rumanika, who, like Mtesa, loves to attract strangers to his court.
Hamed has endeavoured several times to open trade with the powerful
Empress of Ruanda, but has each time failed. Though some of his slaves
succeeded in reaching the imperial court, only one or two managed to
effect their escape from the treachery and extraordinary guile practised
there. Nearly all perished by poison.
He informed me that the Empress was a tall woman of middle age, of an
almost light Arab complexion, with very large brilliant eyes. Her son,
the prince, a boy of about eighteen, had some years ago committed
suicide by drinking a poisonous potion, because his mother had cast some
sharp cutting reproaches upon him, which had so wounded his sensitive
spirit that, he said, “nothing but death would relieve him.”
Hamed is of the belief that these members of the imperial family are
descendants of some light-coloured people to the north, possibly Arabs;
“for how,” asked he, “could the king of Kishakka possess an Arab
scimitar, which is a venerated heir-loom of the royal family, and the
sword of the founder of that kingdom?”
“All these people,” said he, “about here are as different from the
ordinary Washensi—pagans—as I am different from them. I would as soon
marry a woman of Ruanda as I would a female of Muscat. When you go to
see Rumanika, you will see some Wanya-Ruanda, and you may then judge for
yourself. The people of that country are not cowards. Mashallah! they
have taken Kishakka, Muvari, and have lately conquered Mpororo. The
Waganda measured their strength with them, and were obliged to retreat.
The Wanya-Ruanda are a great people, but they are covetous, malignant,
treacherous, and utterly untrustworthy. They have never yet allowed an
Arab to trade in their country, which proves them to be a bad lot. There
is plenty of ivory there, and during the last eight years Khamis bin
Abdullah, Tippu-Tib, Sayid bin Habib, and I myself have attempted
frequently to enter there, but none of us has ever succeeded. Even
Rumanika’s people are not allowed to penetrate far, though he permits
everybody to come into his country, and he is a man of their own blood
and their own race, and speaks with little difference their own
language.”
Hamed Ibrahim was not opening out very brilliant prospects before me,
nevertheless I resolved to search out in person some known road to this
strange country that I might make a direct course to Nyangwé.
_Feb. 28._—On the third day after arrival, the king having been informed
of my intended visit, Hamed Ibrahim and Sayid bin Sayf accompanied me on
an official visit to Rumanika, king of Karagwé, and a tributary of
Mtesa, Emperor of Uganda.
Kafurro, according to aneroid, is 3950 feet above the ocean. Ascending
the steep slope of the mountain west of Kafurro, we gained an altitude
of 5150 feet, and half an hour afterwards stood upon a ridge 5350 feet
above the sea, whence we obtained a most grand and imposing view. Some
600 feet below us was a grassy terrace overlooking the small Windermere
Lake, 1000 feet below, its placid surface rivalling in colour the azure
of the cloudless heaven. Across a narrow ridge we looked upon the broad
and papyrus-covered valley of the Alexandra, whilst many fair, blue
lakelets north and south, connected by the winding silver line of the
Alexandra Nile, suggested that here exploring work of a most interesting
character was needed to understand the complete relations of lake,
river, and valley to one another.
Beyond the broad valley rose ridge after ridge, separated from each
other by deep parallel basins, or valleys, and behind these, receding
into dim and vague outlines, towered loftier ridges. About sixty miles
off, to the north-west, rose a colossal sugar-loaf clump of enormous
altitude, which I was told was the Ufumbiro mountains. From their
northern base extended Mpororo country and to the south, Ruanda.
At the northern end of the Windermere Lake, an irregular range, which
extends north to Ugoi, terminates in the dome-like Mount Isossi. South
of where I stood, and about a mile distant, was the bold mount of
Kazwiro, and about thirty miles beyond it I could see the irregular and
confused masses of the Kishakka mountains.
On the grassy terrace below us was situated Rumanika’s village, fenced
round by a strong and circular stockade, to which we now descended after
having enjoyed a noble and inspiriting prospect.
Our procession was not long in attracting hundreds of persons,
principally youths, all those who might be considered in their boyhood
being perfectly nude.
“Who are these?” I inquired of Sheikh Hamed.
“Some of the youngest are sons of Rumanika, others are young
Wanya-Ruanda,” he replied.
The sons of Rumanika, nourished on a milk diet, were in remarkably good
condition. Their unctuous skins shone as though the tissues of fat
beneath were dissolving in the heat, and their rounded bodies were as
taut as a drum-head. Their eyes were large, and beaming and lustrous
with life, yet softened by an extreme gentleness of expression. The
sculptor might have obtained from any of these royal boys a dark model
for another statue to rival the classic Antinous.
As we were followed by the youths, who welcomed us with a graceful
curtesy, the appropriate couplet came to my mind—
“Thrice happy race! that innocent of blood,
From milk innoxious, seek their simple food.”
We were soon ushered into the hut wherein Rumanika sat expectant, with
one of the kindliest, most paternal smiles it would be possible to
conceive.
I confess to have been as affected by the first glance at this venerable
and gentle pagan as though I gazed on the serene and placid face of some
Christian patriarch or saint of old, whose memory the Church still holds
in reverence. His face reminded me of a deep still well; the tones of
his voice were so calm that unconsciously they compelled me to imitate
him, while the quick, nervous gestures and the bold voice of Sheikh
Hamed, seeming entirely out of place, jarred upon me.
It was no wonder that the peremptory and imperious, vivid-eyed Mtesa
respected and loved this sweet-tempered pagan. Though they had never
met, Mtesa’s pages had described him, and with their powers of mimicry
had brought the soft modulated tones of Rumanika to his ears as truly as
they had borne his amicable messages to him.
What greater contrasts can be imagined than the natures of the Emperor
Mtesa and the King Rumanika? In some of his volcanic passions Mtesa
seemed to be Fury personified, and if he were represented on the stage
in one of his furious moods, I fear that the actor would rupture a
blood-vessel, destroy his eyes, and be ever afterwards afflicted with
madness. The Waganda always had recourse to action and gesture to
supplement their verbal description of his raging fits. His eyes, they
said, were “balls of fire and large as fists,” while his words were
“like gunpowder.”
Nature, which had endowed Mtesa with a nervous and intense temperament,
had given Rumanika the placid temper, the soft voice, the mild
benignity, and pleasing character of a gentle father.
The king appeared to me, clad as he was in red blanket cloth, when
seated, a man of middle size, but when he afterwards stood up, he rose
to the gigantic stature of 6 feet 6 inches or thereabouts, for the top
of my head, as we walked side by side, only reached near his shoulders.
His face was long, and his nose somewhat Roman in shape; the profile
showed a decidedly refined type.
Our interview was very pleasing, and he took excessive interest in every
question I addressed to him. When I spoke, he imposed silence on his
friends, and leaned forward with eager attention. If I wished to know
anything about the geography of the country, he immediately sent for
some particular person who was acquainted with that portion, and
inquired searchingly of him as to his knowledge. He chuckled when he saw
me use my note-book, as though he had some large personal interest in
the number of notes I took. He appeared to be more and more delighted as
their bulk increased, and triumphantly pointed out to the Arabs the
immense superiority of the whites to them.
[Illustration: LUMANIKA’S TREASURE-HOUSE.]
He expressed himself as only too glad that I should explore his country.
It was a land, he said, that white men ought to know. It possessed many
lakes and rivers, and mountains and hot springs, and many other things,
which no other country could boast of.
“Which do you think best, Stamlee—Karagwé or Uganda?”
“Karagwé is grand, its mountains are high, and its valleys deep. The
Kagera is a grand river, and the lakes are very pretty. There are more
cattle in Karagwé than in Uganda, except Uddu and Koki; and game is
abundant. But Uganda is beautiful and rich; its banana plantations are
forests, and no man need to fear starvation, and Mtesa is good—and so is
Father Rumanika,” I replied smiling to him.
“Do you hear him, Arabs? Does he not speak well? Yes, Karagwé is
beautiful,” he sighed contentedly. “But bring your boat up and place it
on the Rweru (lake), and you can go up the river as far as Kishakka, and
down to Morongo (the falls), where the water is thrown against a big
rock and leaps over it, and then goes down to the Nianja of Uganda.
Verily, my river is a great one; it is the mother of the river at Jinga
(Ripon Falls). You shall see all my land; and when you have finished the
river, I will give you more to see—Mtagata’s hot springs!”
_March 6._—By the 6th of March, Frank had launched the boat from the
landing at Kazinga village on the waters of the Windermere Lake,[34] or
the Rweru of Rumanika, and the next day Rumanika accompanied me in state
to the water. Half-a-dozen heavy anklets of bright copper adorned his
legs, bangles of the same metal encircled his wrists, a robe of crimson
flannel was suspended from his shoulders. His walking-staff was 7 feet
in length, and his stride was a yard long. Drummers and fifers
discoursing a wild music, and fifty spearmen, besides his sons and
relatives, Wanya-Ruanda, Waganda, Wasui, Wanyamwezi, Arabs, and
Wangwana, followed us in a mixed multitude.
Four canoes manned by Wanyambu were at hand to race with our boat, while
we took our seats on the grassy slopes of Kazinga to view the scene. I
enjoined Frank and the gallant boat’s crew to exert themselves for the
honour of us Children of the Ocean, and not to permit the Children of
the Lakes to excel us.
A boat and canoe race on the Windermere of Karagwé, with 1200
gentle-mannered natives gazing on! An African international affair!
Rumanika was in his element; every fibre of him tingled with joy at
the prospective fun. His sons, seated around him, looked up into their
father’s face, their own reflecting his delight. The curious natives
shared in the general gratification.
The boat-race was soon over; it was only for about 800 yards, to
Kankorogo Point. There was not much difference in the speed, but it gave
immense satisfaction. The native canoemen, standing up with their long
paddles, strained themselves with all their energy, stimulated by the
shouts of their countrymen, while the Wangwana on the shore urged the
boat’s crew to their utmost power.
_March 8._—The next day we began the circumnavigation of the Windermere.
The extreme length of the lake during the rainy season is about eight
miles, and its extreme breadth two and a half. It lies north and south,
surrounded by grass-covered mountains which rise from 1200 to 1500 feet
above it. There is one island called Kankorogo, situated midway between
Mount Isossi and the extreme southern end. I sounded three times, and
obtained depths of 48, 44, and 45 feet respectively at different points.
The soil of the shores is highly ferruginous in colour, and, except in
the vicinity of the villages, produces only euphorbia, thorny gum,
acacia, and aloetic plants.
_March 9._—On the 9th we pulled abreast of Kankorogo Island, and,
through a channel from 500 to 800 yards wide, directed our course to the
Kagera, up which we had to contend against a current of two knots and a
half an hour.
The breadth of the river varied from 50 to 100 yards. The average depth
of all the ten soundings we made on this day was 52 feet along the
middle; close to the papyrus walls, which grew like a forest above us,
was a depth of 9 feet. Sometimes we caught a view of hippopotamus creeks
running up for hundreds of yards on either side through the papyrus. At
Kagayyo, on the left bank, we landed for a short time to take a view of
the scene around, as, while in the river, we could see nothing except
the papyrus, the tops of the mountain ridge of Karagwé, and the sky.
We then learned for the first time the true character of what we had
imagined to be a valley when we gazed upon it from the summit of the
mountain between Kafurro and Rumanika’s capital.
The Ingezi, as the natives called it, embraces the whole space from the
base of the mountains of Muvari to that of the Karagwé ridges with the
river called Kagera, the Funzo or the papyrus, and the Rwerus or lakes,
of which there are seventeen, inclusive of Windermere. Its extreme width
between the bases of the opposing mountains is nine miles; the narrowest
part is about a mile, while the entire acreage covered by it from
Morongo or the falls in Iwanda, north to Uhimba, south, is about 350
square miles. The Funzo or papyrus covers a depth of from 9 feet to 14
feet of water. Each of the several lakes has a depth of from 20 to 65
feet, and they are all connected, as also is the river, underneath the
papyrus.
When about three miles north of Kizinga, at 5 P.M., we drew our boat
close to the papyrus, and prepared for a night’s rest, and the Wanyambu
did the same.
The boat’s crew crushed down some of the serest papyrus, and, cutting
off the broom-like tops, spread their mats upon the heap thus made,
flattering themselves that they were going to have a cozy night of it.
Their fires they kindled between three stalks, which sustained their
cooking-pots. It was not a very successful method, as the stalks had to
be replaced frequently; but finally their bananas were done to a turn.
At night, however, mosquitoes of a most voracious species attacked them
in dense multitudes, and nothing but the constant flip-flap of the
papyrus tops mingled with complaints that they were unable to sleep were
heard for an hour or two. They then began to feel damp, and finally wet,
for their beds were sinking into the depths below the papyrus, and they
were compelled at last to come into the boat, where they passed a most
miserable night, for the mosquitoes swarmed and attacked them until
morning with all the pertinacity characteristic of these hungry
bloodsuckers.
[Illustration: A NATIVE OF UHHA.]
_March 10._—The next day, about noon, we discovered a narrow, winding
creek, which led us to a river-like lake, five miles in length, out of
which, through another creek, we punted our boats and canoes to the
grazing island of Unyamubi.
From a ridge which was about 50 feet above the Ingezi we found that we
were about four miles from Kishakka and a similar distance due east from
a point of land projecting from Muvari.
_March 11._—The next day we ascended the Kagera about ten miles, and
returning fourteen miles entered Ihema Lake, a body of water about 50
square miles, and camped on Ihema Island, about a mile from Muvari.
The natives of Ihema Island stated to me that Lake Muta Nzigé was only
eleven days’ journey from the Muvari shores, and that the Wanya-Ruanda
frequently visited them to obtain fish in exchange for milk and
vegetables. They also stated that the Mworongo—or, as others called it,
Nawarongo—river flows through the heart of Ruanda from the Ufumbiro
mountains, and enters the Kagera in a south-west by west direction from
Ihema: that the Akanyaru was quite a large lake, a three days’ journey
round in canoes, and separated Ruanda, Uhha, and Urundi from each other;
that there was an island in the midst, where canoes leaving Uhha were
accustomed to rest at night, arriving in Ruanda at noon.
They were a genial people those islanders of Ihema, but they were
subject to two painful diseases, leprosy and elephantiasis. The island
was of a shaly substructure, covered with a scant depth of alluvium. The
water of the Lake Ihema was good and sweet to the taste, though, like
all the waters of the Alexandra Nile, distinguished for its dull brown
iron colour.
We began from the extreme south end of the lake the next day to coast
along the Muvari or Ruanda coast, and near a small village attempted to
land, but the natives snarled like so many spiteful dogs, and drew their
bows, which compelled us—being guests of Rumanika—to sheer off and leave
them in their ferocious exclusiveness.
Arriving at the Kagera again, we descended it, and at 7 P.M. were in our
little camp of Kasinga, at the south end of Windermere.
On the 11th we rowed into the Kagera, and descended the river as far as
Ugoi, and on the evening of the 12th returned once more to our camp on
Windermere.
_March 13._—The next day, having instructed Frank to convey the boat to
Kafurro, I requested Rumanika to furnish me with guides for the Mtagata
hot springs, and faithful to his promise, thirty Wanyambu were detailed
for the service.
Our route lay north along the crest of a lofty ridge between Kafurro and
Windermere. Wherever we looked, we beheld grassy ridges, grassy slopes,
grassy mountain summits, and grassy valleys—an eminently pastoral
country. In a few gorges or ravines the dark tops of trees are seen.
When Windermere Lake and Isossi, its northern mount, were south of us,
we descended into a winding grassy valley, and in our march of ten miles
from Isossi to Kasya I counted thirty-two separate herds of cattle,
which in the aggregate probably amounted to 900 head. We also saw seven
rhinoceroses, three of which were white, and four a black brown. The
guides wished me to shoot one, but I was scarce of ammunition, and as I
could not get a certain shot, I was loath to wound unnecessarily, or
throw away a cartridge.
[Illustration: VIEW OF UFUMBIRO MOUNTAINS FROM MOUNT NEAR MTAGATA HOT
SPRINGS.]
_March 14._—The next day, at 8 A.M., near the end of the valley, we came
to Meruré Lake, which is about two miles long, and thence, crossing
three different mountains, arrived at Kiwandaré mountain, and from its
summit, 5600 feet above the sea, obtained a tolerably distinct view of
the triple cone of Ufumbiro, in a west-north-west direction, Mag. I
should estimate the distance from Kiwandaré to Ufumbiro to be about
forty-five miles, and about sixty miles from the mountain height above
Rumanika’s capital. Several lines of mountains, with lateral valleys
between, rose between the valley of the Alexandra Nile and Ufumbiro.
From Kiwandaré we descended gradually along its crest to a lower
terrace. About 5 P.M. one of our party sighted a dark brown
double-horned rhinoceros, and as we had no meat, and the nature of the
ground permitted easy approach, I crept up to within fifty yards of it
unperceived and sent in a zinc bullet close to the ear, which bowled it
over dead.
The quantity of meat obtained from the animal was more than would supply
the eighteen men, Wangwana, of my party; therefore, acceding to their
wish, we camped on the spot, exposed to the chilly mountain winds, which
visited us during the night. The men, however, continued to pick up
abundance of fuel from a wooded gorge close by, and, engaged in the
interesting and absorbing task of roasting meat before many blazing
fires, did not suffer greatly.
_March 15._—At 9 A.M. the next day we descended to the wooded gorge of
Mtagata, having travelled thirty-five miles almost due north from
Kafurro.
This gorge is formed by an angle where the extreme northern end of
Kiwandaré mountain meets a transverse ridge. It is filled with tall
trees which have been nourished to a gigantic size and density of
foliage by the warm vapours from the springs and the heated earth. A
thick undergrowth of plants, llianes, and creepers of all sizes has
sprung up under the shade of the aspiring trees, and the gloom thus
caused within the gorge is very striking. I imagine a person would find
it a most eerie place at night alone. Great baboons and long-tailed
monkeys roared and chattered in the branches, causing the branches to
sway and rustle as they chased one another from tree to tree.
At the time of our visit the springs were frequented by invalids from
Iwanda, Ngoi, Kiziwa, Usongora, and Usui, for, as may be believed, they
have obtained a great repute throughout the districts of Karagwé and
neighbouring countries.
The springs are six in number, and at their extreme source they had,
when I tested them, a temperature of 129½° Fahr. The bathing pools,
which are about 12 feet in diameter, and from 2 to 5 feet deep, showed a
temperature of 110° Fahr., except one on the extreme north, which was
only 107° Fahr.
I bottled eight ounces of water from one of these springs, and on
arriving in London sent it to Messrs. Savory and Moore, the well-known
chemists, 143 Bond Street, who in a few days kindly returned me the
following analysis:—
“The fluid was clear, colourless, and odourless; on standing at rest,
a small quantity of red granular matter was deposited.
“Examined chemically, it was found to have a faint alkaline reaction,
and its specific gravity, corrected to 60° F., was 1004, water being
considered 1000.
“One hundred grammes evaporated left a white crystalline residue,
weighing ·37 of a gramme, and it was composed of sodium carbonate,
calcium carbonate, calcium sulphate and sodium chlorine; this order
represents their proportions, sodium carbonate being the chief
constituent, and the other salts existing in more minute quantities.
“The deposit was removed and examined microchemically: it was thus
found to consist of ferruginous sand, and two minute pieces of
vegetable cellulose.
“It was therefore a faintly alkaline water, and its alkalinity
depended on the presence of sodium carbonate possibly existing in
solution as bicarbonate, as the water held in solution carbonic acid
gas, and this gas was evolved by heating the water.”
The natives praised the water of these springs so highly that I resolved
to stay three days to test in my own person what virtues it possessed. I
drank an enormous quantity of the water with a zealous desire to be
benefited, but I experienced no good—on the contrary, much ill, for a
few days afterwards I suffered from a violent attack of intermittent
fever, occasioned, I fancy, by the malaria inhaled from the tepid
atmosphere. It is true I luxuriated morning and evening in the bath
which was reserved for me by Luajumba, son of Rumanika, but that was all
the advantage that accrued to me.
Patients suffering from cutaneous diseases profit rapidly from, I
believe, the unusual cleanliness; and during the few days we camped here
numbers of natives came and went, and merriment and cleansing, bathing
and lounging, music and barbarous chanting, kept awake the echoes of the
gorge.
Our stay at the springs was cheered also by the presence of Luajumba,
who, following the example of his father Rumanika, was hospitable and
bland in his manners. An ox, two goats, ten fowls, besides bananas,
sweet potatoes and flour, and fourteen large gourdfuls of maramba were
received with thanks and paid for.
_March 18._—On the 18th of March we set out on our return to Kafurro
from the hot springs, and on the road I shot a white rhinoceros, which
the people soon cut up to convey to their comrades. On the 19th we
arrived at Kafurro, each of the Wangwana being loaded with over twenty
lbs. of meat.
_March 21._—After two days’ rest I paid another visit to Rumanika, where
we had a great geographical discussion. It is unnecessary to describe
the information I had to give Rumanika respecting the geographical
distribution of tribes and races over the Dark Continent, but conscious
that the geographical world will take an interest in what Rumanika and
the native travellers at his court imparted, I here append, verbatim,
the notes I took upon the spot.
Hamed Ibrahim spoke and said:—
“My slaves have travelled far, and they say that the Ni-Nawarongo
River rises on the west side of Ufumbiro mountains, takes a wide sweep
through Ruanda, and enters Akanyaru, in which lake it meets the Kagera
from the south. United they then empty from the lake between Uhha and
Kishakka, and flowing between Karagwé and Ruanda, go into the Nianza
(Nyanza).
“The Rwizi River, also rising at the northern base of the Ufumbiro
cones, in Mpororo, flows through Igara, then Shema, then Ankori, into
the king of Koki’s (Luampula) lake, and becoming the Chibarré or
Kiwaré River, joins the Kagera below Kitangulé.
“If you proceed toward sunset from Mpororo, you will see Muta Nzigé,
the Nianza of Unyoro. There are many large islands in it. Utumbi is a
country of islands, and the natives are very good, but you cannot
proceed through Mpororo, as the people are Shaitans—devils—and the
Wanya-Ruanda are wicked; and because something happened when Wangwana
first tried to go there, they never tolerate strangers. A strange
people, and full of guile verily.
“West of Ruanda is a country called Mkinyaga, and there is a large
lake there, so I have heard—no Arabs have ever been there.”
Then a native of Western Usui, at the request of Rumanika, said:—
“Mkinyaga is west of Kivu Lake or Nianja Cha Ngoma, from which the
Rusizi River flows into the lake of Uzigé (Tanganika). To reach
Mkinyaga, you must pass through Unyambungu first, then you will see
the great Lake of Mkinyaga. Lake Kivu has a connection with the lake
Akanyaru, though there is much grass, as in the Ingezi, below here. A
canoe could almost reach Kivu from Kishakka, but it would be hard
work.
“Akanyaru, which the Wahha call Nianja Cha-Ngoma, is very wide. It
will take a day and a half to cross, and is about two or three days’
canoe journey in length. It lies between Ruanda, Uhha, and Urundi. The
Kagera coming from between Uhha and Urundi flows into it. The
Nawarongo empties into the Ruvuvu between Ugufu and Kishakka. The
Ruvuvu between Kishakka and Karagwé enters the Kagera; the Kagera
comes into the Ingezi, and flows by Kitangulé into the Nianja of
Uganda; Kivu lake is west-south-west from Kibogora’s capital, in West
Usui. Kivu has no connection with Muta Nzigé, the lake of Unyoro.”
Then a native of Zanzibar who had accompanied Khamis bin Abdallah to
North-Western Uhha said:—
“I have been west of King Khanza’s Uhha, and I saw a large lake. Truly
there is much water there. Urundi was to my left. Ruanda fronted me
across, and I stood on Uhha.”
Rumanika followed, and imparted at length all his information, of which
I append only the pith:—
“Leaving Mpororo, you may reach by canoes Makinda’s, in Utumbi, in
half a day. The island is called Kabuzzi. Three hours will take a
canoe thence to Karara Island, and from Karara Island another half-day
will take you to Ukonju, where there is a tribe of cannibals.
“Mkinyaga is at the end of Ruanda, and its lake is Muta Nzigé, on
which you can go to Unyoro. There is a race of dwarfs somewhere west
of Mkinyaga called the Mpundu, and another called the Batwa or Watwa,
who are only two feet high. In Uriambwa is a race of small people with
tails.
“Uitwa, or Batwa—Watwa, is at the extreme south end of Uzongora.
“From Butwa, at the end of a point of land in Ruanda, you can see
Uitwa, Usongora.
“From Butwa, Mkinyaga is to the left of you about three days’ journey.
“Some of the Waziwa saw a strange people in one of those far-off lands
who had long ears descending to their feet; one ear formed a mat to
sleep on, the other served to cover him from the cold like a dressed
hide! They tried to coax one of them to come and see me, but the
journey was long, and he died on the way.”
Dear old Rumanika, how he enjoyed presiding over the Geographical
Society of Karagwé, and how he smiled when he delivered this last
extraordinary piece of Münchhausenism! He was determined that he should
be considered as the best informed of all present, and anticipated with
delight the pleasure old and jaded Europe would feel upon hearing of
these marvellous fables of Equatorial Africa. He was also ambitious to
witness my note-book filled with his garrulity, and I fear he was a
little disposed to impose upon the credulity of sober Christians.
However, with this remark of caution to the reader, his fables may be
rendered harmless, and we can accord him thanks for his interesting
information.
Since I am publishing these geographical items, I may as well append
here, also in brief, some other information obtained elsewhere relating
to Muta Nzigé from a native of Usongora, whom we found at Kawanga with
Sekajugu, one of the Watongoleh who accompanied us to Beatrice Gulf.
“When you leave Ruoko in Unyoro, you will have Gambaragara to your
right, and Usagara or Ankori will be on your left. Uzimba, Ruigi’s
country, will be four days’ journey west of you.
“On reaching Uzimba, if you turn to the left you will reach Luhola.
Usongora will be on your right hand.
“On your left will also be Unyampaka, Kasita, Kishakka, Chakiomi,
Nyteré, Buhuju, Makara, Unyamururu, Munya Chambiro, and the Bwambu,
who are cannibals.
“If you go to your right from Ruigi’s, you reach Usongora, Mata, two
days after Nabweru, then Butwa. Standing at Butwa, you will see Ruanda
on the left hand.
“The country of Ruigi is called Uzimba.
“Kitagwenda is the name of the neighbouring country.
“Unyanuruguru lies between Ruanda and Usongora.
“All the Wasongora emigrated from Unyoro.”
The following is information from a native of Unyampaka upon Muta
Nzigé;—
“My king’s name is Bulema. Kashéshé is the great king of Uzimba. Ruigi
is dead. Usongora, as you look towards sunset, will lie before you, as
you stand at Kashéshé’s. To go to Usongora from Kashéshé’s, you go to
Nkoni Island, then to Ihundi Island, and then to Usongora.
“Far to your left, as you face the sunset, you have Utumbi, the
Mahinda, Karara, and Kabuzzi Islands.
“There is abundance of salt in Usongora, and we go from Unyampaka (my
country) to get salt, and sell it to all the country round. Ankori
country does not extend to Muta Nzigé. Buhuju and Unyanuruguru lie
between Ankori and the lake.
“Nyika is king of Gambaragara and Usongora. North of Gambaragara is
Toru, or Tori, country, a part of Unyoro. Kabba Rega is the great king
of all those lands. The medicines (charms) of Unyoro are kept by Nyika
on the top of his high mountain. There are as many white people there
as there are black. On the top there is a little Nianja, and a
straight rock rises high out from the middle. There is plenty of water
falling from the sides of the mountain, sometimes straight down, with
a loud noise. Herds upon herds of cattle, hundreds of them are in
Gambaragara and Usongora. The people of Usongora are great fighters,
they carry three spears and a shield each, and they live on nothing
but milk and potatoes.”
I now proceed to give some “reflections” of a young philosopher of
Uganda, one of the pages of Sambuzi, who had accompanied his master in
the Katekiro’s great raid upon Usongora three years before.
This young lad startled me out of the idea that philosophizing was not a
common gift, or that only members of the white race were remarkable for
their powers of observation, by the following question:—
“Stamlee, how is it, will you tell me, that all white men have long
noses, while all their dogs have very short noses,[35] while almost all
black men have short noses, but their dogs have very long noses?”
A youth of Uganda, thought I, who can propound such a proposition as
that, deserves attention.
“Speak,” I said, “all you know about Muta Nzigé and the Kagera.”
“Good; you see the Kagera, it is broad and deep and swift, and its
water though dark is clear. Where can it come from? There is an
enormous quantity of water in that river. It is the mother of the
river at Jinja, because were it not for this river our Niyanza would
dry up!
“Tell me where it can come from? There is no country large enough to
feed it, because when you reach Rumanika’s it is still a large river.
If you go to Kishakka, farther south, it is still large, and at
Kibogora’s it is still a large river. Urundi is not far, and beyond
that is the Tanganika.
“Tell me, where does the water of the Muta Nzigé go to? It goes into
the Kagera, of course; the Kagera goes into our Niyanza, and the river
at Jinja (Victoria Nile) goes to Kaniessa (Gondokoro). I tell you
truly that this must be the way of it. You saw the Rusango and Mpanga,
did you not, go to Muta Nzigé? Well, there must be many rivers like
that going to Muta Nzigé also. And what river drinks all those rivers
but the Kagera?” he asked triumphantly.
“Usongora is a wonderful land! Its people are brave, and when the
Katekiro, who was accompanied by Mkwenda and Sekebobo’s chiefs, and
some of Kitunzi’s, met them, they were different people from
Gambaragara. They are very tall, long-legged people, and are armed
with spears and shields. They tried every dodge with us. When we stood
on the banks of a river going north, through the Tinka-tinka, like
that in the Katonga, the Wasongora stood on the opposite side and
shouted out to us that they were ready. Sambuzi came near being killed
next day, and we lost many men, but the Katekiro, he does not fight
like other chiefs, he is exceedingly brave, and he wanted to please
Mtesa. We fought six days.
“The Wasongora had a number of large dogs also which they set upon us;
as we drove their cattle towards Gambaragara, the earth shook, springs
of mud leaped up, and the water in the plain was very bitter, and
killed many Waganda; it left a white thing around its borders like
salt.
“We first saw Muta Nzigé as we followed Nyika to the top of his big
mountain in Gambaragara. We could not quite get to the top, it was too
high.” (This is Mount Gordon-Bennett.) “But we could see Usongora, and
a great lake spreading all round it. When we came back with our spoil
to Mtesa, he sent us back a short time afterwards to Ankori, and from
the top of a high mountain near Kibanga (Mount Lawson) we saw Muta
Nzigé again spreading west of us. Oh, it is a grand lake, not so wide
as our Niyanza, but very long. We get all our salt from Usongora, as
Nyika pays tribute to us with so many bags, collected from the plains,
but it is unfit to eat, unless you wash it and clean it.”
This young lad accompanied me to Karagwé, and by his intelligence and
his restless curiosity extracted from the Wanyambu courtiers at King
Rumanika’s information which he delivered to me in the following
manner:—
“Master, I have been asking questions from many Wanyambu, and they say
that you can take a canoe from here to Ujiji, only a certain distance
you will have to drag your canoes by land. They say also that Ndagara,
Rumanika’s father, wishing to trade with the Wajiji, tried to cut a
canal or a ditch for his canoes to pass through. They say also that
Kivu is connected with Akanyaru, and that the Rusizi leaves Kivu and
goes to Tanganika through Uzigé, but the Kagera comes through Karagwé
towards Uganda. Do you believe it?”
To close the interesting day, Rumanika requested Hamed Ibrahim to
exhibit the treasure, trophies and curiosities in the king’s museum or
armoury, which Hamed was most anxious to do, as he had frequently
extolled the rare things there.
The armoury was a circular hut, resembling externally a dome thatched
neatly with straw. It was about 30 feet in diameter.
The weapons and articles, of brass and copper and iron, were in perfect
order, and showed that Rumanika did not neglect his treasures.
There were about sixteen rude brass figures of ducks with copper wings,
ten curious things of the same metal which were meant to represent
elands, and ten headless cows of copper. Billhooks of iron, of really
admirable make, double-bladed spears, several gigantic blades of
exceedingly keen edge, 8 inches across and 18 inches in length,
exquisite spears, some with blades and staves of linked iron; others
with chained-shaped staves, and several with a cluster of small rigid
rings massed at the bottom of the blade and the end of the staff;
others, copper-bladed, had curious intertwisted iron rods for the staff.
There were also great fly-flaps set in iron, the handles of which were
admirable specimens of native art; massive cleaver-looking knives with
polished blades and a kedge-anchor-shaped article with four hooked iron
prongs, projecting out of a brass body. Some exquisite native cloths,
manufactured of delicate grass, were indeed so fine as to vie with
cotton sheeting, and were coloured black and red, in patterns and
stripes. The royal stool was a masterpiece of native turnery, being
carved out of a solid log of cotton-wood. Besides these specimens of
native art were drinking-cups, goblets, trenchers and milk dishes of
wood, all beautifully clean. The fireplace was a circular hearth in the
centre of the building, very tastefully constructed. Ranged round the
wall along the floor were other gifts from Arab friends, massive copper
trays, with a few tureen lids of Britannia ware, evidently from
Birmingham. Nor must the revolving rifle given to him by Captain Speke
be forgotten, for it had an honoured place, and Rumanika loves to look
at it, for it recalls to his memory the figures of his genial white
friends Speke and Grant.
The enormous drums, fifty-two in number, ranged outside, enabled us,
from their very appearance, to guess at the deafening sounds which
celebrate the new moon or deliver the signals for war.
[Illustration: GROUND PLAN OF KING’S HOUSE.]
My parting with the genial old man, who must be about sixty years old
now, was very affecting. He shook my hands many times, saying each time
that he was sorry that my visit must be so short. He strictly charged
his sons to pay me every attention until I should arrive at Kibogora’s,
the king of Western Usui, who, he was satisfied, would be glad to see me
as a friend of Rumanika.
_March 26._—On the 26th of March the Expedition, after its month’s rest
at Kafurro, the whole of which period I had spent in exploration of
Western Karagwé, resumed its journey, and after a march of five miles
camped at Nakawanga, near the southern base of Kibonga mountain.
The next day a march of thirteen miles brought us to the northern
extremity of Uhimba lake, a broad river-like body of water supplied by
the Alexandra Nile.
_March 27._—On the 27th I had the good fortune to shoot three
rhinoceroses, from the bodies of which we obtained ample supplies of
meat for our journey through the wilderness of Uhimba. One of these
enormous brutes possessed a horn 2 feet long, with a sharp dagger-like
point below, a stunted horn, 9 inches in length. He appeared to have had
a tussle with some wild beast, for a hand’s breadth of hide was torn
from his rump.
[Illustration: TREASURE HOUSE, ARMS, AND TREASURES OF RUMANIKA.]
The Wangwana and Wanyambu informed me with the utmost gravity that the
elephant maltreats the rhinoceros frequently, because of a jealousy that
the former entertains of his fiery cousin. It is said that if the
elephant observes the excrement of the rhinoceros unscattered, he waxes
furious, and proceeds instantly in search of the criminal, when woe
befall him if he is sulky, and disposed to battle for the proud
privilege of leaving his droppings as they fall! The elephant in that
case breaks off a heavy branch of a tree, or uproots a stout sapling
like a boat’s mast, and belabours the unfortunate beast until he is glad
to save himself by hurried flight. For this reason, the natives say, the
rhinoceros always turns round and thoroughly scatters what he has
dropped.
Should a rhinoceros meet an elephant, he must observe the rule of the
road and walk away, for the latter brooks no rivalry; but the former is
sometimes headstrong, and the elephant then despatches him with his
tusks by forcing him against a tree and goring him, or by upsetting him,
and leisurely crushing him.
At the distance of twenty-six miles from Kafurro we made our third camp
near some wave-worn sheets and protruding humps of brown-veined
porphyry, and close to an arm of the Uhimba lake, which swarmed with
hippopotami.
There were traces of water or wave action on this hard porphyry visible
at about fifty feet above the present level. Some of these humps were
exposed in the water also, and showed similar effects to those observed
behind our camp.
_March 27._—During the next two days we travelled twenty-seven miles
south through a depression, or a longitudinal valley, parallel to Uhimba
lake and the course of the Alexandra, with only an intervening ridge
excluding the latter from our view. Tall truncated hill-cones rise every
now and then with a singular resemblance to each other, to the same
altitude as the grassy ridges which flank them. Their summits are flat,
but the iron-stone faithfully indicates by its erosions the element
which separated them from the ridges, and first furrowed the valley.
Uhimba, placed by Rumanika in the charge of his sons Kakoko, Kananga,
and Ruhinda, is sixty-eight miles south of his capital, and consists of
a few settlements of herdsmen. It was, a few years ago, a debatable land
between Usui and Karagwé, but upon the conquest of Kishakki by Ruanda,
Rumanika occupied it lest his jealous and ill-conditioned rival,
Mankorongo of Usui, should do so.
At this place I met messengers from Mankorongo despatched by him to
invite me to go and see him, and who, with all the impudence
characteristic of their behaviour to the Arabs, declared that if I
attempted to traverse any country in his neighbourhood without paying
him the compliment of a visit, it would be my utter ruin.
They were sent back with a peaceful message, and told to say that I was
bound for Kibogora’s capital, to try and search out a road across Urundi
to the west, and that if I did not succeed I would think of Mankorongo’s
words; at the same time, Mankorongo was to be sure that if I was waylaid
in the forest by any large armed party with a view to intimidation, that
party would be sorry for it.
I had heard of Mankorongo’s extortions from Arabs and Waganda, and how
he had proved himself a worthy successor to the rapacious Swarora, who
caused so much trouble to Speke and Grant.
During the second day of our courteous intercourse with Kakoko, I
ascended a mount some 600 feet high about three miles from camp, to
take bearings of the several features which Kananga was requested
to show me. Five countries were exposed to view, Karagwé, Kishakka,
Ruanda beyond, Ugufu, and Usui. Parallel with Usui was pointed out King
Khanza’s Uhha; beyond Uhha we were told was Urundi, beyond Urundi,
west, the Tanganika and Uzigé, and then nobody knew what lands lay
beyond Uzigé. Akanyaru stretched south of west, between Ruanda, Uhha,
and Urundi; in a south-west direction was said to be Kivu; in a west by
north Mkinyaga, and in the west Unyambungu. Ugufu was separated from
Kishakka by the Nawarongo or Ruvuvu, and from Uhha and Usui by the
Alexandra Nile which came from between Uhha and Urundi. A river of some
size was also said to flow from the direction of Unyambungu into the
Akanyaru.[36]
_March 30._—The next day we entered Western Usui, and camped at
Kafurra’s. In Usui there was a famine, and it required thirty-two doti
of cloth to purchase four days’ rations. Kibogora demanded and obtained
thirty doti, one coil of ware, and forty necklaces of beads as tribute;
Kafurra, his principal chief, demanded ten doti and a quantity of beads;
another chief required five doti; the queen required a supply of cloth
to wear; the princes put in a claim; the guides were loud for their
reward. Thus, in four days, we were compelled to disburse two bales out
of twenty-two, all that were left of the immense store we had departed
with from Zanzibar. Under such circumstances, what prospect of
exploration had we, were we to continue our journey through Uhha, that
land which in 1871 had consumed at the rate of two bales of cloth per
diem? Twenty days of such experience in Uhha would reduce us to beggary.
Its “esurient” Mutwarés and rapacious Mkamas and other extortionate
people can only be quieted with cloth and beads disbursed with a
princely hand. One hundred bales of cloth would only suffice to sustain
a hundred men in Uhha about six weeks. Beyond Uhha lay the impenetrable
countries of Urundi and Ruanda, the inhabitants of which were hostile to
strangers.
Kibogora and Kufurra were sufficiently explicit and amiably
communicative, for my arrival in their country had been under the very
best auspices, viz. an introduction from the gentle and beloved
Rumanika.
I turned away with a sigh from the interesting land, but with a
resolution gradually being intensified, that the third time I sought a
road west nothing should deter me.
_April 7._—On the 7th of April we reluctantly resumed our journey in a
southerly direction, and travelled five miles along a ravine, at the
bottom of which murmured the infant stream Lohugati. On coming to its
source we ascended a steep slope until we stood upon the summit of a
grassy ridge at the height of 5600 feet by aneroid.
Not until we had descended about a mile to the valley of Uyagoma did I
recognize the importance of this ridge as the water-parting between one
of the feeders of Lake Victoria and the source of the Malagarazi, the
principal affluent of Lake Tanganika.
Though by striking across Uhha due west or to the south-west we should
again have reached the Alexandra Nile and the affluents of the Alexandra
Lake, our future course was destined never to cross another stream or
rivulet that supplied the great river which flows through the land of
Egypt into the Mediterranean Sea.
From the 17th of January, 1875, up to the 7th of April, 1876, we had
been engaged in tracing the extreme southern sources of the Nile, from
the marshy plains and cultivated uplands where they are born, down to
the mighty reservoir called the Victoria Nyanza. We had circumnavigated
the entire expanse; penetrated to every bay, inlet, and creek; become
acquainted with almost every variety of wild human nature—the mild and
placable, the ferocious and impracticably savage, the hospitable and the
inhospitable, the generous-souled as well as the ungenerous; we had
viewed their methods of war, and had witnessed them imbruing their hands
in each other’s blood with savage triumph and glee; we had been five
times sufferers by their lust for war and murder, and had lost many men
through their lawlessness and ferocity; we had travelled hundreds of
miles to and fro on foot along the northern coast of the Victorian Sea,
and, finally, had explored with a large force the strange countries
lying between the two lakes Muta Nzigé and the Victoria, and had been
permitted to gaze upon the arm of the lake named by me “Beatrice Gulf,”
and to drink of its sweet waters. We had then returned from farther
quest in that direction, unable to find a peaceful resting-place on the
lake shores, and had struck south from the Katonga lagoon down to the
Alexandra Nile, the principal affluent of the Victoria Lake, which
drains nearly all the waters from the west and south-west. We had made a
patient survey of over one-half of its course, and then, owing to want
of the means to feed the rapacity of the churlish tribes which dwell in
the vicinity of the Alexandra Nyanza, and to our reluctance to force our
way against the will of the natives, opposing unnecessarily our rifles
to their spears and arrows, we had been compelled, on the 7th of April,
to bid adieu to the lands which supply the Nile, and to turn our faces
towards the Tanganika.
I have endeavoured to give a faithful portrayal of nature, animate and
inanimate, in all its strange peculiar phases, as they were unfolded to
us. I am conscious that I have not penetrated to the depths; but then I
have not ventured beyond the limits assigned to me, viz. the Exploration
of the Southern Sources of the Nile, and the solution of the problem
left unsolved by Speke and Grant—Is the Victoria Nyanza[37] one lake, or
does it consist of five lakes, as reported by Livingstone, Burton, and
others? This problem has been satisfactorily solved, and Speke has now
the full glory of having discovered the largest inland sea on the
continent of Africa, also its principal affluent, as well as the outlet.
I must also give him credit for having understood the geography of the
countries he travelled through better than any of those who so
persistently assailed his hypothesis, and I here record my admiration of
the geographical genius that from mere native report first sketched with
such a masterly hand the bold outlines of the Victoria Nyanza.
-----
# 34:
This lake received this name from Captain Speke, because Colonel
Grant, his companion, thought it resembled the Windermere Lake in
England.
# 35:
The young philosopher had observed the broad short noses of my British
bulldog and bull terrier “Jack,” and he had hastily arrived at the
conclusion that all white men’s dogs were pug-nosed.
# 36:
I learned from Warundi and Wazigé, three months later, that the river
that came from the west was the Ruanda, flowing into the Rusizi,
thence into the Tanganika.
# 37:
Speke’s hypothetic sketch made this lake 29,000 square miles in
extent. My survey of it has reduced it to 21,500 square miles.
CHAPTER XVIII.
The twin rivers—Mankorongo baulked of his loot—Poor Bull! True to the
death—Msenna breaks out again—The Terror of Africa appears on the
scene—Mars at peace—“Dig potatoes, potatoes, potatoes”—Mirambo, the
bandit chief, and I make blood-brotherhood—Little kings with “big
heads”—Practical conversion of the chief of Ubagwé—The Watuta, the
Ishmaels of Africa—Their history—African nomenclature—From Msené
across the Malagarazi to Ujiji—Sad memories.
_April 7._—Along the valley of Uyagoma, in Western Usui, stretches east
and west a grass-covered ridge, beautiful in places with rock-strewn
dingles, tapestried with ferns and moss, and bright with vivid foliage.
From two such fair nooks, halfway down either slope, the northern and
the southern, drip in great rich drops the sources of two impetuous
rivers—on the southern the Malagarazi, on the other the Lohugati. Though
nurtured in the same cradle, and issuing within 2000 yards of one
another, the twin streams are strangers throughout their lives. Through
the thick ferns and foliage, the rivulets trickle each down his
appointed slope, murmuring as they gather strength to run their destined
course—the Lohugati to the Victoria Lake, the Malagarazi to distant
Tanganika.
While the latter river is in its infancy, collecting its first tribute
of waters from the rills that meander down from the mountain folds round
the basin of Uyagoma, and is so shallow that tiny children can paddle
through it, the people of Usui call it the Meruzi. When we begin our
journey from Uyagoma, we follow its broadening course for a couple of
hours, through the basin, and by that time it has become a river _nomine
dignum_, and, plunging across it, we begin to breast the mountains,
which, rising in diagonal lines of ridges from north-east to south-west
across Usui, run in broken series into Northern Uhha, and there lose
themselves in a confusion of complicated masses and clumps.
The Meruzi wanders round and through these mountain masses in mazy
curves, tumbles from height to height, from terrace to terrace,
receiving as it goes the alliance of myriads of petty rivulets and
threads of clear water, until, arriving at the grand forest lands of
Unyamwezi, it has assumed the name of Lukoke, and serves as a boundary
between Unyamwezi and Uhha.
Meanwhile we have to cross a series of mountain ridges clothed with
woods; and at a road leading from Kibogora’s land to the territory of
the turbulent and vindictive Mankorongo, successor of Swarora, we meet
an embassy, which demands in a most insolent tone that we should pass by
his village. This means, of course, that we must permit ourselves to be
defrauded of two or three bales of cloth, half-a-dozen guns, a sack or
two of beads, and such other property as he may choose to exact, for the
privilege of lengthening our journey some forty miles, and a delay of
two or three weeks.
The insolent demand is therefore not to be entertained, and we return a
decided refusal. They are not satisfied with the answer, and resort to
threats. Threats in the free, uninhabited forest constitute a _casus
belli_. So the chiefs are compelled to depart without a yard of cloth on
the instant, and after their departure we urge our pace until night, and
from dawn next morning to 3 P.M. we continue the journey with unabated
speed, until we find ourselves in Nyambarri, Usambiro, rejoiced to find
that we have foiled the dangerous king.
_April 13._—On the 13th of April we halted to refresh the people.
Usambiro, like all Unyamwezi, produces sufficient grain, sesamum,
millet, Indian corn, and vetches, besides beans and peas, to supply all
caravans and expeditions. I have observed that lands producing grain are
more easy of access than pastoral countries, or those which only supply
milk, bananas, and potatoes to their inhabitants.
At Nyambarri we met two Arab caravans fresh from Mankorongo, of whom
they gave fearful accounts, from which I inferred that the extortionate
chief would be by no means pleased when he came to understand how he had
been baffled in his idea of spoliating our Expedition.
Here the notorious Msenna for the third time ruptured the peace. He was
reported to be inciting a large number of Wangwana and Wanyamwezi to
desert in a body, offering himself as guide to conduct them to
Unyanyembé; and several young fellows, awed by his ungovernable temper
and brutal disposition, had yielded to his persuasions. Msenna was
therefore reduced to the ranks, and instead of being entrusted with the
captaincy of ten men, was sentenced to carry a box, under the watchful
eye of Kachéché, for a period of six months.
_April 14._—During the march from Nyambarri to Gambawagao, the chief
village of Usambiro, ancient “Bull,” the last of all the canine
companions which left England with me, borne down by weight of years and
a land journey of about 1500 miles, succumbed. With bulldog tenacity he
persisted in following the receding figures of the gun-bearers, who were
accustomed to precede him in the narrow way. Though he often staggered
and moaned, he made strenuous efforts to keep up, but at last, lying
down in the path, he plaintively bemoaned the weakness of body that had
conquered his will, and soon after died—his eyes to the last looking
_forward_ along the track he had so bravely tried to follow.
[Illustration:
“BULL.”
(_From a photograph by the Author._)
]
Poor dog! Good and faithful service had he done me! Who more rejoiced
than he to hear the rifle-shot ringing through the deep woods! Who more
loudly applauded success than he with his deep, mellow bark! What long
forest-tracts of tawny plains and series of mountain ranges had he not
traversed! How he plunged through jungle and fen, morass and stream! In
the sable blackness of the night his voice warned off marauders and
prowling beasts from the sleeping camp. His growl responded to the
hideous jabber of the greedy hyæna, and the snarling leopard did not
dismay him. He amazed the wondering savages with his bold eyes and
bearing, and by his courageous front caused them to retreat before him;
and right bravely did he help us to repel the Wanyaturu from our camp in
Ituru. Farewell, thou glory of thy race! Rest from thy labours in the
silent forest! Thy feet shall no more hurry up the hill or cross mead
and plain; thy form shall rustle no more through the grasses, or be
plunging to explore the brake; thou shalt no longer dash after me across
the savannahs, for thou art gone to the grave, like the rest of thy
companions!
The king of Usambiro exchanged gifts with us, and appeared to be a
clever, agreeable young man. His people, though professing to be
Wanyamwezi, are a mixture of Wahha and Wazinja. He has constructed a
strong village, and surrounded it with a fosse 4 feet deep and 6 feet
wide, with a stockade and “marksmen’s nests” at intervals round it. The
population of the capital is about 2000.
Boma Kiengo, or Msera, lies five miles south-south-east from the
capital, and its chief, seeing that we had arrived at such a good
understanding with the king, also exerted himself to create a favourable
impression.
_April 18._—Musonga lies twelve miles south-south-east of Boma Kiengo,
and is the most northerly village of the country of Urangwa. On the 18th
of April, a march of fifteen miles enabled us to reach the capital,
Ndeverva, another large stockaded village, also provided with
“marksmen’s nests,” and surrounded by a fosse.
We were making capital marches. The petty kings, though they exacted a
small interchange of gifts, which compelled me to disburse cloth a
little more frequently than was absolutely necessary, were not insolent,
nor so extortionate as to prevent our intercourse being of the most
friendly character.
But on the day we arrived at Urangwa, lo! there came up in haste, while
we were sociably chatting together, a messenger to tell us that the
phantom, the bugbear, the terror whose name silences the children of
Unyamwezi and Usukuma, and makes women’s hearts bound with fear; that
Mirambo himself was coming—that he was only two camps, or about twenty
miles, away—that he had an immense army of Ruga-Ruga (bandits) with him!
The consternation at this news, the dismay and excitement, the
discussion and rapid interchange of ideas suggested by terror throughout
the capital, may be conceived. Barricades were prepared, sharp-shooters’
platforms, with thick bulwarks of logs, were erected. The women hastened
to prepare their charms, the Waganga consulted their spirits, each
warrior and elder examined his guns and loaded them, ramming the powder
down the barrels of their Brummagem muskets with desperately vengeful
intentions, while the king hastened backwards and forwards with
streaming robes of cotton behind him, animated by a hysterical energy.
[Illustration: SEROMBO HUTS.]
I had 175 men under my command, and forty of the Arabs’ people were with
me, and we had many boxes of ammunition. The king recollected these
facts, and said, “You will stop to fight Mirambo, will you not?”
“Not I, my friend; I have no quarrel with Mirambo, and we cannot join
every native to fight his neighbour. If Mirambo attacks the village
while I am here, and will not go away when I ask him, we will fight; but
we cannot stop here to wait for him.”
The poor king was very much distressed when we left the next morning. We
despatched our scouts ahead, as we usually did when traversing troublous
countries, and omitted no precaution to guard against surprise.
_April 19._—On the 19th we arrived at one of the largest villages or
towns in Unyamwezi, called Serombo or Sorombo. It was two miles and a
half in circumference, and probably contained over a thousand large and
small huts, and a population of about 5000.
The present king’s name is Ndega, a boy of sixteen, the son of Makaka,
who died about two years ago. Too young himself to govern the large
settlement and the country round, two elders, or Manyapara, act as
regents during his minority.
We were shown to a peculiar-shaped hut, extremely like an Abyssinian
dwelling. The height of the doorway was 7 feet, and from the floor to
the top of the conical roof it was 20 feet. The walls were of interwoven
sticks, plastered over neatly with brown clay. The king’s house was 30
feet high from the ground to the tip of the cone, and 40 feet in
diameter within; but the total diameter including the circular fence or
palisade that supported the broad eaves, and enclosed a gallery which
ran round the house, was 54 feet.
Owing to this peculiar construction a desperate body of 150 men might
from the circular gallery sustain a protracted attack from a vastly
superior foe, and probably repel it.
Ndega is a relative of Mirambo by marriage, and he soon quieted all
uneasy minds by announcing that the famous man who was now advancing
upon Serombo had just concluded a peace with the Arabs, and that
therefore no trouble was to be apprehended from his visit, it being
solely a friendly visit to his young relative.
Naturally we were all anxious to behold the “Mars of Africa,” who since
1871 has made his name feared by both native and foreigner from Usui to
Urori, and from Uvinza to Ugogo, a country embracing 90,000 square
miles, who, from the village chieftainship over Uyoweh, has made for
himself a name as well known as that of Mtesa throughout the eastern
half of Equatorial Africa, a household word from Nyangwé to Zanzibar,
and the theme of many a song of the bards of Unyamwezi, Ukimbu,
Ukonongo, Uzinja, and Uvinza.
On the evening of our arrival at Serombo’s we heard his Brown Besses—
called by the natives Gumeh-Gumeh—announcing to all that the man with
the dread name lay not far from our vicinity.
At dusk the huge drums of Serombo signalled silence for the town-criers,
whose voices, preceded by the sound of iron bells, were presently heard
crying out:—
“Listen, O men of Serombo. Mirambo, the brother of Ndega, cometh in the
morning. Be ye prepared, therefore, for his young men are hungry. Send
your women to dig potatoes, dig potatoes. Mirambo cometh. Dig potatoes,
potatoes, dig potatoes, to-morrow!”
_April 20._—At 10 A.M. the Brown Besses, heavily charged and fired off
by hundreds, loudly heralded Mirambo’s approach, and nearly all my
Wangwana followed the inhabitants of Serombo outside to see the famous
chieftain. Great war-drums and the shouts of admiring thousands
proclaimed that he had entered the town, and soon little Mabruki, the
chief of the tent-boys, and Kachéché, the detective, on whose
intelligence I could rely, brought an interesting budget to me.
Mabruki said: “We have seen Mirambo. He has arrived. We have beheld
the Ruga-Ruga, and there are many of them, and all are armed with
Gumeh-Gumeh. About a hundred are clothed in crimson cloth and white
shirts, like our Wangwana. Mirambo is not an old man.”
Kachéché said: “Mirambo is not old, he is young: I must be older than he
is. He is a very nice man, well dressed, quite like an Arab. He wears
the turban, fez, and cloth coat of an Arab, and carries a scimitar. He
also wears slippers, and his clothes under his coat are very white. I
should say he has about a thousand and a half men with him, and they are
all armed with muskets or double-barrelled guns. Mirambo has three young
men carrying his guns for him. Truly, Mirambo is a great man!”
The shrill Lu-lu-lu’s, prolonged and loud, were still maintained by the
women, who entertained a great respect for the greatest king in
Unyamwezi.
[Illustration: A “RUGA-RUGA,” ONE OF MIRAMBO’S PATRIOTS.]
Presently Manwa Sera, the chief captain of the Wangwana, came to my hut,
to introduce three young men—Ruga-Ruga (bandits), as we called them, but
must do so no more lest we give offence—handsomely dressed in fine red
and blue cloth coats, and snowy white shirts, with ample turbans around
their heads. They were confidential captains of Mirambo’s bodyguard.
“Mirambo sends his salaams to the white man,” said the principal of
them. “He hopes the white man is friendly to him, and that he does not
share the prejudices of the Arabs, and believe Mirambo a bad man. If it
is agreeable to the white man, will he send words of peace to Mirambo?”
“Tell Mirambo,” I replied, “that I am eager to see him, and would be
glad to shake hands with so great a man, and as I have made strong
friendship with Mtesa, Rumanika, and all the kings along the road from
Usoga to Unyamwezi, I shall be rejoiced to make strong friendship with
Mirambo also. Tell him I hope he will come and see me as soon as he
can.”
_April 22._—The next day Mirambo, having despatched a Ruga-Ruga—no, a
patriot, I should have said—to announce his coming, appeared with about
twenty of his principal men.
I shook hands with him with fervour, which drew a smile from him as he
said, “The white man shakes hands like a strong friend.”
His person quite captivated me, for he was a thorough African
_gentleman_ in appearance, very different from my conception of the
terrible bandit who had struck his telling blows at native chiefs and
Arabs with all the rapidity of a Frederick the Great environed by foes.
I entered the following notes in my journal on April 22, 1876:—
“This day will be memorable to me for the visit of the famous Mirambo.
He was the reverse of all my conceptions of the redoubtable chieftain,
and the man I had styled the ‘terrible bandit.’
“He is a man about 5 feet 11 inches in height, and about thirty-five
years old, with not an ounce of superfluous flesh about him. A
handsome, regular-featured, mild-voiced, soft-spoken man, with what
one might call a ‘meek’ demeanour, very generous and open-handed.
The character was so different from that which I had attributed
to him that for some time a suspicion clung to my mind that I was
being imposed upon, but Arabs came forward who testified that this
quiet-looking man was indeed Mirambo. I had expected to see something
of the Mtesa type, a man whose exterior would proclaim his life and
rank; but this unpresuming, mild-eyed man, of inoffensive, meek
exterior, whose action was so calm, without a gesture, presented to
the eye nothing of the Napoleonic genius which he has for five years
displayed in the heart of Unyamwezi, to the injury of Arabs and
commerce, and the doubling of the price of ivory. I said there was
_nothing_; but I must except the eyes, which had the steady, calm
gaze of a master.
“During the conversation I had with him, he said he preferred boys or
young men to accompany him to war; he never took middle-aged or old
men, as they were sure to be troubled with wives or children, and did
not fight half so well as young fellows who listened to his words.
Said he, ‘They have sharper eyes, and their young limbs enable them to
move with the ease of serpents or the rapidity of zebras, and a few
words will give them the hearts of lions. In all my wars with the
Arabs, it was an army of youths that gave me victory, boys without
beards. Fifteen of my young men died one day because I said I must
have a certain red cloth that was thrown down as a challenge. No, no,
give me youths for war in the open field, and men for the stockaded
village.’
“‘What was the cause of your war, Mirambo, with the Arabs?’ I asked.
“‘There was a good deal of cause. The Arabs got the big head’ (proud),
‘and there was no talking with them. Mkasiwa of Unyanyembé lost his
head too, and thought I was his vassal, whereas I was not. My father
was king of Uyoweh, and I was his son. What right had Mkasiwa or the
Arabs to say what I ought to do? But the war is now over—the Arabs
know what I can do, and Mkasiwa knows it. We will not fight any more,
but we will see who can do the best trade, and who is the smartest
man. Any Arab or white man who would like to pass through my country
is welcome. I will give him meat and drink, and a house, and no man
shall hurt him.’”
Mirambo retired, and in the evening I returned his visit with ten of the
principal Wangwana. I found him in a bell-tent, 20 feet high and 25 feet
in diameter, with his chiefs around him.
Manwa Sera was requested to seal our friendship by performing the
ceremony of blood-brotherhood between Miramba and myself. Having caused
us to sit fronting each other on a straw-carpet, he made an incision in
each of our right legs, from which he extracted blood, and,
interchanging it, he exclaimed aloud:—
“If either of you break this brotherhood now established between you,
may the lion devour him, the serpent poison him, bitterness be in his
food, his friends desert him, his gun burst in his hands and wound him,
and everything that is bad do wrong to him until death.”
My new brother then gave me fifteen cloths to be distributed among my
chiefs, while he would accept only three from me. But not desirous of
appearing illiberal, I presented him with a revolver and 200 rounds of
ammunition, and some small curiosities from England. Still ambitious to
excel me in liberality, he charged five of his young men to proceed to
Urambo—which name he has now given Uyoweh, after himself—and to select
three milch-cows with their calves, and three bullocks, to be driven to
Ubagwé to meet me. He also gave me three guides to take me along the
frontier of the predatory Watuta.
_April 23._—On the morning of the 23rd he accompanied me outside
Serombo, where we parted on the very best terms with each other. An Arab
in his company, named Sayid bin Mohammed, also presented me with a bar
of Castile soap, a bag of pepper and some saffron. A fine riding-ass,
purchased from Sayid, was named Mirambo by me, because the Wangwana, who
were also captivated by Mirambo’s agreeable manners, insisted on it.
We halted on the 23rd at Mayangira, seven miles and a half from
Serombo, and on the 24th, after a protracted march of eleven miles
south-south-east over flooded plains, arrived at Ukombeh.
_April 24._—At Masumbwa, ten miles from Ukombeh, we encountered a very
arrogant young chief, who called himself Mtemi, or king, and whose
majesty claimed to be honoured with a donation of fifteen cloths—a claim
which was peremptorily refused, despite all he could urge in
satisfaction of it.
Through similar flooded plains, with the water hip-deep in most places,
and after crossing an important stream flowing west-south-west towards
the Malagarazi, we arrived at Myonga’s village, the capital of southern
Masumbwa.
This Myonga is the same valorous chief who robbed Colonel Grant as he
was hurrying with an undisciplined caravan after Speke. (See Speke’s
Journal, page 159, for the following graphic letter:—
“In the Jungles, near M’yonga’s,
“16th Sept. 1861.
“MY DEAR SPEKE,—The caravan was attacked, plundered, and the men
driven to the winds, while marching this morning into M’yonga’s
country.
“Awaking at cock-crow, I roused the camp, all anxious to rejoin you;
and while the loads were being packed, my attention was drawn to an
angry discussion between the head men and seven or eight armed fellows
sent by Sultan M’yonga to insist on my putting up for the day in his
village. They were summarily told that as _you_ had already made him a
present, he need not expect a visit from _me_. Adhering, I doubt not,
to their master’s instructions, they officiously constituted
themselves our guides till we chose to strike off their path, when,
quickly heading our party, they stopped the way, planted their spears,
and _dared_ our advance!
“This menace made us firmer in our determination, and we swept past
the spears. After we had marched unmolested for some seven miles, a
loud yelping from the woods excited our attention, and a sudden rush
was made upon us by, say, two hundred men, who came down _seemingly_
in great glee. In an instant, at the caravan’s centre, they fastened
upon the poor porters. The struggle was short; and with the threat of
an arrow or spear at their breasts, men were robbed of their cloths
and ornaments, loads were yielded and run away with before resistance
could be organised; only three men of a hundred stood by me; the
others, whose only _thought_ was their lives, fled into the woods,
where I went shouting for them. One man, little Rahan—rip as he is—
stood with cocked gun, defending his load against five savages with
uplifted spears. No one else could be seen. Two or three were reported
killed, some were wounded. Beads, boxes, cloths, &c., lay strewed
about the woods. In fact, I felt wrecked. My attempt to go and demand
redress from the sultan was resisted, and, in utter despair. I seated
myself among a mass of rascals jeering round me, and insolent after
the success of the day. Several were dressed in the very cloths, &c.,
they had stolen from my men.
“In the afternoon about fifteen men and loads were brought me, with a
message from the sultan, that the attack had been a _mistake_ of his
subjects—that one man had had a hand cut off for it, and that all the
property would be restored!
“Yours sincerely,
“J. A. GRANT.”)
Age had not lessened the conceit of Myonga, increased his modesty, or
moderated his cupidity. He asserted the rights and privileges of his
royalty with a presumptuous voice and a stern brow. He demanded tribute!
Twenty-five cloths! A gun and five fundo of beads! The Arabs, my
friends, were requested to do the same!
“Impossible, Myonga!” I replied, yet struck with admiration at the
unparalleled audacity of the man.
“People have been obliged to pay what I ask,” the old man said, with a
cunning twinkle in his eyes.
“Perhaps,” I answered; “but whether they have or not, I cannot pay you
so much, and, what is more, I will not. As a sign that we pass through
your country, I give you one cloth, and the Arabs shall only give you
one cloth.”
Myonga blustered and stormed, begged and threatened, and some of his
young men appeared to be getting vicious, when rising I informed him
that to talk loudly was to act like a scolding woman, and, that, when
his elder should arrive at our camp, he would receive two cloths, one
from me and one from the Arabs, as acknowledgment of his right to the
country.
The drum of Myonga’s village at once beat to arms, but the affair went
no further, and the elder received the reasonable and just tribute of
two cloths, with a gentle hint that it would be dangerous to intercept
the Expedition on the road when on the march, as the guns were loaded.
Phunze, chief of Mkumbiro, a village ten miles south by east from
Myonga, and the chief of Ureweh, fourteen miles and a half from
Phunze’s, were equally bold in their demands, but they did not receive
an inch of cloth; but neither of these three chiefs were half so
extortionate as Ungomirwa, king of Ubagwé, a large town of 3000 people.
_April 27._—We met at Ubagwé an Arab trader _en route_ to Uganda, and he
gave us a dismal tale of robbery and extortion practised on him by
Ungomirwa. He had been compelled to pay 150 cloths, five kegs or 50 lbs.
of gunpowder, five guns double-barrelled, and 35 lbs. of beads, the
whole being of the value of 625 dollars, or £125, for the privilege of
passing unmolested through the district of Ubagwé.
When the chief came to see me, I said to him:—
“Why is it, my friend, that your name goes about the country as being
that of a bad man? How is it that this poor Arab has had to pay so much
for going through Ubagwé? Is Ubagwé Unyamwezi, that Ungomirwa demands so
much from the Arabs? The Arab brings cloths, powder, guns into
Unyamwezi. If you rob him of his property, I must send letters to stop
people coming here, then Ungomirwa will become poor, and have neither
powder, guns, nor cloths to wear. What has Ungomirwa to say to his
friend?”
“Ungomirwa,” replied he, “does no more than Ureweh, Phunze, Myonga,
Ndega, Urangwa, and Mankorongo: he takes what he can. If the white man
thinks it is wrong, and will be my friend, I will return it all to the
Arab.”
“Ungomirwa is good. Nay, do not return it all; retain one gun, five
cloths, two fundo of beads, and one keg of powder; that will be plenty,
and nothing but right. I have many Wanyamwezi with me, whom I have made,
good men. I have two from Ubagwé, and one man who was born at Phunze’s.
Let Ungomirwa call the Wanyamwezi, and ask them how the white man treats
Wanyamwezi, and let him try to make them run away, and see what they
will say. They will tell him that all white men are very good to those
who are good.”
Ungomirwa called the Wanyamwezi to him, and asked them why they followed
the white man to wander about the world, leaving their brothers and
sisters. The question elicited the following reply:—
“The white people know everything. They are better than the black people
in heart. We have abundance to eat, plenty to wear, and silver for
ourselves. All we give to the white man is our strength. We carry his
goods for him, and he bestows a father’s care on his black children. Let
Ungomirwa make friends with the white man, and do as he says, and it
will be good for the land of Unyamwezi.”
To whatever cause it was owing, Ungomirwa returned the Arab nearly all
his property, and presented me with three bullocks; and during all the
time that I was his guest at Ubagwé, he exhibited great friendship for
me, and boasted of me to several Watuta visitors who came to see him
during that time; indeed, I can hardly remember a more agreeable stay at
any village in Africa than that which I made in Ubagwé.
Unyamwezi is troubled with a vast number of petty kings, whose
paltriness and poverty have so augmented their pride, that each of them
employ more threats, and makes more demands, than Mtesa, Emperor of
Uganda.
The adage that “Small things make base men proud” holds true in Africa
as in other parts of the world. Sayid bin Sayf, one of the Arabs at
Kafurro, begged me as I valued my property and peace of mind not to
march through Unyamwezi to Ujiji, but to travel through Uhha. I
attribute these words of Sayid’s to a desire on his part to hear of my
being mulcted by kings Khanza, Iwanda, and Kiti in the same proportion
that he was. He confessed that he had paid to Kiti sixty cloths, to
Iwanda sixty cloths, and to King Khanza 138, which amounted in value to
516 dollars, and this grieved the gentle merchant’s soul greatly.
On my former journey in search of Livingstone, I tested sufficiently the
capacity of the chiefs of Uhha to absorb property, and I vowed then to
give them a wide berth for all future time. Sayid’s relation of his
experiences, confirmed by Hamed Ibrahim, and my own reverses, indicated
but too well the custom in vogue among the Wahha. So far, between
Kibogora’s capital and Ubagwé, I had only disbursed thirty cloths as
gifts to nine kings of Unyamwezi, without greater annoyance than the
trouble of having to reduce their demands by negotiation.
No traveller has yet become acquainted with a wilder race in Equatorial
Africa than are the Mafitté or Watuta. They are the only true African
Bedawi; and surely some African Ishmael must have fathered them, for
their hands are against every man, and every man’s hand appears to be
raised against them.
To slay a solitary Mtuta is considered by an Arab as meritorious, and
far more necessary, than killing a snake. To guard against these sable
freebooters, the traveller, while passing near their haunts, has need of
all his skill, coolness, and prudence. The settler in their
neighbourhood has need to defend his village with impregnable fences,
and to have look-outs night and day: his women and children require to
be guarded, and fuel can only be procured by strong parties, while the
ground has to be cultivated spear in hand, so constant is the fear of
the restless and daring tribe of bandits.
The Watuta, by whose lands we are now about to travel, are a lost tribe
of the Mafitté, and became separated from the latter by an advance
towards the north in search of plunder and cattle. This event occurred
some thirty years ago. On their incursion they encountered the Warori,
who possessed countless herds of cattle. They fought with them for two
months at one place, and three months at another; and at last,
perceiving that the Warori were too strong for them—many of them having
been slain in the war and a large number of them (now known as the
Wahehé, and settled near Ugogo) having been cut off from the main body—
the Watuta skirted Urori, and advanced north-west through Ukonongo and
Kawendi to Ujiji. It is in the memory of the old Arab residents at Ujiji
how the Watuta suddenly appeared and drove them and the Wajiji to take
refuge upon Bangwé Island.
Not glutted with conquest by their triumph at Ujiji, they attacked
Urundi; but here they met different foes altogether from the negroes
of the south. They next invaded Uhha, but the races which occupy the
intra-lake regions had competent and worthy champions in the Wahha.
Battled at Uhha and Urundi, they fought their devastating path across
Uvinza, and entered Unyamwezi, penetrated Usumbwa, Utambara, Urangwa,
Uyofu, and so through Uzinja to the Victoria Nyanza, where they rested
for some years after their daring exploit. But the lands about the lake
were not suited to their tastes, and they retraced their steps as far
as Utambara. Kututwa, king of Utambara, from policy, wooed the daughter
of the chief of the Watuta, and as a dower his land was returned to
him, while the Watuta moving south occupied the neighbouring country of
Ugomba, situate between Uhha and Unyamwezi. It is a well-watered and a
rich grazing country, therefore well adapted to their habits and modes
of life. The Kinyamwezi kings of Serombo, Ubagwé, Ureweh, Renzeweh, and
kings Mirambo and Phunze have contracted alliances with influential
chiefs, and are on tolerably good terms with them; but stubborn old
Myonga still holds aloof from the Watuta.
It will be remembered by readers of ‘How I Found Livingstone’ how
Mirambo appeared at Tabora with thousands of the Watuta free-lances,
slaughtered Khamis bin Abdullah and five other Arabs, and ravaged that
populous settlement. From the above sketch of these terrible marauders,
they will now be able to understand how it was that he was able to
obtain their aid, while the following paragraph explains how I obtained
the facts of this predatory migration.
[Illustration: ONE OF THE WATUTA.]
The wife of Wadi Safeni—one of the Wangwana captains, and coxswain of
the _Lady Alice_ during her cruise round the Victoria Nyanza—when
proceeding one day outside the stockade of Ubagwé to obtain water,
accidentally heard our Watuta visitors gossiping together. The dialect
and accent sounding familiar to her, she listened, and a few moments
afterwards she was herself volubly discussing with them the geography of
the locality inhabited by the Mafitté between Lake Nyassa and Tanganika.
It was mainly from this little circumstance—confirmed by other
informants, Arab, Wangwana, and Wanyamwezi—that the above brief sketch
of the wanderings of the Watuta has been obtained.
“Mono-Matapa,” that great African word, which, from its antiquity and
its persistent appearance on our maps—occupying various positions to
suit the vagaries of various cartographers and the hypotheses of various
learned travellers—has now become almost classic, bears a distant
relation to the tribe of the Watuta.
The industrious traveller, Salt, in his book on Abyssinia, dated 1814,
says:
“This country is commonly called Monomatapa, in the accounts of which
a perplexing obscurity has been introduced, by different authors
having confounded the names of the districts with the titles of the
sovereigns, indiscriminately styling them Quitéve, Mono-matapa,
Benemotapa, Bene-motasha, Chikanga, Manika, Bokaranga and Mokaranga.
The fact appears to be that the sovereign’s title was Quitéve, and the
name of the country Motapa, to which Mono has been prefixed, as in
Monomugi, and many other names on the coast, that beyond this lay a
district called Chikanga, which contained the mines of Manica, and
that the other names were applicable solely to petty districts at that
time under the rule of the Quitéve.”
Zimbaoa, the capital of this interesting land, was said to be fifteen
days’ travel west from Sofala, and forty days’ travel from Senâ.
Indefatigable and patient exploration by various intelligent travellers
has now enabled us to understand exactly the meaning of the various
names with which early geographers confused us. The ancient land of the
Mono-Matapa occupied that part of South-East Africa now held by the
Matabeles, and the empire embraced nearly all the various tribes and
clans now known by the popular terms of Kaffirs and Zulus.
The reputation which Chaka obtained throughout that upland, extending
from the lands of the Hottentots to the Zambezi, roused, after his
death, various ambitious spirits. His great captains, leading warlike
hosts after them, spread terror and dismay among the tribes north,
south, and west. Mosèlé-katzé overran the Transvaal, and conquered the
Bechuanas, but was subsequently compelled by the Boers to migrate north,
where his people, now known as the Matabeles, have established
themselves under Lo Bengwella, his successor.
Sebituané, another warlike spirit after the style of Chaka, put himself
at the head of a tribe of the Basutos, and, after numerous conquests
over small tribes, established his authority and people along the
Zambezi, under the name of Makololo. Sebituané was succeeded by
Sekeletu, Livingstone’s friend, and he by Impororo—the last of the
Makololo kings.
One of Chaka’s generals was called Mani-Koos. It ought to be mentioned
here that Mani, Mana, Mono, Moeni, Muini, Muinyi, are all prefixes,
synonymous with lord, prince, and sometimes son: for example,
Mana-Koos, Mani-Ema, now called Man-yema and Mana-Mputu, lord of the
sea; Mono-Matapa, Mana-Ndenga, Mana-Butti, Mana-Kirembu, Mana-Mamba,
and so forth. In Uregga the prefix becomes Wana, or Wane, as in
Wane-Mbesa, Wane-Kirumbu, Wane Kamankua, Wana-Kipangu, Wana-Mukwa,
and Wana-Rukura; while in the Bateké and the Babwendé lands it is
changed into Mwana, as Mwana-Ibaka, or Mwana-Kilungu, which title was
given to the Livingstone river by the Babwendé, meaning “lord of the
sea.” To return. This Mani-Koos, a general of Chaka’s, attacked the
Portuguese at Delagoa Bay, Sofala, and Inhambané, and compelled them
to pay tribute. The party then crossed the Zambezi river above Teté,
the capital of the Portuguese territory, and, after ravaging the lands
along the Nyassa, finally established itself north-west of the Nyassa,
between that lake and the Tanganika. To-day they are known as the
Manitu, Mafitté, or Ma-viti; and three offshoots of this tribe are—the
Watuta in the neighbourhood of Zombé, south-east end of Lake Tanganika;
the Wahehé, who cause such dire trouble to the Wagogo; and the Watuta,
the allies of Mirambo, and called by the Wanyamwezi the Mwangoni.
_May 4._—On the 4th of May, having received the milch cows, calves, and
bullocks from my new brother Mirambo, we marched in a south-south-west
direction, skirting the territory of the Watuta, to Ruwinga, a village
occupying a patch of cleared land, and ruled by a small chief who is a
tributary to his dreaded neighbours.
_May 5._—The next day, in good order, we marched across a portion of the
territory of the Watuta. No precaution was omitted to ensure our being
warned in time of the presence of the enemy, nor did we make any delay
on the road, as a knowledge of their tactics of attack assured us that
this was our only chance of avoiding a conflict with them. Msené, after
a journey of twenty miles, was reached about 2 P.M., and the king,
Mulagwa, received us with open arms.
The population of the three villages under Mulagwa probably numbers
about 3500. The king of the Watuta frequently visits Mulagwa’s district;
but his strongly fenced villages and large number of muskets have been
sufficient to check the intentions of the robbers, though atrocious acts
are often committed upon the unwary.
Maganga, the dilatory chief of one of my caravans during the first
Expedition, was discovered here, and, on the strength of a long
acquaintance with my merits, induced Mulagwa to exert himself for my
comfort.
I saw a poor woman, a victim of a raid by the Watuta, who, having been
accidentally waylaid by them in the fields, had had her left foot
barbarously cut off.
Ten miles south-west of Msené is Kawangira, a district about ten miles
square, governed by the chief Nyambu, a rival of Mulagwa. Relics of the
ruthlessness and devastating attacks of the Watuta are visible between
the two districts, and the once populous land is rapidly resuming its
original appearance of a tenantless waste.
_May 9._—The next village, Nganda, ten miles south-west from Kawangira,
was reached on the 9th of May. From this place, as far as Usenda
(distant fourteen miles south-south-west), extended a plain, inundated
with from 2 to 5 feet of water from the flooded Gombé which rises about
forty miles south-east of Unyanyembé. Where the Gombé meets with the
Malagarazi, there is a spacious plain, which during each rainy season is
converted into a lake.
We journeyed to the important village of Usagusi on the 12th, in a
south-south-west direction. Like Serombo, Myonga’s, Urangwa, Ubagwé, and
Msené, it is strongly stockaded, and the chief, conscious that the
safety of his principal village depends upon the care he bestows upon
its defences, exacts heavy fines upon those of his people who manifest
any reluctance to repair the stockade; and this vigilant prudence has
hitherto baffled the wolf-like marauders of Ugomba.
I met another old friend of mine at the next village, Ugara. He was a
visitor to my camp at Kuziri, in Ukimbu, in 1871. Ugara is seventeen
miles west-south-west. I found it troubled with a “war,” or two wars,
one between Kazavula and Uvinza, the other between Ibango of Usenyé and
Mkasiwa of Unyanyembé.
Twenty-five miles in a westerly direction, through a depopulated land,
brought us to Zegi, in Uvinza, where we found a large caravan, under an
Arab in the employ of Sayid bin Habib. Amongst these natives of Zanzibar
was a man who had accompanied Cameron and Tippu-Tib to Utotera. Like
other Münchhausens of his race, he informed me upon oath that he had
seen a ship upon a lake west of Utotera, manned by black Wazungu, or
black Europeans!
Before reaching Zegi, we saw Sivué lake, a body of water fed by the
Sagala river: it is about seven miles wide by fourteen miles long.
Through a broad bed, choked by reeds and grass and tropical plants, it
empties into the Malagarazi river near Kiala.
Zegi village also swarmed with Rusunzu’s warriors. Rusunzu has succeeded
his father, Nzogera, as king of Uvinza, and, being energetic, is
disposed to combat Mirambo’s ambitious projects of annexation. I took
care not to disclose our relationship with Mirambo, lest the warriors
might have supposed we countenanced his designs against their beloved
land.
These warriors, perceiving that the word Ruga-Ruga, or bandits,
influences weak minds, call themselves by that name, and endeavour to
distinguish themselves by arresting all native travellers suspected of
hostility or property. One of these unfortunates just captured was about
to have his weasand cut, when I suggested that he had better be sold, as
his corpse would be useless.
“You buy him, then,” said the excited fellows; “give us ten cloths for
him.”
“White men don’t buy slaves; but rather than you should murder an
innocent man, I will give you two for him.”
After considerable discussion, it was agreed that he should be
transferred to me for two cloths; but the poor old fellow was so injured
from the brutal treatment he had undergone that he died a few days
afterwards.
Zegi, swarming with a reckless number of lawless men, was not a
comfortable place to dwell in. The conduct of these men was another
curious illustration of how “small things make base men proud.” Here
were a number of youths suffering under that strange disease peculiar to
vain youth in all lands which Mirambo had called “big head.” The manner
in which they strutted about, their big looks and bold staring, their
enormous feathered head-dresses and martial stride, were most offensive.
Having adopted, from bravado, the name of Ruga-Ruga, they were compelled
in honour to imitate the bandits’ custom of smoking banghi (wild hemp),
and my memory fails to remind me of any similar experience to the wild
screaming and stormy sneezing, accompanied day and night by the
monotonous droning of the one-string guitar (another accomplishment _de
rigueur_ with the complete bandit) and the hiccuping, snorting, and
vocal extravagances which we had to bear in the village of Zegi.
_May 18._—We paid a decent tribute of fifteen cloths to Rusunzu, out of
the infamous “sixty” he had demanded through his Mutwaré or chief; and
the Mutwaré received only four out of the twenty he had said should be
paid to himself; and after the termination of the bargaining we marched
to Ugaga, on the Malagarazi, on the 18th.
_May 20._—The Mutwaré of Ugaga the next day made a claim of forty doti
or cloths before giving us permission to cross the Malagarazi. I sent
Frank with twenty men to a point three miles below Ugaga to prepare our
boat; and meanwhile we delayed negotiations until a messenger came from
Frank informing us that the boat was ready, and then after making a
tentative offer of two cloths, which was rejected with every ludicrous
expression of contempt, we gave four. The Mutwaré then said that Rusunzu
the king had commanded that we should return to Zegi to fight his
enemies, otherwise he withheld his permission to cross the river. At
this piece of despotism we smiled, and marched towards the boat, where
we camped. At 4 A.M. of the 20th of May I had eighty guns across the
mile-wide[38] Malagarazi, and by 3 P.M. the entire Expedition, and our
Arab friends whom we had met at Zegi, were in Northern Uvinza.
_May 21._—The next day, avoiding the scorched plains of Uhha, of bitter
memory to me, we journeyed to Ruwhera, eleven miles; thence to Mansumba,
due west, nine miles and a half through a thin jungle; whence we
despatched some Wanyamwezi across the frontier to Uhha to purchase corn
for the support of the Expedition in the wilderness between Uvinza and
Ujiji.
Strange to say, the Wahha, who are the most extortionate tribute-takers
in Africa, will not interfere with a caravan when once over the
frontier, but will readily sell them food. About fifty Wahha even
brought grain and fowls for sale to our camp at Mansumba. Though truth
compels me to say that we should have fared very badly had we travelled
through Uhha, I must do its people the justice to say that they are not
churlish to strangers beyond their own limits.
It is a great pity that the Malagarazi is not navigable. There is a
difference of nearly 900 feet between the altitude of Ugaga and that of
Ujiji. One series of falls are south-south-west from Ruwhera, about
twenty-five miles below Ugaga. There is another series of falls about
twenty miles from the Tanganika.
_May 24._—At noon on the 24th we camped on the western bank of the
Rusugi river. A small village, called Kasanga, is situated two miles
above the ford. Near the crossing on either side are the salt-pans of
Uvinza, which furnish a respectable revenue to its king. A square mile
of ground is strewn with broken pots, embers of fires, the refuse of the
salt, lumps of burnt clay, and ruined huts. As Rusunzu now owns all the
land to within fifteen miles of Ujiji, there is no one to war with for
the undisputed possession of the salt-pans.
Through a forest jungle separated at intervals by narrow strips of
plain, and crossing six small tributaries of the Malagarazi by the way,
we journeyed twenty-three miles, to a camp near the frontier of the
district of Uguru, or the hill country of Western Uhha.
The northern slopes of these mountain masses of Uguru, about fifteen
miles north of the sources of the Liuché, are drained by the southern
feeders of the Alexandra Nile; the western, by the Mshala; the southern
by the Liuché; and the eastern, by the Uhha tributaries of the
Malagarazi. The boundaries of Uhha, Urundi, and Ujiji meet at these
mountains, which are probably 6500 feet above the sea.
We greeted our friend of Niamtaga, whom we had met in November in 1871,
but, alas for him! two weeks later he was taken by surprise by Rusunzu,
and massacred with nearly three-fourths of his people.
_May 27._—At noon of the 27th of May the bright waters of the Tanganika
broke upon the view, and compelled me to linger admiringly for a while,
as I did on the day I first beheld them. By 3 P.M. we were in Ujiji.
Muini Kheri, Mohammed bin Gharib, Sultan bin Kassim, and Khamis the
Baluch greeted me kindly. Mohammed bin Sali was dead. Nothing was
changed much, except the ever-changing mud tembés of the Arabs. The
square or plaza where I met David Livingstone in November 1871 is now
occupied by large tembés. The house where he and I lived has long ago
been burnt down, and in its place there remain only a few embers and a
hideous void. The lake expands with the same grand beauty before the
eyes as we stand in the market-place. The opposite mountains of Goma
have the same blue-black colour, for they are everlasting, and the
Liuché river continues its course as brown as ever just east and south
of Ujiji. The surf is still as restless, and the sun as bright; the sky
retains its glorious azure, and the palms all their beauty: but the
grand old hero, whose presence once filled Ujiji with such absorbing
interest for me, was gone!
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# 38:
In the dry season the Malagarazi is only about 60 yards wide at Ugaga.
The hyphenation of compound words is not always consistent. When such
words appear midline, they are retained as printed. Where the
hyphenation occurs on a line break, the hyphen is either removed or
retained to agree with the preponderance of appearances elsewhere.
Other errors deemed most likely to be the printer’s have been corrected,
and are noted here. The references are to the page and line in the
original.
26.32 is very approp[r]iately termed Inserted.
56.40 to observe th[r]oughout our journey Inserted.
59.40 Living[s]tone’s discoveries Inserted.
62.24 employment to abo[n/u]t 80 adults Inverted.
70.4 D[n/u]doma[—] Transposed/Inserted.
71.14 was di[s]covered Inserted.
72.37 on every side[.] Restored.
79.26 broad and dry sandy st[r]eam-bed Inserted.
90.2 An imme[u/n]se area Inverted.
93.6 [‘/“]I have seen the lake Replaced.
114.3 chief of Kageh[y]i Inserted.
116.33 making or repa[i]ring Inserted.
117.26 the Wasuk[u]ma recruits Inserted.
164.10 the [s/f]ew days Replaced.
184.10 Safeni asked one [of] them, Supplied.
188.19 combining to mu[l]tiply the terrors Inserted.
190.27 in its veins[,/.] Replaced.
191.19 besides three others[.] Restored.
198.9 “Mohoro![”] [“]Eg sura?” Added.
233.2 “Jack[’]s Mount” Added.
233.5 [‘/“]What do you know Replaced.
270.31 at a much earl[y/ier] period Replaced.
307.44 he drinks[,] Added.
326.2 Sambu[s/z]i ordered to take me Replaced.
328.13 listen to my words[.] Added.
349.43 the cliffs of Muta Nzig[è/é]. Replaced.
350.10 to depart in peace[,/.] Replaced.
351.34 what is Stamlee going to do now[./?] Replaced.
368.7 and full of guile verily[.] Added.
426.20 seconded Saba[b/d]u Replaced.
