1866-1868***


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THE LAST JOURNALS OF DAVID LIVINGSTONE,
IN CENTRAL AFRICA, FROM 1865 TO HIS DEATH.

Continued by a Narrative of His Last Moments and Sufferings,
Obtained from His Faithful Servants Chuma and Susi,

by

HORACE WALLER, F.R.G.S.,
Rector Of Twywell, Northampton.

IN TWO VOLUMES.--VOL. I.
[1866-1868]

With Portrait, Maps, and Illustrations.

London:
John Murray, Albemarle Street.

1874







INTRODUCTION.


In the midst of the universal sorrow caused by the intelligence that
Dr. Livingstone had lost his life at the furthest point to which he
had penetrated in his search for the true sources of the Nile, a faint
hope was indulged that some of his journals might survive the
disaster: this hope, I rejoice to say, has been realized beyond the
most sanguine expectations.

It is due, in the first place, to his native attendants, whose
faithfulness has placed his last writings at our disposal, and also to
the reader, before he launches forth upon a series of travels and
scientific geographical records of the most extraordinary character,
to say that in the following narrative of seven years' continuous work
and new discovery _no break whatever occurs_.

We have not to deplore the loss, by accident or carelessness, of a
single entry, from the time of Livingstone's departure from Zanzibar
in the beginning of 1866 to the day when his note-book dropped from
his hand in the village of Ilala at the end of April, 1873.

I trust it will not be uninteresting if I preface the history with a
few words on the nature of these journals and writings as they have
come to hand from Central Africa.

It will be remembered that when Mr. Stanley returned to England in
1872, Dr. Livingstone entrusted to his care a very large Letts' diary,
sealed up and consigned to the safe keeping of his daughter, Miss
Agnes Livingstone. Upon the confirmation of the worst news, this book
was examined and found to contain a considerable portion of the notes
which her father made during his travels previous to the time of Mr.
Stanley's meeting him.

The Doctor's custom was always to have metallic note-books in use, in
which the day's jottings were recorded. When time and opportunity
served, the larger volume was posted up with scrupulous care.

It seems, however, that in the last three or four years of his life
this excellent rule had to give way to the toils of travel and the
exhaustion of most distressing illnesses. Whilst in the Manyuema
country he ran out of note-books, ink, and pencils, and had to resort
to shifts which at first made it a very debateable point whether the
most diligent attempt at deciphering would suceeed after all. Such
pocket-books as remained at this period of his travels were utilized
to the last inch of paper. In some of them we find lunar observations,
the names of rivers, and the heights of hills advancing towards the
middle from one end, whilst from the other the itinerary grows day by
day, interspersed with map routes of the march, botanical notes, and
carefully made drawings. But in the mean time the middle portion of
the book was filling up with calculations, private memoranda, words
intended for vocabularies, and extracts from books, whilst here and
there the stain of a pressed flower causes indistinctness; yet the
thread of the narrative runs throughout. Noting but his invariable
habit of constantly repeating the month and year obviates hopeless
confusion. Nor is this all; for pocket-books gave out at last, and old
newspapers, yellow with African damp, were sewn together, and his
notes were written across the type with a substitute for ink made from
the juice of a tree. To Miss Livingstone and to the Rev. C.A. Alington
I am very much indebted for help in the laborious task of deciphering
this portion of the Doctor's journals. Their knowledge of his
handwriting, their perseverance, coupled with good eyes and a strong
magnifying-glass, at last made their task a complete success.

In comparing this great mass of material with the journal brought
home by Mr. Stanley, one finds that a great deal of most interesting
matter can be added. It would seem that in the hurry of writing and
copying despatches previous to his companion's departure, the Doctor
rapidly entered up as much from his note-books as time and space
permitted.

Most fortunately, he still carried the greater part of these original
notes till the time of his death, so that they were forthcoming when
his effects were subsequently saved.

This brings us to the second instalment of the journals, for we have
thus acknowledged the first to have reached us on Mr. Stanley's
return.

When the battered tin travelling-case, which was with Livingstone to
the last, was opened at the Foreign Office in the spring of this year,
not only were these valuable papers disclosed which I have mentioned,
but it was found also that Livingstone had kept a copious journal
during his stay at Unyanyembé in some copy-books, and that when his
stock of note-books was replenished a daily record of his subsequent
travels had been made.

It was with fear and trembling that one looked to see whether all had
been saved or only part, but with satisfaction and thankfulness I have
subsequently discovered that his men preserved every single line,
besides his maps, which now come to light for the first time.

Thus much on the material of the diaries: it remains to say a few
words on the Map which accompanies these journals. It has been
compiled from Dr. Livingstone's original drawings and note-books, with
the corrections and additions he made from time to time as the work of
exploration progressed, and the details of physical geography became
clearer to him. The compiler, Mr. John Bolton[1], implicitly
following the original outline of the drawing as far as possible, has
honestly endeavoured to give such a rendering of the entire work, as
the Doctor would have done had he lived to return home, and
superintend the construction; and I take this opportunity of
expressing my sincere gratification that Mr. Bolton's rare technical
skill, scientific knowledge, and unwearying labour have been available
for the purpose.

Amongst almost the last words that Livingstone wrote, I find an
unfinished letter to myself, in which he gives me very clear and
explicit directions concerning the geographical notes he had
previously sent home, and I am but carrying out the sacred duty which
is attached to a last wish when I call attention to the fact, that he
particularly desired in this letter that _no positions gathered from
his observations for latitude and longitude, nor for the levels of the
Lakes, &c., should be considered correct till Sir Thomas Maclear had
examined them_. The position of Casembe's town, and of a point near
Pambetté at the S.E., and of Lake Liemba (Tanganyika), have been
computed and corrected by Sir T. Maclear and Dr. Mann. The
observations for latitude were taken at short intervals, and where it
has been possible to test them they have been found very correct, but
I repeat that until the imprimatur of his old friend at the Cape of
Good Hope stands over the whole of Livingstone's work, the map must be
accepted as open to further corrections.

The journey from Kabwabwata to Mparru has been inserted _entirely_
from notes, as the traveller was too ill to mark the route: this is
the only instance in all his wanderings where he failed to give some
indication on his map of the nature of the ground over which he
passed. The journey front Mikindany Bay to Lake Nyassa has also been
laid down from his journal and latitudes in consequence of the section
of this part of his route (which he left at Ujiji) not having arrived
in England at this date.[2] It will be observed that the outline of
Lake Nyassa differs from that on any published map: it has been drawn
from the original exploratory survey of its southern shores made by
Dr. Livingstone in 1861-3. For some reason this original plan was not
adhered to by a former draughtsman, but the Lake has here been
restored to a more accurate bearing and position.

How often shall we see in the pages of this concluding chapter of his
life, that unwavering determination which was pre-eminently the great
characteristic of David Livingstone!

Naturally endowed with unusual endurance, able to concentrate
faculties of no ordinary kind upon whatever he took in hand, and with
a dread of exaggeration which at times almost militated against the
importance of some of his greatest discoveries, it may be doubted if
ever Geographer went forth strengthened with so much true power. Let
us add to these a sincere trust that slavery, the "great open sore of
the world," as he called it, might under God's good guidance receive
healing at his hands; a fervent hope that others would follow him
after he had removed those difficulties which are comprised in a
profound ignorance of the physical features of a new country, and we
have the marching orders of him who left us in August 1865 never to
return alive.

Privileged to enjoy his near personal friendship for a considerable
period in Africa, and also at home, it has been easy to trace--more
especially from correspondence with him of late years--that
Livingstone wanted just some such gigantic problem as that which he
attacked at the last to measure his strength against: that he finally
overrated and overtaxed it I think all must admit.

He had not sufficiently allowed for an old wound which his
constitution received whilst battling with dysentery and fever, on his
celebrated journey across Africa, and this finally sapped his vital
powers, and, through the irritation of exhaustion, insidiously clouded
much of his happiness.

Many of his old friends were filled with anxiety when they found that
he intended to continue the investigation of the Nile sources, for the
letters sent home by Mr. Stanley raised the liveliest apprehensions,
which, alas! soon proved themselves well grounded.

The reader must be warned that, however versed in books of African
travel he may be, the very novelty of his situation amongst these
pages will render him liable perhaps to a danger which a timely word
may avert. Truly it may be said he has an _embarras de richesses!_ To
follow an explorer who by his individual exertions has filled up a
great space in the map of Africa, who has not only been the first to
set foot on the shores of vast inland seas, but who, with the simple
appliances of his bodily stature for a sounding pole and his stalwart
stride for a measuring tape, lays down new rivers by the hundreds, is
a task calculated to stagger him. It may be provoking to find
Livingstone busily engaged in bargaining for a canoe upon the shores
of Bangweolo, much as he would have secured a boat on his own native
Clyde; but it was not in his nature to be subject to those paroxysms
in which travellers too often indite their discoveries and
descriptions.

At the same time these journals will be found to contain innumerable
notes on the habits of animals, birds, and fishes, many of them
probably new species, and on phenomena in every direction which the
keen eye searched out as the great traveller moved amongst some of the
grandest scenes of this beautiful world: it may be doubted if ever eye
so keen was backed by so much perseverance to shield it from a mere
superficial habit of noticing. Let his adventures speak for
themselves.

Amongst the greatest facts recorded here the Geographer will perceive
that the Doctor has placed it beyond doubt that Lake Nyassa belongs to
a totally distinct system of waters to that which holds Lake
Tanganyika, and the rivers running north and west. He was too
sagacious to venture the surmise that Tanganyika has a subterranean
outlet without having duly weighed the probabilities in the scale with
his elaborate observations: the idea gathers force when we remember
that in the case of limestone cliffs, water so often succeeds in
breaking bounds by boring through the solid rock. No more interesting
problem is left to solve, and we shall yet learn whether, through the
caverns of Western Kabogo, this Lake adds its waters to the vast
northerly flow of rivers we now read of for the first time, and which
are undoubtedly amongst the largest in the world.

I cannot close these remarks without stating how much obliged I am to
Mr. James Young, F.R.S., of Kelly, for having ensured the presence of
the Doctor's men, Chuma and Susi. Ever ready to serve his old friend
Livingstone, he took care that they should be at my elbow so long as I
required them to help me amidst the pile of MSS. and maps. Their
knowledge of the countries they travelled in is most remarkable, and
from constantly aiding their master by putting questions to the
natives respecting the course of rivers, &c., I found them actual
geographers of no mean attainments. In one instance, when in doubt
concerning a particular watershed, to my surprise Susi returned a few
hours afterwards with a plan of the whole system of rivers in the
region under examination, and I found his sketch tally well with the
Doctor's map. Known to me previously for years on the Zambesi and
Shiré it was a pleasure to have them with me for four months. Amongst
other good services they have aided the artist by reproducing the
exact facsimile of the hut in which Dr. Livingstone expired, besides
making models of the "kitanda" on which he was carried, and of the
village in which his body lay for fourteen days.

I need not add what ready and valuable assistance I have derived from
the Doctor's old companion Dr. Kirk wherever I have found it necessary
to apply to him; some of the illustrations are more particularly owing
to his kindness.

It only remains to say that it has been thought advisable to retain
all the strictly scientific matter found in Dr. Livingstone's journals
for future publication. When one sees that a register of the daily
rainfall was kept throughout, that the temperature was continually
recorded, and that barometrical and hypsometrical observations were
made with unflagging thoroughness of purpose year in and year out, it
is obvious that an accumulated mass of information remains for the
meteorologist to deal with separately, which alone must engross many
months of labour.

A constant sense of great responsibility has been mine throughout this
task, for one cannot doubt that much of the future welfare of distant
tribes and races depends upon Livingstone obtaining through these
records a distinct hearing for their woes, their misery, and above all
for their willingness to welcome men drawn towards them by motives
like his.

At the same time memory and affection have not failed to bring back
vividly the man, the traveller, and the friend. May that which he has
said in his journals suffer neither loss of interest nor depth of
meaning at the compiler's hands.

    HORACE WALLER.

    TWYWELL RECTORY, THRAPSTON,
    NORTHAMPTONSHIRE.
    _Nov. 2, 1874._

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Attached to Mr. Stanford's staff.

[2] In February last this section of the map (as we suppose), together
with some of the Doctor's papers, was sent off from Ujiji by
Lieutenant Cameron. Nothing, however, had arrived on the 22nd
September at Zanzibar, and H.M. Consul, Captain Prideaux, entertained
serious doubts at that time whether they would ever come to hand. All
Livingstone's journals were saved through other instrumentality, as I
have shown.




CONTENTS.


CHAPTER I.

    Arrival at Zanzibar. Hearty reception by Said Majid, the sultan.
    Murder of Baron van der Decken. The slave-market. Preparations
    for starting to the interior. Embarkation in H.M.S. _Penguin_
    and dhow. Rovuma Bay impracticable. Disembarks at Mikindany. Joy
    at travelling once more. Trouble with sepoys. Camels attacked by
    tsetse fly, and by sepoys. Jungle sappers. Meets old enemies.
    The Makondé. Lake Nangandi. Gum-copal diggings.

CHAPTER II.

    Effect of _Pioneer's_ former visit. The poodle Chitané. Result
    of tsetse bites. Death of camels and buffaloes. Disaffection of
    followers. Disputed right of ferry. Mazitu raids. An old friend.
    Severe privations. The River Loendi. Sepoys mutiny. Dr. Roscher.
    Desolation. Tattooing. Ornamental teeth. Singular custom. Death
    of the Nassick boy, Richard. A sad reminiscence.

CHAPTER III.

    Horrors of the slave-trader's track. System of cultivation.
    Pottery. Special exorcising. Death of the last mule. Rescue of
    Chirikaloma's wife. Brutalities of the slave-drivers. Mtarika's.
    Desperate march to Mtaka's. Meets Arab caravans. Dismay of
    slavers. Dismissal of sepoys. Mataka. The Waiyau metropolis.
    Great hospitality and good feeling. Mataka restores stolen
    cattle. Life with the chief. Beauty of country and healthiness
    of climate. The Waiyau people and their peculiarities. Regrets
    at the abandonment of Bishop Mackenzie's plans.

CHAPTER IV.

    Geology and description of the Waiyau land. Leaves Mataka's. The
    Nyumbo plant. Native iron-foundry. Blacksmiths. Makes for the
    Lake Nyassa. Delight at seeing the Lake once more. The Manganja
    or Nyassa tribe. Arab slave crossing. Unable to procure passage
    across. The Kungu fly. Fear of the English amongst slavers. Lake
    shore. Blue ink. Chitané changes colour. The Nsaka fish.
    Makalaosé drinks beer. The Sanjika fish. London antiquities.
    Lake rivers. Mukaté's. Lake Pamalombé. Mponda's. A slave gang.
    Wikatani discovers his relatives and remains.

CHAPTER V.

    Crosses Cape Maclear. The havildar demoralised. The discomfited
    chief. Reaches Marenga's town. The earth-sponge. Description of
    Marenga's town. Rumours of Mazitu. Musa and the Johanna men
    desert. Reaches Kimsusa's. His delight at seeing the Doctor once
    more. The fat ram. Kimsusa relates his experience of
    Livingstone's advice. Chuma finds relatives. Kimsusa solves the
    transport difficulty nobly. Another old fishing acquaintance.
    Description of the people and country on the west of the Lake.
    The Kanthundas. Kauma. Iron-smelting. An African Sir Colin
    Campbell. Milandos.

CHAPTER VI.

    Progress northwards. An African forest. Destruction by Mazitu.
    Native salutations. A disagreeable chief. On the watershed
    between the Lake and the Loangwa River. Extensive iron-workings.
    An old Nimrod. The Bua River. Lovely scenery. Difficulties of
    transport. Chilobé. An African Pythoness. Enlists two Waiyou
    bearers. Ill. The Chitella bean. Rains set in. Arrives at the
    Loangwa.

CHAPTER VII.

    Crosses the Loangwa. Distressing march. The king-hunter. Great
    hunger. Christmas feast necessarily postponed. Loss of goats.
    Honey-hunters. A meal at last. The Babisa. The Mazitu again.
    Chitembo's. End of 1866. The new year. The northern brim of the
    great Loangwa Valley. Accident to chronometers. Meal gives out.
    Escape from a Cobra capella. Pushes for the Chambezé. Death of
    Chitané. Great pinch for food. Disastrous loss of medicine
    chest. Bead currency. Babisa. The Chambezé. Reaches
    Chitapangwa's town. Meets Arab traders from Zanzibar. Sends off
    letters. Chitapangwa and his people. Complications.

CHAPTER VIII.

    Chitapangwa's parting oath. Course laid for Lake Tanganyika.
    Moamba's village. Another watershed. The Babemba tribe. Ill with
    fever. Threatening attitude of Chibué's people. Continued
    illness. Reaches cliffs overhanging Lake Liemba. Extreme beauty
    of the scene. Dangerous fit of insensibility. Leaves the Lake.
    Pernambuco cotton. Rumours of war between Arabs and Nsama.
    Reaches Chitimba's village. Presents Sultan's letter to
    principal Arab, Hamees. The war in Itawa. Geography of the
    Arabs. Ivory traders and slave-dealers. Appeal to the Koran.
    Gleans intelligence of the Wasongo, to the eastward, and their
    chief, Meréré. Hamees sets out against Nsama. Tedious sojourn.
    Departure for Ponda. Native cupping.

CHAPTER IX.

    Peace negotiations with Nsama. Geographical gleanings. Curious
    spider. Reaches the River Lofu. Arrives at Nsama's. Hamees
    marries the daughter of Nsama. Flight of the bride.
    Conflagration in Arab quarters. Anxious to visit Lake Moero.
    Arab burial. Serious illness. Continues journey. Slave-traders
    on the march. Reaches Moero. Description of the Lake.
    Information concerning the Chambezé and Luapula. Hears of Lake
    Bemba. Visits spot of Dr. Lacerda's death. Casembe apprised of
    Livingstone's approach. Meets Mohamad Bogharib. Lakelet Mofwé.
    Arrives at Casembe's town.

CHAPTER X.

    Grand reception of the traveller. Casembe and his wife. Long
    stay in the town. Goes to explore Moero. Despatch to Lord
    Clarendon, with notes on recent travels. Illness at the end of
    1867. Further exploration of Lake Moero. Flooded plains. The
    River Luao. Visits Kabwabwata. Joy of Arabs at Mohamad bin
    Salleh's freedom. Again ill with fever. Stories of underground
    dwellings.

CHAPTER XI

    Riot in the camp. Mohamad's account of his long imprisonment.
    Superstitions about children's teeth. Concerning dreams. News of
    Lake Chowambé. Life of the Arab slavers. The Katanga gold
    supply. Muabo. Ascent of the Rua Mountains. Syde bin Habib.
    Birthday, 19th March, 1868. Hostility of Mpwéto. Contemplates
    visiting Lake Bemba. Nile sources. Men desert. The shores of
    Moero. Visits Fungafunga. Return to Casembe's. Obstructiveness
    of "Cropped-ears." Accounts of Pereira and Dr. Lacerda. Major
    Monteiro. The line of Casembes. Casembe explains the connection
    of the Lakes and the Luapula. Queen Moäri. Arab sacrifice.
    Kapika gets rid of his wife.

CHAPTER XII.

    Prepares to examine Lake Bemba. Starts from Casembe's 11th June,
    1868. Dead leopard. Moenampanda's reception. The River Luongo.
    Weird death-song of slaves. The forest grave. Lake Bemba changed
    to Lake Bangweolo. Chikumbi's. The Imbozhwa people. Kombokombo's
    stockade. Mazitu difficulties. Discovers Lake Bangweolo on 18th
    July, 1868. The Lake Chief Mapuni. Description of the Lake.
    Prepares to navigate it. Embarks for Lifungé Island. Immense
    size of Lake. Reaches Mpabala Island. Strange dream. Fears of
    canoe men. Return to shore. March back. Sends letters. Meets
    Banyamwezi. Reviews recent explorations at length. Disturbed
    state of country.

CHAPTER XIII.

    Cataracts of the Kalongosi. Passage of the river disputed.
    Leeches and method of detaching them. Syde bin Habib's slaves
    escape. Enormous collection of tusks. Ill. Theory of the Nile
    sources. Tribute to Miss Tinné. Notes on climate. Separation of
    Lake Nyassa from the Nile system. Observations on Victoria
    Nyanza. Slaves dying. Repentant deserters. Mohamad Bogharib.
    Enraged Imbozhwa. An attack. Narrow escape. Renewed attack. A
    parley. Help arrives. Bin Juma. March from the Imbozhwa country.
    Slaves escape. Burial of Syde bin Habib's brother. Singular
    custom. An elephant killed. Native game-laws. Rumour of Baker's
    Expedition. Christmas dinners.




ILLUSTRATIONS.

    [DR. LIVINGSTONE, though no artist, had acquired a practice of
    making rude sketches of scenes and objects, which have furnished
    material for the Engravers in the Illustrations for this book.]

Full-page Illustrations.

    1. PORTRAIT OF DR. LIVINGSTONE. (From a Photograph by ANNAN)
    2. SLAVERS REVENGING THEIR LOSSES
    3. SLAVES ABANDONED
    4. CHITAPANGWA RECEIVING DR. LIVINGSTONE
    5. THE VILLAGE ON LAKE LIEMBA--TANGANYIKA
    6. THE ARRIVAL OF HAMEES' BRIDE
    7. DISCOVERY OF LAKE BANGWEOLO

Smaller Illustrations.

     1. DR. LIVINGSTONE'S HOUSE, ZANZIBAR
     2. DHOW USED FOR TRANSPORT OF DR. LIVINGSTONE'S CAMELS
     3. A THORN-CLIMBER
     4. TOMAHAWK AND AXE
     5. CARVED DOOR, ZANZIBAR
     6. TATTOO OF MATAMBWÉ
     7. IMITATION OF BASKET-WORK IN POTTERY
     8. DIGGING-STICK WEIGHTED WITH ROUND STONE
     9. MANGANJA AND MACHINGA WOMEN
    10. TATOO ON WOMEN
    11. CARVED STOOL MADE OF A SINGLE WOODEN BLOCK
    12. WOMEN'S TEETH HOLLOWED OUT
    13. MODE OF FORGING HOES
    14. MALLET FOR SEPARATING FIBRES OF BARK
    15. THE CHIEF CHITAPANGWA
    16. CHITAPANGWA'S WIVES
    17. FILED TEETH OF QUEEN MOÄH
    18. A FOREST GRAVE

GENERAL MAP OF DR. LIVINGSTONE'S OWN DISCOVERIES




CHAPTER I.

    Arrival at Zanzibar. Hearty reception by Said Majid, the Sultan.
    Murder of Baron van der Decken. The slave-market. Preparations
    for starting to the interior. Embarkation in H.M.S. _Penguin_
    and dhow. Rovuma Bay impracticable. Disembarks at Mikindany. Joy
    at travelling once more. Trouble with sepoys. Camels attacked by
    tsetse fly, and by sepoys. Jungle sappers. Meets old enemies.
    The Makondé. Lake Nangandi. Gum-copal diggings.


ZANZIBAR, _28th January, 1866._--After a passage of twenty-three days
from Bombay we arrived at this island in the _Thule_, which was one of
Captain Sherard Osborne's late Chinese fleet, and now a present from
the Bombay Government to the Sultan of Zanzibar. I was honoured with
the commission to make the formal presentation, and this was intended
by H.E. the Governor-in-Council to show in how much estimation I was
held, and thereby induce the Sultan to forward my enterprise. The
letter to his Highness was a commendatory epistle in my favour, for
which consideration on the part of Sir Bartle Frere I feel deeply
grateful. It runs as follows:--

    TO HIS HIGHNESS SEJUEL MAJID, SULTAN OF ZANZIBAR.

    (_Copy._)

    "YOUR HIGHNESS,--I trust that this will find you in the
    enjoyment of health and happiness.

    "I have requested my friend, Dr. David Livingstone, who is
    already personally well and favourably known to your Highness,
    to convey to you the assurance of the continual friendship and
    goodwill of Her Majesty's Government in India.

    "Your Highness is already aware of the benevolent objects of Dr.
    Livingstone's life and labours, and I feel assured that your
    Highness will continue to him the favour and protection which
    you have already shown to him on former occasions, and that your
    Highness will direct every aid to be given him within your
    Highness's dominions which may tend to further the philanthropic
    designs to which he has devoted himself, and which, as your
    Highness is aware, are viewed with the warmest interest by Her
    Majesty's Government both in India and England.

    "I trust your Highness will favour me with continued accounts of
    your good health and welfare.

    "I remain, your Highness's sincere friend,

    (Signed) "H.B.E. FRERE.

    "BOMBAY CASTLE, _2nd January, 1866._"

When we arrived Dr. Seward, the Acting Consul, was absent at the
Seychelles on account of serious failure of health: Mr. Schultz,
however, was representing him, but he too was at the time away. Dr.
Seward was expected back daily, and he did arrive on the 31st. I
requested a private interview with the Sultan, and on the following
day (29th) called and told him the nature of my commission to his
Highness. He was very gracious, and seemed pleased with the gift, as
well he might, for the _Thule_ is fitted up in the most gorgeous
manner. We asked a few days to put her in perfect order, and this
being the Ramadân, or fasting month, he was all the more willing to
defer a visit to the vessel.

Dr. Seward arranged to have an audience with the Sultan, to carry out
his instructions, which were to present me in a formal manner; Captain
Bradshaw of the _Wasp_, with Captain Leatham of the _Vigilant_, and
Bishop Tozer, were to accompany us in full dress, but the Sultan had a
toothache and gumboil, and could not receive us; he, however, placed
one of his houses at my disposal, and appointed a man who speaks
English to furnish board for my men and me, and also for Captain
Brebner, of the _Thule_, and his men.

[Illustration: Livingstone's House, Zanzibar.]

_6th February, 1866._--The Sultan being still unable to come, partly
on account of toothache and partly on account of Ramadân, he sent his
commodore, Captain Abdullah, to receive the _Thule_. When the English
flag was hauled down in the _Thule_, it went up to the mainmast of the
_Iskander Shah_, and was saluted by twenty-one guns; then the _Wasp_
saluted the Arab flag with an equal number, which honour being duly
acknowledged by a second royal salute from the _Iskander Shah_,
Captain Abdullah's frigate, the ceremony ended.

Next day, the 7th, we were received by the Sultan, and through his
interpreter, I told him that his friend, the Governor of Bombay, had
lately visited the South Mahratta Princes, and had pressed on them the
necessity of education; the world was moving on, and those who
neglected to acquire knowledge would soon find that power slipped
through their fingers, and that the Bombay Government, in presenting
his Highness with a portion of steam power, showed its desire to
impart one of the greatest improvements of modern times, not desiring
to monopolize power, but hoping to lift up others with themselves, and
I wished him to live a hundred years and enjoy all happiness. The idea
was borrowed partly from Sir Bartle Frere's addresses, because I
thought it would have more weight if he heard a little from that
source than if it emanated from myself. He was very anxious that
Captain Brebner and his men, in returning to India, should take a
passage from him in the _Nadir Shah_, one of his men-of-war, and
though he had already placed his things aboard the _Vigilant_, to
proceed to Seychelles, and thence to Bombay, we persuaded Captain
Brebner to accept his Highness's hospitality. He had evidently set his
heart on sending them back with suitable honours, and an hour after
consent was given to go by the _Nadir Shah_, he signed an order for
the money to fit her out.

_11th February, 1866._--One of the foremost subjects that naturally
occupied my mind here was the sad loss of the Baron van der Decken, on
the River Juba, or Aljib. The first intimation of the unfortunate
termination of his explorations was the appearance of Lieutenant von
Schich at this place, who had left without knowing whether his leader
were dead or alive, but an attack had been made on the encampment
which had been planned after the steamer struck the rocks and filled,
and two of the Europeans were killed. The attacking party came from
the direction in which the Baron and Dr. Link went, and three men of
note in it were slain. Von Schich went back from Zanzibar to Brava to
ascertain the fate of the Baron, and meanwhile several native sailors
from Zanzibar had been allowed to escape from the scene of confusion
to Brava.

_18th February, 1866._--All the Europeans went to pay visits of
congratulation to his Highness the Sultan upon the conclusion of the
Ramadân, when sweetmeats were placed before us. He desired me to thank
the Governor of Bombay for his magnificent gift, and to state that
although he would like to have me always with him, yet he would show
me the same favour in Africa which he had done here: he added that the
_Thule_ was at my service to take me to the Rovuma whenever I wished
to leave. I replied that nothing had been wanting on his part; he had
done more than I expected, and I was sure that his Excellency the
Governor would be delighted to hear that the vessel promoted his
health and prosperity; nothing would delight him more than this. He
said that he meant to go out in her on Wednesday next (20th): Bishop
Tozer, Captain Fraser, Dr. Steere, and all the English were present.
The sepoys came in and did obeisance; and I pointed out the Nassick
lads as those who had been rescued from slavery, educated, and sent
back to their own country by the Governor. Surely he must see that
some people in the world act from other than selfish motives.

In the afternoon Sheikh Sulieman, his secretary, came with a letter
for the Governor, to be conveyed by Lieutenant Brebner, I.N., in the
_Nadir Shah_, which is to sail to-morrow. He offered money to the
lieutenant, but this could not be heard of for a moment.

The translation of the letter is as follows, and is an answer to that
which I brought.

    TO HIS EXCELLENCY THE GOVERNOR OF BOMBAY.

    [After compliments.]


    "... The end of my desire is to know ever that your
    Excellency's health is good. As for me--your friend--I am very
    well.

    "Your honoured letter borne by Dr. Livingstone duly reached me,
    and all that you said about him I understood.

    "I will show him respect, give him honour, and help him in all
    his affairs; and that I have already done this, I trust he will
    tell you.

    "I hope you will let me rest in your heart, and that you will
    send me many letters.

    "If you need anything I shall be glad, and will give it.

    "Your sincere friend,

    "MAJID BIN SAID.

    "Dated 2nd Shaul, 1282 (18th February, 1866)."

_2nd March, 1866._--A northern dhow came in with slaves; when this was
reported to the Sultan he ordered it to be burned, and we saw this
done from the window of the Consulate; but he has very little power
over Northern Arabs. He has shown a little vigour of late. He wished
to raise a revenue by a charge of 10 per cent. on all articles brought
into town for sale, but this is clearly contrary to treaty, which
provides that no monopoly shall be permitted, and no dues save that of
5 per cent. import duty. The French Consul bullies him: indeed the
French system of dealing with the natives is well expressed by that
word; no wonder they cannot gain influence among them: the greatest
power they exercise is by lending their flag to slaving dhows, so that
it covers that nefarious traffic.

The stench arising from a mile and a half or two square miles of
exposed sea beach, which is the general depository of the filth of the
town, is quite horrible. At night it is so gross or crass one might
cut out a slice and manure a garden with it: it might be called
Stinkibar rather than Zanzibar. No one can long enjoy good health
here.

On visiting the slave-market I found about 300 slaves exposed for
sale, the greater part of whom came from Lake Nyassa and the Shiré
River; I am so familiar with the peculiar faces and markings or
tattooings, that I expect them to recognize me. Indeed one woman said
that she had heard of our passing up Lake Nyassa in a boat, but she
did not see me: others came from Chipéta, S.W. of the Lake. All who
have grown up seem ashamed at being hawked about for sale. The teeth
are examined, the cloth lifted up to examine the lower limbs, and a
stick is thrown for the slave to bring, and thus exhibit his paces.
Some are dragged through the crowd by the hand, and the price called
out incessantly: most of the purchasers were Northern Arabs and
Persians. This is the period when the Sultan's people may not carry
slaves coastwise; but they simply cannot, for the wind is against
them. Many of the dhows leave for Madagascar, and thence come back to
complete their cargoes.

The Arabs are said to treat their slaves kindly, and this also may be
said of native masters; the reason is, master and slave partake of the
general indolence, but the lot of the slave does not improve with the
general progress in civilization. While no great disparity of rank
exists, his energies are little tasked, but when society advances,
wants multiply; and to supply these the slave's lot grows harder. The
distance between master and man increases as the lust of gain is
developed, hence we can hope for no improvement in the slave's
condition, unless the master returns to or remains in barbarism.

_6th March, 1866._--Rains have begun now that the sun is overhead. We
expect the _Penguin_ daily to come from Johanna, and take us to the
Rovuma. It is an unwholesome place; six of my men have fever; few
retain health long, and considering the lowness of the island, and the
absence of sanitary regulations in the town, it is not to be wondered
at. The Sultan has little power, being only the successor to the
captain of the horde of Arabs who came down and overran the island and
maritime coasts of the adjacent continent. He is called only Said or
Syed, never Sultan; and they can boast of choosing a new one if he
does not suit them. Some coins were found in digging here which have
Cufic inscriptions, and are about 900 years old. The island is low;
the highest parts may not be more than 150 feet above the sea; it is
of a coral formation, with sandstone conglomerate. Most of the plants
are African, but clove-trees, mangoes, and cocoa-nut groves give a
luxuriant South Sea Island look to the whole scenery.

We visited an old man to-day, the richest in Zanzibar, who is to give
me letters to his friends at Tanganyika, and I am trying to get a
depôt of goods for provisions formed there, so that when I reach it I
may not be destitute.

_18th March, 1866._--I have arranged with Koorje, a Banian, who farms
the custom-house revenue here, to send a supply of beads, cloth,
flour, tea, coffee, and sugar, to Ujiji, on Lake Tanganyika. The Arab
there, with whom one of Koorje's people will remain in charge of the
goods, is called Thani bin Suelim.

Yesterday we went to take leave of the Sultan, and to thank him for
all his kindness to me and my men, which has indeed been very great.
He offered me men to go with me, and another letter if I wished it. He
looks very ill.

I have received very great kindness during my stay from Dr. and Mrs.
Seward. They have done everything for me in their power: may God
Almighty return it all abundantly into their bosoms, in the way that
He best can. Dr. Seward's views of the policy pursued here I have no
doubt are the right ones; in fact, the only ones which can be looked
back to with satisfaction, or that have probability of success among a
race of Pariah Arabs.

The _Penguin_ came a few days ago, and Lieutenant Garforth in command
agrees to take me down to the Rovuma River, and land me there. I have
a dhow to take my animals: six camels, three buffaloes, and a calf,
two mules, and four donkeys. I have thirteen Sepoys, ten Johanna men,
nine Nassick boys, two Shupanga men, and two Wayaus, Wekatani and
Chuma.[3]

[It may be well to point out that several of these men had previously
been employed by Dr. Livingstone on the Zambesi and Shiré; thus Musa,
the Johanna man, was a sailor on the _Lady Nyassa_, whilst Susi and
Amoda were engaged at Shupanga to cut wood for the _Pioneer_. The two
Waiyau lads, Wakatani and Chuma, were liberated from the slavers by
the Doctor and Bishop Mackenzie in 1861, and lived for three years
with the Mission party at Chibisa's before they were engaged by
Livingstone. The Nassick lads were entire strangers, and were trained
in India.]

_19th March, 1866._--We start this morning at 10 A.M. I trust that the
Most High may prosper me in this work, granting me influence in the
eyes of the heathen, and helping me to make my intercourse beneficial
to them.

_22nd March, 1866._--We reached Rovuma Bay to-day, and anchored about
two miles from the mouth of the river, in five fathoms. I went up the
left bank to see if the gullies which formerly ran into the bay had
altered, so as to allow camels to cross them: they seemed to have
become shallower. There was no wind for the dhow, and as for the
man-of-war towing her, it was out of the question. On the 23rd the
cutter did try to tow the dhow, but without success, as a strong tide
runs constantly out of the river at this season. A squall came up from
the S.E., which would have taken the dhow in, but the master was on
board the _Penguin_, and said he had no large sail. I got him off to
his vessel, but the wind died away before we could reach the mouth of
the river.

_24th March, 1866._--I went to the dhow, and there being no wind I
left orders with the captain to go up the right bank should a breeze
arise. Mr. Fane, midshipman, accompanied me up the left bank above, to
see if we could lead the camels along in the water. Near the point
where the river first makes a little bend to the north, we landed and
found three formidable gullies, and jungle so thick with bush,
date-palms, twining bamboo, and hooked thorns, that one could scarcely
get along. Further inland it was sticky mud, thickly planted over with
mangrove roots and gullies in whose soft banks one sank over the
ankles. No camels could have moved, and men with extreme difficulty
might struggle through; but we never could have made an available
road. We came to a she-hippopotamus lying in a ditch, which did not
cover her; Mr. Fane fired into her head, and she was so upset that she
nearly fell backward in plunging up the opposite bank: her calf was
killed, and was like sucking-pig, though in appearance as large as a
full-grown sow.

We now saw that the dhow had a good breeze, and she came up along the
right bank and grounded at least a mile from the spot where the
mangroves ceased. The hills, about two hundred feet high, begin about
two or three miles above that, and they looked invitingly green and
cool. My companion and I went from the dhow inland, to see if the
mangroves gave way, to a more walkable country, but the swamp covered
over thickly with mangroves only became worse the farther we receded
from the river. The whole is flooded at high tides, and had we landed
all the men we should have been laid up with fever ere we could have
attained the higher land, which on the right bank bounds the line of
vision, and the first part of which lies so near. I thought I had
better land on the sand belt on the left of Rovuma Bay, and then
explore and get information from the natives, none of whom had as yet
come near us, so I ordered the dhow to come down to the spot next day,
and went on board the _Penguin_. Lieutenant Garforth was excessively
kind, and though this is his best time for cruising in the North, he
most patiently agreed to wait and help me to land.

_24th March, 1866._--During the night it occurred to me that we should
be in a mess if after exploration and information from the natives we
could find no path, and when I mentioned this, Lieutenant Garforth
suggested that we should proceed to Kilwa, so at 5 A.M. I went up to
the dhow with Mr. Fane, and told the captain that we were going there.
He was loud in his protestations against this, and strongly
recommended the port of Mikindany, as quite near to Rovuma, Nyassa,
and the country I wished to visit, besides being a good landing-place,
and the finest port on the coast. Thither we went, and on the same
evening landed all our animals in Mikindany bay, which lies only
twenty-five miles N. of Rovuma. The _Penguin_ then left.

The Rovuma is quite altered from what it was when first we visited it.
It is probable that the freshets form banks inside the mouth, which
are washed out into the deep bay, and this periodical formation
probably has prevented the Arabs from using the Rovuma as a port of
shipment. It is not likely that Mr. May[4] would have made a mistake
if the middle were as shoal as now: he found soundings of three
fathoms or more.

[Illustration: Dhow used for Transport of Dr. Livingstone's Camels.]

_25th March, 1866._--I hired a house for four dollars a month and
landed all our goods from the dhow. The bay gives off a narrow
channel, about 500 yards wide and 200 yards long, the middle is deep,
but the sides are coral reefs and shoal: the deep part seems about 100
yards wide. Outside in the Bay of Mikindany there is no anchorage
except on the edge of the reef where the _Penguin_ got seven fathoms,
but further in it was only two fathoms. The inner bay is called Pemba,
not Pimlea, as erroneously printed in the charts of Owen. It is deep
and quite sheltered; another of a similar round form lies somewhat to
the south: this bay may be two miles square.

The cattle are all very much the worse for being knocked about in the
dhow. We began to prepare saddles of a very strong tree called Ntibwé,
which is also used for making the hooked spear with which hippopotami
are killed--the hook is very strong and tough; I applied also for
twenty carriers and a Banian engaged to get them as soon as possible.
The people have no cattle here, they are half-caste Arabs mostly, and
quite civil to us.

_26th March, 1866._--A few of the Nassick boys have the slave spirit
pretty strongly; it goes deepest in those who have the darkest skins.
Two Gallah men are the most intelligent and hardworking among them;
some look on work with indifference when others are the actors.

Now that I am on the point of starting on another trip into Africa I
feel quite exhilarated: when one travels with the specific object in
view of ameliorating the condition of the natives every act becomes
ennobled.

Whether exchanging the customary civilities, or arriving at a village,
accepting a night's lodging, purchasing food for the party, asking for
information, or answering polite African enquiries as to our objects
in travelling, we begin to spread a knowledge of that people by whose
agency their land will yet become enlightened and freed from the
slave-trade.

The mere animal pleasure of travelling in a wild unexplored country is
very great. When on lands of a couple of thousand feet elevation,
brisk exercise imparts elasticity to the muscles, fresh and healthy
blood circulates through the brain, the mind works well, the eye is
clear, the step is firm, and a day's exertion always makes the
evening's repose thoroughly enjoyable.

We have usually the stimulus of remote chances of danger either from
beasts or men. Our sympathies are drawn out towards our humble hardy
companions by a community of interests, and, it may be, of perils,
which make us all friends. Nothing but the most pitiable puerility
would lead any manly heart to make their inferiority a theme for
self-exaltation; however, that is often done, as if with the vague
idea that we can, by magnifying their deficiencies, demonstrate our
immaculate perfections.

The effect of travel on a man whose heart is in the right place is
that the mind is made more self-reliant: it becomes more confident of
its own resources--there is greater presence of mind. The body is soon
well-knit; the muscles of the limbs grow as hard as a board, and seem
to have no fat; the countenance is bronzed, and there is no dyspepsia.
Africa is a most wonderful country for appetite, and it is only when
one gloats over marrow bones or elephant's feet that indigestion is
possible. No doubt much toil is involved, and fatigue of which
travellers in the more temperate climes can form but a faint
conception; but the sweat of one's brow is no longer a curse when one
works for God: it proves a tonic to the system, and is actually a
blessing. No one can truly appreciate the charm of repose unless he
has undergone severe exertion.

_27th March, 1866._--The point of land which on the north side of the
entrance to the harbour narrows it to about 300 yards is alone called
Pemba; the other parts have different names. Looking northwards from
the point, the first hundred yards has ninety square houses of wattled
daub; a ruin (a mosque) has been built of lime and coral. The whole
point is coral, and the soil is red, and covered over with dense
tropical vegetation, in which the baobab is conspicuous. Dhows at
present come in with ease by the easterly wind which blows in the
evening, and leave next morning, the land wind taking them out.

While the camels and other animals are getting over their fatigues
and bad bruises, we are making camels' saddles, and repairing those of
the mules and buffaloes. Oysters abound on all the rocks and on the
trees over which the tide flows: they are small, but much relished by
the people.

The Arabs here are a wretched lot physically--thin, washed-out
creatures--many with bleared eyes.

_29-30th March, 1866._--- This harbour has somewhat the shape of a
bent bow or the spade on a playing-card, the shaft of the arrow being
the entrance in; the passage is very deep, but not more than 100 yards
wide, and it goes in nearly S.W.; inside it is deep and quite secure,
and protected from all winds. The lands westward rise at once to about
200 feet, and John, a hill, is the landmark by which it is best known
in coming along the coast--so say the Arabs. The people have no
cattle, but say there are no tsetse flies: they have not been
long here, _i.e._ under the present system; but a ruin on the
northern peninsula or face of the entrance, built of stone and
lime--Arab-fashion, and others on the north-west, show that the place
has been known and used of old. The adjacent country has large game at
different water pools, and as the whole country is somewhat elevated
it probably is healthy. There is very little mangrove, but another
enclosed piece of water to the south of this probably has more. The
language of the people here is Swaheli; they trade a little in
gum-copal and Orchilla weed. An agent of the Zanzibar custom-house
presides over the customs, which are very small, and a jemidar
acknowledging the Sultan is the chief authority; but the people are
little superior to the natives whom they have displaced. The jemidar
has been very civil to me, and gives me two guides to go on to Adondé,
but no carriers can be hired. Water is found in wells in the coral
rock which underlies the whole place.

_4th April, 1866._--When about to start from Pemba, at the entrance to
the other side of the bay one of our buffaloes gored a donkey so
badly that he had to be shot: we cut off the tips of the offender's
horns, on the principle of "locking the stable-door when the steed is
stolen," and marched. We came to level spots devoid of vegetation, and
hard on the surface, but a deposit of water below allowed the camels
to sink up to their bodies through the crust. Hauling them out, we got
along to the jemidar's house, which is built of coral and lime. Hamesh
was profuse in his professions of desire to serve, but gave a shabby
hut which let in rain and wind. I slept one night in it, and it was
unbearable, so I asked the jemidar to allow me to sleep in his
court-room, where many of the sepoys were: he consented, but when I
went refused; then, being an excitable, nervous Arab, he took fright,
mustered all his men, amounting to about fifteen, with matchlocks; ran
off, saying he was going to kill a lion; came back, shook hands
nervously with me, vowing it was a man who would not obey him, "it was
not you."

Our goods were all out in the street, bound on the pack-saddles, so at
night we took the ordinary precaution of setting a guard. This excited
our dignitary, and after dark all his men were again mustered with
matches lighted. I took no notice of him, and after he had spent a
good deal of talk, which we could hear, he called Musa and asked what
I meant. The explanations of Musa had the effect of sending him to
bed, and in the morning, when I learned how much I had most
unintentionally disturbed him, I told him that I was sorry, but it did
not occur to me to tell him about an ordinary precaution against
thieves. He thought he had given me a crushing reply when he said with
vehemence, "But there are no thieves here." I did not know till
afterwards that he and others had done me an ill turn in saying that
no carriers could be hired from the independent tribes adjacent. They
are low-coast Arabs, three-quarters African, and, as usual, possess
the bad without the good qualities of both parents. Many of them came
and begged brandy, and laughed when they remarked that they could
drink it in secret but not openly; they have not, however, introduced
it as an article of trade, as we Christians have done on the West
Coast.

_6th April, 1866._--We made a short march round to the south-west side
of the Lake, and spent the night at a village in that direction. There
are six villages dotted round the inner harbour, and the population
may amount to 250 or 300 souls--coast Arabs and their slaves; the
southern portion of the harbour is deep, from ten to fourteen fathoms,
but the north-western part is shoal and rocky. Very little is done in
the way of trade; some sorghum, sem-sem seed, gum-copal, and orchilla
weed, constitute the commerce of the port: I saw two Banian traders
settled here.

_7th April, 1866._--Went about south from Kindany with a Somalie
guide, named Ben Ali or Bon Ali, a good-looking obliging man, who was
to get twenty dollars to take us up to Ngomano. Our path lay in a
valley, with well-wooded heights on each side, but the grass towered
over our heads, and gave the sensation of smothering, whilst the sun
beat down on our heads very fiercely, and there was not a breath of
air stirring. Not understanding camels, I had to trust to the sepoys
who overloaded them, and before we had accomplished our march of about
seven miles they were knocked up.

_8th April, 1866._--We spent the Sunday at a village called Nyañgedi.
Here on the evening of the 7th April our buffaloes and camels were
first bitten by the tsetse fly.[5] We had passed through some pieces
of dense jungle which, though they offered no obstruction to
foot-passengers, but rather an agreeable shade, had to be cut for the
tall camels, and fortunately we found the Makondé of this village
glad to engage themselves by the day either as woodcutters or
carriers. We had left many things with the jemidar from an idea that
no carriers could be procured. I lightened the camels, and had a party
of woodcutters to heighten and widen the path in the dense jungle into
which we now penetrated. Every now and then we emerged on open spaces,
where the Makondé have cleared gardens for sorghum, maize, and
cassava. The people were very much more taken up with the camels and
buffaloes than with me. They are all independent of each other, and no
paramount chief exists. Their foreheads may be called compact, narrow,
and rather low; the _alae nasi_ expanded laterally; lips full, not
excessively thick; limbs and body well formed; hands and feet small;
colour dark and light-brown; height middle size, and bearing
independent.

_10th April, 1866._--We reached a village called Narri, lat. 10° 23'
14" S. Many of the men had touches of fever. I gave medicine to eleven
of them, and next morning all were better. Food is abundant and cheap.
Our course is nearly south, and in "wadys," from which, following the
trade-road, we often ascend the heights, and then from the villages,
which are on the higher land, we descend to another on the same wady.
No running water is seen; the people depend on wells for a supply.

_11th April, 1866._--At Tandahara we were still ascending as we went
south; the soil is very fertile, with a good admixture of sand in it,
but no rocks are visible. Very heavy crops of maize and sorghum are
raised, and the cassava bushes are seven feet in height. The bamboos
are cleared off them, spread over the space to be cultivated and
burned to serve as manure. Iron is very scarce, for many of the men
appear with wooden spears; they find none here, but in some spots
where an ooze issued from the soil iron rust appeared. At each of the
villages where we spent a night we presented a fathom of calico, and
the headman always gave a fowl or two, and a basket of rice or maize.
The Makondé dialect is quite different from Swaheli, but from their
intercourse with the coast Arabs many of the people here have acquired
a knowledge of Swaheli.

[Illustration: A Thorn-climber.]

_12th April, 1866._--On starting we found the jungle so dense that the
people thought "there was no cutting it:" it continued upwards of
three miles. The trees are not large, but so closely planted together
that a great deal of labour was required to widen and heighten the
path: where bamboos prevail they have starved out the woody trees. The
reason why the trees are not large is because all the spaces we passed
over were formerly garden ground before the Makondé had been thinned
by the slave-trade. As soon as a garden is deserted, a thick crop of
trees of the same sorts as those formerly cut down springs up, and
here the process of woody trees starving out their fellows, and
occupying the land without dense scrub below, has not had time to work
itself out. Many are mere poles, and so intertwined with climbers as
to present the appearance of a ship's ropes and cables shaken in among
them, and many have woody stems as thick as an eleven-inch hawser. One
species may be likened to the scabbard of a dragoon's sword, but along
the middle of the flat side runs a ridge, from which springs up every
few inches a bunch of inch-long straight sharp thorns. It hangs
straight for a couple of yards, but as if it could not give its thorns
a fair chance of mischief, it suddenly bends on itself, and all its
cruel points are now at right angles to what they were before.
Darwin's observation shows a great deal of what looks like instinct in
these climbers. This species seems to be eager for mischief; its
tangled limbs hang out ready to inflict injury on all passers-by.
Another climber is so tough it is not to be broken by the fingers;
another appears at its root as a young tree, but it has the straggling
habits of its class, as may be seen by its cords stretched some fifty
or sixty feet off; it is often two inches in diameter; you cut it
through at one part and find it reappear forty yards off.

[Illustration: Tomahawk and Axe.]

Another climber is like the leaf of an aloe, but convoluted as
strangely as shavings from the plane of a carpenter. It is dark green
in colour, and when its bark is taken off it is beautifully striated
beneath, lighter and darker green, like the rings of growth on wood;
still another is a thin string with a succession of large knobs, and
another has its bark pinched up all round at intervals so as to
present a great many cutting edges. One sort need scarcely be
mentioned, in which all along its length are strong bent hooks, placed
in a way that will hold one if it can but grapple with him, for that
is very common and not like those mentioned, which the rather seem to
be stragglers from the carboniferous period of geologists, when
Pachydermata wriggled unscathed among tangled masses worse than these.
We employed about ten jolly young Makondé to deal with these
prehistoric plants in their own way, for they are accustomed to
clearing spaces for gardens, and went at the work with a will, using
tomahawks well adapted for the work. They whittled away right
manfully, taking an axe when any trees had to be cut. Their pay,
arranged beforehand, was to be one yard of calico per day: this is not
much, seeing we are still so near the sea-coast. Climbers and young
trees melted before them like a cloud before the sun! Many more would
have worked than we employed, but we used the precaution of taking
the names of those engaged. The tall men became exhausted soonest,
while the shorter men worked vigorously still--but a couple of days'
hard work seemed to tell on the best of them. It is doubtful if any
but meat-eating people can stand long-continued labour without
exhaustion: the Chinese may be an exception. When French navvies were
first employed they could not do a tithe of the work of our English
ones; but when the French were fed in the same style as the English,
they performed equally well. Here the Makondé have rarely the chance
of a good feed of meat: it is only when one of them is fortunate
enough to spear a wild hog or an antelope that they know this luxury;
if a fowl is eaten they get but a taste of it with their porridge.

_13th April, 1866._--We now began to descend the northern slope down
to the Rovuma, and a glimpse could occasionally be had of the country;
it seemed covered with great masses of dark green forest, but the
undulations occasionally looked like hills, and here and there a
Sterculia had put on yellow foliage in anticipation of the coming
winter. More frequently our vision was circumscribed to a few yards
till our merry woodcutters made for us the pleasant scene of a long
vista fit for camels to pass: as a whole, the jungle would have made
the authors of the natty little hints to travellers smile at their own
productions, good enough, perhaps, where one has an open country with
trees and hills; by which to take bearings, estimate distances, see
that one point is on the same latitude, another on the same longitude
with such another, and all to be laid down fair and square with
protractor and compass, but so long as we remained within the
vegetation, that is fed by the moisture from the Indian Ocean, the
steamy, smothering air, and dank, rank, luxuriant vegetation made me
feel, like it, struggling for existence,--and no more capable of
taking bearings than if I had been in a hogshead and observing through
the bunghole!

An old Monyiñko headman presented a goat and asked if the sepoys
wished to cut its throat: the Johannees, being of a different sect of
Mahometans, wanted to cut it in some other way than their Indian
co-religionists: then ensued a fierce dispute as to who was of the
right sort of Moslem! It was interesting to see that not Christians
alone, but other nations feel keenly on religious subjects.

I saw rocks of grey sandstone (like that which overlies coal) and the
Rovuma in the distance. Didi is the name of a village whose headsman,
Chombokëa, is said to be a doctor; all the headmen pretend or are
really doctors; however one, Fundindomba, came after me for medicine
for himself.

_14th April, 1866._--To-day we succeeded in reaching the Rovuma, where
some very red cliffs appear on the opposite heights, and close by
where it is marked on the map that the _Pioneer_ turned back in 1861.
Here we rested on Sunday 15th.

_16th April, 1866._--Our course now lay westwards, along the side of
that ragged outline of table-land, which we had formerly seen from the
river as flanking both sides. There it appeared a range of hills
shutting in Rovuma, here we had spurs jutting out towards the river,
and valleys retiring from a mile to three miles inland. Sometimes we
wended our way round them, sometimes rose over and descended their
western sides, and then a great deal of wood-cutting was required. The
path is not straight, but from one village to another. We came
perpetually on gardens, and remarked that rice was sown among the
other grain; there must be a good deal of moisture at other times to
admit of this succeeding: at present the crops were suffering for want
of rain. We could purchase plenty of rice for the sepoys, and well it
was so, for the supply which was to last till we arrived at Ngomano
was finished on the 13th. An old doctor, with our food awaiting,
presented me with two large bags of rice and his wife husked it for
us.

_17th April, 1866._--I had to leave the camels in the hands of the
sepoys: I ordered them to bring as little luggage as possible, and the
Havildar assured me that two buffaloes were amply sufficient to carry
all they would bring. I now find that they have more than full loads
for two buffaloes, two mules, and two donkeys; but when these animals
fall down under them, they assure me with so much positiveness that
they are not overloaded, that I have to be silent, or only, as I have
several times done before, express the opinion that they will kill
these animals. This observation on my part leads them to hide their
things in the packs of the camels, which also are over-burdened. I
fear that my experiment with the tsetse will be vitiated, but no
symptoms yet occur in any of the camels except weariness.[6] The sun
is very sharp; it scorches. Nearly all the sepoys had fever, but it is
easily cured; they never required to stop marching, and we cannot make
over four or five miles a day, which movement aids in the cure. In all
cases of fever removal from the spot of attack should be made: after
the fever among the sepoys, the Nassick boys took their turn along
with the Johannees.

_18th April, 1866._--Ben Ali misled us away up to the north in spite
of my protest, when we turned in that direction; he declared that was
the proper path. We had much wood-cutting, and found that our course
that day and next was to enable him to visit and return from one of
his wives--a comely Makondé woman! He brought her to call on me, and I
had to be polite to the lady, though we lost a day by the zigzag. This
is one way by which the Arabs gain influence; a great many very
light-coloured people are strewed among the Makondé, but only one of
these had the Arab hair. On asking Ali whether any attempts had been
made by Arabs to convert those with whom they enter into such intimate
relationships, he replied that the Makondé had no idea of a Deity--no
one could teach them, though Makondé slaves when taken to the coast
and elsewhere were made Mahometans. Since the slave-trade was
introduced this tribe has much diminished in numbers, and one village
makes war upon another and kidnaps, but no religious teaching has been
attempted. The Arabs come down to the native ways, and make no efforts
to raise the natives to theirs; it is better that it is so, for the
coast Arab's manners and morals would be no improvement on the pagan
African!

_19th April, 1866._--We were led up over a hill again, and on to the
level of the plateau (where the evaporation is greater than in the
valley), and tasted water of an agreeable coldness for the first time
this journey. The people, especially the women, are very rude, and the
men very eager to be employed as woodcutters. Very merry they are at
it, and every now and then one raises a cheerful shout, in which all
join. I suppose they are urged on by a desire to please their wives
with a little clothing. The higher up the Rovuma we ascend the people
are more and more tattooed on the face, and on all parts of the body.
The teeth are filed to points, and huge lip-rings are worn by the
women; some few Mabeha men from the south side of the river have
lip-rings too.

_20th April, 1866._--A Johanna man allowed the camels to trespass and
destroy a man's tobacco patch: the owner would not allow us after this
to pass through his rice-field, in which the route lay. I examined the
damage, and made the Johanna man pay a yard of calico for it, which
set matters all right.

Tsetse are biting the buffaloes again. Elephants, hippopotami, and
pigs are the only game here, but we see none: the tsetse feed on
them. In the low meadow land, from one to three miles broad, which
lies along both banks, we have brackish pools, and one, a large one,
which we passed, called Wrongwé, had much fish, and salt is got from
it.

_21st April, 1866._--After a great deal of cutting we reached the
valley of Mehambwé to spend Sunday, all glad that it had come round
again. Here some men came to our camp from Ndondé, who report that an
invasion of Mazitu had three months ago swept away all the food out of
the country, and they are now obliged to send in every direction for
provisions. When saluting, they catch each other's hands and say, "Ai!
Ai!" but the general mode (introduced, probably by the Arabs) is to
take hold of the right hand, and say, "Marhaba" (welcome).

A wall-eyed ill-looking fellow, who helped to urge on the attack on
our first visit in 1861, and the man to whom I gave cloth to prevent a
collision, came about us disguised in a jacket. I knew him well, but
said nothing to him.[7]

_23rd April, 1866._--When we marched this morning we passed the spot
where an animal had been burned in the fire, and on enquiry I found
that it is the custom when a leopard is killed to take off the skin
and consume the carcase thus, because the Makondé do not eat it. The
reason they gave for not eating flesh which is freely eaten by other
tribes, is that the leopard devours men; this shows the opposite of an
inclination to cannibalism.

All the rocks we had seen showed that the plateau consists of grey
sandstone, capped by a ferruginous sandy conglomerate. We now came to
blocks of silicified wood lying on the surface; it is so like recent
wood, that no one who has not handled it would conceive it to be
stone and not wood: the outer surface preserves the grain or woody
fibre, the inner is generally silica.

Buffaloes bitten by tsetse again show no bad effects from it: one mule
is, however, dull and out of health; I thought that this might be the
effect of the bite till I found that his back was so strained that he
could not stoop to drink, and could only eat the tops of the grasses.
An ox would have been ill in two days after the biting on the 7th.

A carrier stole a shirt, and went off unsuspected; when the loss was
ascertained, the man's companions tracked him with Ben Ali by night,
got him in his hut, and then collected the headmen of the village, who
fined him about four times the value of what had been stolen. They
came back in the morning without seeming to think that they had done
aught to be commended; this was the only case of theft we had noticed,
and the treatment showed a natural sense of justice.

_24th April, 1866._--We had showers occasionally, but at night all the
men were under cover of screens. The fevers were speedily cured; no
day was lost by sickness, but we could not march more than a few
miles, owing to the slowness of the sepoys; they are a heavy drag on
us, and of no possible use, except when acting as sentries at night.

When in the way between Kendany and Rovuma, I observed a plant here,
called _Mandaré_, the root of which is in taste and appearance like a
waxy potato; I saw it once before at the falls below the Barotsé
Valley, in the middle of the continent; it had been brought there by
an emigrant, who led out the water for irrigation, and it still
maintained its place in the soil. Would this not prove valuable in the
soil of India? I find that it is not cultivated further up the country
of the Makondé, but I shall get Ali to secure some for Bombay.

_25th April, 1866._--A serpent bit Jack, our dog, above the eye, the
upper eyelid swelled very much, but no other symptoms appeared, and
next day all swelling was gone; the serpent was either harmless, or
the quantity of poison injected very small. The pace of the camels is
distressingly slow, and it suits the sepoys to make it still slower
than natural by sitting down to smoke and eat. The grass is high and
ground under it damp and steamy.

_26th April, 1866._--On the 25th we reached Narri, and resolved to
wait the next day and buy food, as it is not so plentiful in front;
the people are eager traders in meal, fowls, eggs, and honey; the
women are very rude. Yesterday I caught a sepoy, Pando, belabouring a
camel with a big stick as thick as any part of his arm, the path being
narrow, it could not get out of his way; I shouted to him to desist;
he did not know I was in sight, to-day the effect of the bad usage is
seen in the animal being quite unable to move its leg: inflammation
has set up in the hip-joint. I am afraid that several bruises which
have festered on the camels, and were to me unaccountable, have been
wilfully bestowed. This same Pando and another left Zanzibar drunk: he
then stole a pair of socks from me, and has otherwise been perfectly
useless, even a pimple on his leg was an excuse for doing nothing for
many days. We had to leave this camel at Narri under charge of the
headman.

_28th April, 1866._--The hills on the north now retire out of our
sight. A gap in the southern plateau gives passage to a small river,
which arises in a lakelet of some size, eight or ten miles inland: the
river and lakelet are both called Nangadi; the latter is so broad that
men cannot be distinguished, even by the keen eyes of the natives on
the other side: it is very deep, and abounds in large fish; the people
who live there are Mabiha. A few miles above this gap the southern
highland falls away, and there are lakelets on marshes, also
abounding in fish, an uninhabited space next succeeds, and then we
have the Matambwé country, which extends up to Ngomano. The Matambwé
seem to be a branch of the Makondé, and a very large one: their
country extends a long way south, and is well stocked with elephants
and gum-copal trees.

They speak a language slightly different from that of the Makondé, but
they understand them. The Matambwé women are, according to Ali, very
dark, but very comely, though they do wear the lip-ring. They carry
their ivory, gum-copal, and slaves to Ibo or Wibo.

_29th April, 1866._--We spend Sunday, the 29th, on the banks of the
Rovuma, at a village called Nachuchu, nearly opposite Konayumba, the
first of the Matambwé, whose chief is called Kimbembé. Ali draws a
very dark picture of the Makondé. He says they know nothing of a
Deity, they pray to their mothers when in distress or dying; know
nothing of a future state, nor have they any religion except a belief
in medicine; and every headsman is a doctor. No Arab has ever tried to
convert them, but occasionally a slave taken to the coast has been
circumcised in order to be clean; some of them pray, and say they know
not the ordeal or muavi. The Nassick boys failed me when I tried to
communicate some knowledge through them. They say they do not
understand the Makondé language, though some told me that they came
from Ndondé's, which is the head-quarters of the Makondé. Ali says
that the Makondé blame witches for disease and death; when one of a
village dies, the whole population departs, saying "that is a bad
spot." They are said to have been notorious for fines, but an awe has
come over them, and no complaints have been made, though our animals
in passing the gardens have broken a good deal of corn. Ali says they
fear the English. This is an answer to my prayer for influence on the
minds of the heathen. I regret that I cannot speak to them that good
of His name which I ought.

I went with the Makondé to see a specimen of the gum-copal tree in the
vicinity of this village. The leaves are in pairs, glossy green, with
the veins a little raised on both face and back; the smaller branches
diverge from the same point: the fruit, of which we saw the shells,
seems to be a nut; some animal had in eating them cut them through.
The bark of the tree is of a light ash colour; the gum was oozing from
the bark at wounded places, and it drops on the ground from branches;
it is thus that insects are probably imbedded in the gum-copal. The
people dig in the vicinity of modern trees in the belief that the more
ancient trees which dropped their gum before it became an article of
commerce must have stood there. "In digging, none may be found on one
day but God (Mungu) may give it to us on the next." To this all the
Makondé present assented, and showed me the consciousness of His
existence was present in their minds. The Makondé get the gum in large
quantities, and this attracts the coast Arabs, who remain a long time
in the country purchasing it. Hernia humoralis abounds; it is ascribed
to beer-drinking.

_30th April, 1866._--Many ulcers burst forth on the camels; some seem
old dhow bruises. They come back from pasture, bleeding in a way that
no rubbing against a tree would account for. I am sorry to suspect
foul play: the buffaloes and mules are badly used, but I cannot be
always near to prevent it.

Bhang[8] is not smoked, but tobacco is: the people have no sheep or
goats; only fowls, pigeons, and Muscovy ducks are seen. Honey is very
cheap; a good large pot of about a gallon, with four fowls, was given
for two yards of calico. Buffaloes again bitten by tsetse, and by
another fly exactly like the house-fly, but having a straight hard
proboscis instead of a soft one; other large flies make the blood run.
The tsetse does not disturb the buffaloes, but these others and the
smaller flies do. The tsetse seem to like the camel best; from these
they are gorged with blood--they do not seem to care for the mules and
donkeys.

[Illustration: Carved Door, Zanzibar.]

FOOTNOTES:

[3] Dhow is the name given to the coasting vessel of East Africa and
the Indian Ocean.

[4] The Commander of H.M.S. _Pioneer_ in 1861.

[5] Those who have read the accounts given by African travellers will
remember that the bites inflicted by two or three of these small flies
will visually lay the foundation of a sickness which destroys oxen,
horses, and dogs in a few weeks.

[6] Dr. Livingstone was anxious to try camels and Indian buffaloes in
a tsetse country to see the effect upon them.

[7] This refers to an attack made upon the boats of the _Pioneer_ when
the Doctor was exploring the River Rovuma in 1861.

[8] A species of hemp.




CHAPTER II.

    Effect of _Pioneer's_ former visit. The poodle Chitané. Result
    of tsetse bites. Death of camels and buffaloes. Disaffection of
    followers. Disputed right of ferry. Mazitu raids. An old friend.
    Severe privations. The River Loendi. Sepoys mutiny. Dr. Roscher.
    Desolation. Tattooing. Ornamental teeth. Singular custom. Death
    of the Nassick boy, Richard. A sad reminiscence.


_1st May, 1866._--We now came along through a country comparatively
free of wood, and we could move on without perpetual cutting and
clearing. It is beautiful to get a good glimpse out on the surrounding
scenery, though it still seems nearly all covered with great masses of
umbrageous foliage, mostly of a dark green colour, for nearly all of
the individual trees possess dark glossy leaves like laurel. We passed
a gigantic specimen of the Kumbé, or gum-copal tree. Kumba means to
dig. Changkumbé, or things dug, is the name of the gum; the Arabs call
it "sandarusé." Did the people give the name Kumbé to the tree after
the value of the gum became known to them? The Malolé, from the fine
grained wood of which all the bows are made, had shed its fruit on the
ground; it looks inviting to the eye--an oblong peach-looking thing,
with a number of seeds inside, but it is eaten by maggots only.

When we came to Ntandé's village, we found it enclosed in a strong
stockade, from a fear of attack by Mabiha, who come across the river
and steal their women when going to draw water: this is for the Ibo
market. They offered to pull down their stockade and let us in if we
would remain over-night, but we declined. Before reaching Ntandé we
passed the ruins of two villages; the owners were the attacking party
when we ascended the Rovuma in 1862. I have still the old sail, with
four bullet-holes through it, made by the shots which they fired after
we had given cloth and got assurances of friendship. The father and
son of this village were the two men seen by the second boat preparing
to shoot; the fire of her crew struck the father on the chin and the
son on the head. 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: never was a murderous assault more
unjustly made or less provoked. They had left their villages and gone
up over the highlands away from the river to their ambush whilst their
women came to look at us.

_2nd May, 1866._--Mountains again approach us, and we pass one which
was noticed in our first ascent from its resemblance to a table
mountain. It is 600 or 800 feet high, and called Liparu: the plateau
now becomes mountainous, giving forth a perennial stream which comes
down from its western base and forms a lagoon on the meadow-land that
flanks the Rovuma. The trees which love these perpetual streams spread
their roots all over the surface of the boggy banks, and make a firm
surface, but at spots one may sink a yard deep. We had to fill up
these deep ditches with branches and leaves, unload the animals, and
lead them across. We spent the night on the banks of the Liparu,[9]
and then proceeded on our way.

_3rd May, 1866._--We rested in a Makoa village, the head of which was
an old woman. The Makoa or Makoané are known by a half-moon figure
tattooed on their foreheads or elsewhere. Our poodle dog Chitané
chased the dogs of this village with unrelenting fury, his fierce
looks inspired terror among the wretched pariah dogs of a yellow and
white colour, and those looks were entirely owing to its being
difficult to distinguish at which end his head or tail lay. He enjoyed
the chase of the yelping curs immensely, but if one of them had turned
he would have bolted the other way.

A motherly-looking woman came forward and offered me some meal; this
was when we were in the act of departing: others had given food to the
men and no return had been made. I told her to send it on by her
husband, and I would purchase it, but it would have been better to
have accepted it: some give merely out of kindly feeling and with no
prospect of a return.

Many of the Makoa men have their faces thickly tattooed in double,
raised lines of about half an inch in length. After the incisions are
made charcoal is rubbed in and the flesh pressed out, so that all the
cuts are raised above the level of the surface. It gives them rather a
hideous look, and a good deal of that fierceness which our kings and
chiefs of old put on whilst having their portraits taken.

_4th May, 1866._--The stream, embowered in perpetual shade and
overspread with the roots of water-loving, broad-leaved trees, we
found to be called Nkonya. The spot of our encampment was an island
formed by a branch of it parting and re-entering it again: the owner
had used it for rice.

The buffaloes were bitten again by tsetse on 2nd, and also to-day,
from the bites of other flies (which look much more formidable than
tsetse), blood of arterial colour flows down; this symptom I never saw
before, but when we slaughtered an ox which had been tsetse bitten, we
observed that the blood had the arterial hue. The cow has inflammation
of one eye, and a swelling on the right lumbar portion of the pelvis:
the grey buffalo has been sick, but this I attribute to unmerciful
loading; for his back is hurt: the camels do not seem to feel the fly,
though they get weaker from the horrid running sores upon them and
hard work. There are no symptoms of tsetse in mules or donkeys, but
one mule has had his shoulder sprained, and he cannot stoop to eat or
drink.

We saw the last of the flanking range on the north. The country in
front is plain, with a few detached granitic peaks shot up. The Makoa
in large numbers live at the end of the range in a place called
Nyuchi. At Nyamba, a village where we spent the night of the 5th, was
a doctoress and rain-maker, who presented a large basket of soroko,
or, as they call it in India, "mung," and a fowl. She is tall and well
made, with fine limbs and feet, and was profusely tattooed all over;
even her hips and buttocks had their elaborate markings: no shame is
felt in exposing these parts.

A good deal of salt is made by lixiviation of the soil and evaporating
by fire. The head woman had a tame khanga tolé or tufted guinea-fowl,
with bluish instead of white spots.

In passing along westwards after leaving the end of the range, we came
first of all on sandstone hardened by fire; then masses of granite, as
if in that had been contained the igneous agency of partial
metamorphosis; it had also lifted up the sandstone, so as to cause a
dip to the east. Then the syenite or granite seemed as if it had been
melted, for it was all in striae, which striae, as they do elsewhere,
run east and west. With the change in geological structure we get a
different vegetation. Instead of the laurel-leaved trees of various
kinds, we have African ebonies, acacias, and mimosae: the grass is
shorter and more sparse, and we can move along without wood-cutting.
We were now opposite a hill on the south called Simba, a lion, from
its supposed resemblance to that animal. A large Mabiha population
live there, and make raids occasionally over to this side for slaves.

_6th May, 1866._--Tsetse again. The animals look drowsy. The cow's eye
is dimmed; when punctured, the skin emits a stream of scarlet blood.
The people hereabouts seem intelligent and respectful. At service a
man began to talk, but when I said, "Ku soma Mlungu,"--"we wish to
pray to God," he desisted. It would be interesting to know what the
ideas of these men are, and to ascertain what they have gained in
their communings with nature during the ages past. They do not give
the idea of that boisterous wickedness and disregard of life which we
read of in our own dark ages, but I have no one to translate, although
I can understand much of what is said on common topics chiefly from
knowing other dialects.

_7th May, 1866._--A camel died during the night, and the grey buffalo
is in convulsions this morning. The cruelty of these sepoys vitiates
my experiment, and I quite expect many camels, one buffalo, and one
mule to die yet; they sit down and smoke and eat, leaving the animals
loaded in the sun. If I am not with them, it is a constant dawdling;
they are evidently unwilling to exert themselves, they cannot carry
their belts and bags, and their powers of eating and vomiting are
astounding. The Makondé villages are remarkably clean, but no sooner
do we pass a night in one than the fellows make it filthy. The climate
does give a sharp appetite, but these sepoys indulge it till relieved
by vomiting and purging. First of all they breakfast, then an hour
afterwards they are sitting eating the pocketfuls of corn maize they
have stolen and brought for the purpose, whilst I have to go ahead,
otherwise we may be misled into a zigzag course to see Ali's friends;
and if I remain behind to keep the sepoys on the move, it deprives me
of all the pleasure of travelling. We have not averaged four miles a
day in a straight line, yet the animals have often been kept in the
sun for eight hours at a stretch. When we get up at 4 A.M. we cannot
get under weigh before 8 o'clock. Sepoys are a mistake.

_7th May, 1866._--We are now opposite a mountain called Nabungala,
which resembles from the north-east an elephant lying down. Another
camel, a very good one, died on the way: its shiverings and
convulsions are not at all like what we observed in horses and oxen
killed by tsetse, but such may lie the cause, however. The only
symptom pointing to the tsetse is the arterial-looking blood, but we
never saw it ooze from the skin after the bite of the gad-fly as we do
now.

_8th May, 1866._--We arrived at a village called Jpondé, or Lipondé,
which lies opposite a granitic hill on the other-side of the river
(where we spent a night on our boat trip), called Nakapuri; this is
rather odd, for the words are not Makondé but Sichuana, and signify
goat's horn, from the projections jutting out from the rest of the
mass. I left the havildar, sepoys, and Nassick boys here in order to
make a forced march forward, where no food is to be had, and send
either to the south or westwards for supplies, so that after they have
rested the animals and themselves five days they may come. One mule is
very ill; one buffalo drowsy and exhausted; one camel a mere skeleton
from bad sores; and another has an enormous hole at the point of the
pelvis, which sticks out at the side. I suspect that this was made
maliciously, for he came from the field bleeding profusely; no tree
would have perforated a round hole in this way. I take all the goods
and leave only the sepoys' luggage, which is enough for all the
animals now.

_9th May, 1866._--I went on with the Johanna men and twenty-four
carriers, for it was a pleasure to get away from the sepoys and
Nassick boys; the two combined to overload the animals. I told them
repeatedly that they would kill them, but no sooner had I adjusted the
burdens and turned my back than they put on all their things. It was
however such continual vexation to contend with the sneaking spirit,
that I gave up annoying myself by seeing matters, though I felt
certain that the animals would all be killed. We did at least eight
miles pleasantly well, and slept at Moedaa village. The rocks are
still syenite. We passed a valley with the large thorny acacias of
which canoes are often made, and a euphorbiaceous tree, with
seed-vessels as large as mandarin oranges, with three seeds inside. We
were now in a country which, in addition to the Mazitu invasion, was
suffering from one of those inexplicable droughts to which limited and
sometimes large portions of this country are subject. It had not been
nearly so severe on the opposite or south side, and thither too the
Mazitu had not penetrated. Rushes, which plagued us nearer the coast,
are not observed now; the grass is all crisp and yellow; many of the
plants are dead, and leaves are fallen off the trees as if winter had
begun. The ground is covered with open forest, with here and there
thick jungle on the banks of the streams. All the rivulets we have
passed are mere mountain torrents filled with sand, in which the
people dig for water.

We passed the spot where an Arab called Birkal was asked payment for
leave to pass. After two and a half days' parley he fought, killed two
Makondé, and mortally wounded a headman, which settled the matter; no
fresh demand has been made. Ali's brother also resisted the same sort
of demand, fought several times, or until three Makondé and two of his
people were killed; they then made peace, and no other exactions have
been made.

_11th May, 1866._--We now found a difficulty in getting our carriers
along, on account of exhaustion from want of food. In going up a sand
stream called Nyédé, we saw that all moist spots had been planted with
maize and beans, so the loss caused by the Mazitu, who swept the land
like a cloud of locusts, will not be attended by much actual
starvation. We met a runaway woman: she was seized by Ali, and it was
plain that he expected a reward for his pains. He thought she was a
slave, but a quarter of a mile off was the village she had left, and
it being doubtful if she were a runaway at all, the would-be fugitive
slave-capture turned out a failure.

_12th May, 1866._--About 4' E.N.E. of Matawatawa, or Nyamatololé, our
former turning point.

_13th May, 1866._--We halted at a village at Matawatawa. A
pleasant-looking lady, with her face profusely tattooed, came forward
with a bunch of sweet reed, or _Sorghum saceliaratum_, and laid it at
my feet, saying, "I met you here before," pointing to the spot on the
river where we turned. I remember her coming then, and that I asked
the boat to wait while she went to bring us a basket of food, and I
think it was given to Chiko, and no return made. It is sheer
kindliness that prompts them sometimes, though occasionally people do
make presents with a view of getting a larger one in return: it is
pleasant to find that it is not always so. She had a quiet, dignified
manner, both in talking and walking, and I now gave her a small
looking-glass, and she went and brought me her only fowl and a basket
of cucumber-seeds, from which oil is made; from the amount of oily
matter they contain thov are nutritious when roasted and eaten as
nuts. She made an apology, saying they were hungry times at present. I
gave her a cloth, and so parted with Kanañgoné, or, as her name may be
spelled, Kanañoné. The carriers were very useless from hunger, and we
could not buy anything for them; for the country is all dried up, and
covered sparsely with mimosas and thorny acacias.

_14th May, 1866._--I could not get the carriers on more than an hour
and three-quarters: men tire very soon on empty stomachs. We had
reached the village of Hassané, opposite to a conical hill named
Chisulwé, which is on the south side of the river, and evidently of
igneous origin. It is tree-covered, while the granite always shows
lumps of naked rock. All about lie great patches of beautiful
dolomite. It may have been formed by baking of the tufa, which in this
country seems always to have been poured out with water after volcanic
action. Hassané's daughter was just lifting a pot of French beans,
boiled in their pods, off the fire when we entered the village, these
he presented to me, and when I invited him to partake, he replied that
he was at home and would get something, while I was a stranger on a
journey. He, like all the other headmen, is a reputed doctor, and his
wife, a stout old lady, a doctoress; he had never married any wife but
this one, and he had four children, all of whom lived with their
parents. We employed one of his sons to go to the south side and
purchase food, sending at the same time some carriers to buy for
themselves. The siroko and rice bought by Hassané's son we deposited
with him for the party behind, when they should arrive. The amount of
terror the Mazitu inspire cannot be realized by us. They shake their
shields and the people fly like stricken deer. I observed that a child
would not go a few yards for necessary purposes unless grandmother
stood in sight. Matumora, as the Arabs call the chief at Ngomano, gave
them a warm reception, and killed several of them: this probably
induced them to retire.

_15th and 16th May, 1866._--Miserably short marches from hunger, and I
sympathise with the poor fellows. Those sent to buy food for
themselves on the south bank were misled by a talkative fellow named
Chikungu, and went off north, where we knew nothing could be had. His
object was to get paid for three days, while they only loitered here.
I suppose hunger has taken the spirit out of them; but I told them
that a day in which no work was done did not count: they admitted
this. We pay about two feet of calico per day, and a fathom or six
feet for three days' carriage.

_17th May, 1866._--With very empty stomachs they came on a few miles
and proposed to cross to the south side; as this involved crossing the
Luendi too, I at first objected, but in hopes that we might get food
for them we consented, and were taken over in two very small canoes. I
sent Ali and Musa meanwhile to the south to try and get some food. I
got a little green sorghum for them and paid them off. These are the
little troubles of travelling, and scarce worth mentioning. A granitic
peak now appears about 15' off, to the W.S.W. It is called Chihoka.

_18th May, 1866._--At our crossing place metamorphic rocks of a
chocolate colour stood on edge; and in the country round we have
patches of dolomite, sometimes as white as marble. The country is all
dry: grass and leaves crisp and yellow. Though so arid now, yet the
great abundance of the dried stalks of a water-loving plant, a sort of
herbaceous acacia, with green pea-shaped flowers, proves that at other
times it is damp enough. The marks of people's feet floundering in
slush, but now baked, show that the country can be sloppy.

The headman of the village where we spent the night of 17th is a
martyr to rheumatism. He asked for medicine, and when I gave some he
asked me to give it to him out of my own hand. He presented me with a
basket of siroko and of green sorghum as a fee, of which I was very
glad, for my own party were suffering, and I had to share out the
little portion of flour I had reserved to myself.

_19th May, 1866._--Coming on with what carriers we could find at the
crossing place, we reached the confluence without seeing it; and
Matumora being about two miles up the Loendi, we sent over to him for
aid. He came over this morning early,--a tall, well-made man, with a
somewhat severe expression of countenance, from a number of wrinkles
on his forehead. He took us over the Loendi, which is decidedly the
parent stream of the Rovuma, though that as it comes from the west
still retains the name Loendi from the south-west here, and is from
150 to 200 yards wide, while the Rovuma above Matawatawa is from 200
to 250, full of islands, rocks, and sandbanks. The Loendi has the same
character. We can see the confluence from where we cross about 2' to
the north. Both rivers are rapid, shoal, and sandy; small canoes are
used on them, and the people pride themselves on their skilful
management: in this the women seem in no way inferior to the men.

In looking up the Loendi we see a large granitic peak called Nkanjé,
some 20 miles off, and beyond it the dim outline of distant highlands,
in which seams of coal are exposed. Pieces of the mineral are found in
Loendi's sands.

Matumora has a good character in the country, and many flee to him
from oppression. He was very polite; sitting on the right bank till
all the goods were carried over, then coming in the same canoe wifn me
himself, he opened a fish basket in a weir and gave me the contents,
and subsequently a little green sorghum. He literally has lost all his
corn, for he was obliged to flee with his people to Marumba, a rocky
island in Rovuma, about six miles above Matawatawa. He says that both
Loendi and Rovuma come out of Lake Nyassa; a boat could not ascend,
however, because many waterfalls are in their course: it is strange if
all this is a myth. Matumora asked if the people through whose country
I had come would preserve the peace I wished. He says he has been
assailed on all sides by slave-hunters: he alone has never hunted for
captives: if the people in front should attack me he would come and
fight them: finally he had never seen a European before (Dr. Roscher
travelled as an Arab), nor could I learn where Likumbu at Ngomano
lives; it was with him that Roscher is said to have left his goods.

The Mazitu had women, children, oxen and goats with them. The whole
tribe lives on plundering the other natives by means of the terror
their shields inspire; had they gone further down the Rovuma, no ox
would have survived the tsetse.

_20th May, 1866._--I paid Ali to his entire satisfaction, and
entrusted him with a despatch, "No. 2 Geographical," and then sent off
four men south to buy food. Here we are among Matambwé. Two of
Matumora's men act as guides. We are about 2' south and by west of the
confluence Ngomano. Lat. 11° 26' 23" S.; long. 37° 40' 52" E.

Abraham, one of the Nassick boys, came up and said he had been sent by
the sepoys, who declared they would come no further. It was with the
utmost difficulty they had come so far, or that the havildar had
forced them on, they would not obey him--would not get up in the
mornings to march; lay in the paths, and gave their pouches and
muskets to the natives to carry: they make themselves utterly useless.
The black buffalo is dead; one camel ditto, and one mule left behind
ill. Were I not aware of the existence of the tsetse, I should say
they died from sheer bad treatment and hard work.

I sent a note to be read to the sepoys stating that I had seen their
disobedience, unwillingness, and skulking, and as soon as I received
the havildar's formal evidence, I would send them back. I regretted
parting with the havildar only.

A leopard came a little after dark while the moon was shining, and
took away a little dog from among us; it is said to have taken off a
person a few days ago.

_22nd May, 1866._--The men returned with but little food in return for
much cloth. Matumora is very friendly, but he has nothing to give save
a little green sorghum, and that he brings daily.

A south wind blows strongly every afternoon. The rains ceased about
the middle of May, and the temperature is lowered. A few heavy night
showers closed the rainy season.

_23rd--24th May, 1866._--I took some Lunar observations.

_25th May, 1866._--Matumora is not Ndondé. A chief to the south-west
of this owns that name and belongs to the Matumbwé tribe.

_26th May, 1866._--I sent Musa westwards to buy food, and he returned
on the evening of 27th without success; he found an Arab slave-dealer
waiting in the path, who had bought up all the provisions. About 11
P.M. we saw two men pass our door with two women in a chain; one man
carried fire in front, the one behind, a musket. Matumora admits that
his people sell each other.

_27th May, 1866._--The havildar and Abraham came up. Havildar says
that all I said in my note was true, and when it was read to the
sepoys they bewailed their folly, he adds that if they were all sent
away disgraced, no one would be to blame but themselves. He brought
them to Hassané's, but they were useless, though they begged to be
kept on: I may give them another trial, but at present they are a sad
incumbrance. South-west of this the Manganja begin; but if one went by
them, there is a space beyond in the south-west without people.

The country due west of this is described by all to be so mountainous
and beset by Mazitu, that there is no possibility of passing that way.
I must therefore make my way to the middle of the Lake, cross over,
and then take up my line of 1863.

_2nd June, 1866._--The men sent to the Matambwé south-east of this
returned with a good supply of grain. The sepoys won't come; they say
they cannot,--a mere excuse, v because they tried to prevail on the
Nassick boys to go slowly like them, and wear my patience out. They
killed one camel with the butt ends of their muskets, beating it till
it died. I thought of going down disarming them all, and taking five
or six of the willing ones, but it is more trouble than profit, so I
propose to start westwards on Monday the 4th, or Tuesday the 5th. My
sepoys offered Ali eight rupees to take them to the coast, thus it
has been a regularly organized conspiracy.

From the appearance of the cow-buffalo, I fear the tsetse is its chief
enemy, but there is a place like a bayonet wound on its shoulder, and
many of the wounds or bruises on the camels were so probed that I
suspect the sepoys.

Many things African are possessed of as great vitality in their line
as the African people. The white ant was imported accidentally into
St. Helena from the coast of Guinea, and has committed such ravages in
the town of St. James, that numerous people have been ruined, and the
governor calls out for aid against them. In other so-called new
countries a wave of English weeds follows the tide of English
emigration, and so with insects; the European house-fly chases away
the blue-bottle fly in New Zealand. Settlers have carried the
house-fly in bottles and boxes for their new locations, but what
European insect will follow us and extirpate the tsetse? The Arabs
have given the Makondé bugs, but we have the house-fly wherever we go,
the blue-bottle and another like the house-fly, but with a sharp
proboscis; and several enormous gad-flies. Here there is so much room
for everything. In New Zealand the Norwegian rat is driven off by even
the European mouse; not to mention the Hanoverian rat of Waterton,
which is lord of the land. The Maori say that "as the white man's rat
has driven away the native rat, so the European fly drives away our
own; and as the clover kills our fern, so will the Maori disappear
before the white man himself." The hog placed ashore by Captain Cook
has now overrun one side of the island, and is such a nuisance that a
large farmer of 100,000 acres has given sixpence per head for the
destruction of some 20,000, and without any sensible diminution; this
would be no benefit here, for the wild hogs abound and do much damage,
besides affording food for the tsetse: the brutes follow the ewes with
young, and devour the poor lambs as soon as they make their
appearance.

_3rd June, 1866._--The cow-buffalo fell down foaming at the mouth, and
expired. The meat looks fat and nice, and is relished by the people, a
little glariness seemed to be present on the foreleg, and I sometimes
think that, notwithstanding the dissimilarity of the symptoms observed
in the camels and buffaloes now, and those we saw in oxen and horses,
the evil may be the tsetse, after all, but they have been badly used,
without a doubt. The calf has a cut half an inch deep, the camels have
had large ulcers, and at last a peculiar smell, which portends death.
I feel perplexed, and not at all certain as to the real causes of
death.

I asked Matumora if the Matambwé believed in God, he replied, that he
did not know Him, and I was not to ask the people among whom I was
going if they prayed to Him, because they would imagine that I wished
them to be killed. I told him that we loved to speak about Him, &c. He
said, when they prayed they offered a little meal and then prayed, but
did not know much about Him.

They have all great reverence for the Deity, and the deliberate way in
which they say "We don't know Him" is to prevent speaking
irreverently, as that may injure the country. The name is "Mulungu":
Makochera afterwards said, that "He was not good, because He killed so
many people."

_4th June, 1866._--Left Ngomano. I was obliged to tell the Nassick
boys that they must either work or return, it was absurd to have them
eating up our goods, and not even carrying their own things, and I
would submit to it no more: five of them carry bales, and two the
luggage of the rest. Abraham and Richard are behind. I gave them bales
to carry, and promised them ten rupees per month, to begin on this
date. Abraham has worked hard all along, and his pay may be due from
7th April, the day we started from Kindany.

_5th June, 1866._--We slept at a village called Lamba, on the banks of
the Rovuma, near a brawling torrent of 150 yards, or 200 perhaps, with
many islands and rocks in it. The country is covered with open forest,
with patches of cultivation everywhere, but all dried up at present
and withered, partly from drought and partly from the cold of winter.
We passed a village with good ripe sorghum cut down, and the heads or
ears all laid neatly in a row, this is to get it dried in the sun, and
not shaken out by the wind, by waving to and fro; besides it is also
more easily watched from being plundered by birds. The sorghum
occasionally does not yield seed, and is then the _Sorghum
saccharatum_, for the stalk contains abundance of sugar, and is much
relished by the natives. Now that so much has failed to yield seed,
being indeed just in flower, the stalks are chewed as if sugar-cane,
and the people are fat thereon; but the hungry time is in store when
these stalles are all done. They make the best provision in their
power against famine by planting beans and maize in moist spots. The
common native pumpkin forms a bastard sort in the same way, but that
is considered very inferior.

_6th June, 1866._--Great hills of granite are occasionally in sight
towards the north, but the trees, though scraggy, close in the view.
We left a village, called Mekosi, and goon came to a slaving party by
a sand stream. They said that they had bought two slaves, but they had
run away from them, and asked us to remain with them; more civil than
inviting. We came on to Makochera, the principal headman in this
quarter, and found him a merry laughing mortal, without any good looks
to recommend his genial smile,--low forehead, covered with deep
wrinkles; flat nose, somewhat of the Assyrian shape; a big mouth and
lean body. He complained of the Machinga (a Waiyau tribe north of him
and the Rovuma) stealing his people. Lat. of village, 11° 22' 49" S.
The river being about 2' north, still shows that it makes a trend to
the north after we pass Ngomano. Makochera has been an elephant
hunter. Few acknowledge as a reason for slaving that sowing and
spinning cotton for clothing is painful. I waited some days for the
Nassick boys, who are behind, though we could not buy any food except
at enormous prices and long distances off.

_7th June, 1866._--The havildar and two sepoys came up with Abraham,
but Richard, a Nassick boy, is still behind from weakness. I sent
three off to help him with the only cordials we could muster. The
sepoys sometimes profess inability to come on, but it is unwillingness
to encounter hardship: I must move on whether they come or not, for we
cannot obtain food here. I sent the sepoys some cloth, and on the 8th
proposed to start, but every particle of food had been devoured the
night before, so we despatched two parties to scour the country round,
and give any price rather than want.

I could not prevail on Makochera to give me a specimen of poetry; he
was afraid, neither he nor his forefathers had ever seen an
Englishman. He thought that God was not good because He killed so many
people. Dr. Roscher must have travelled as an Arab if he came this
way, for he was not known.[10]

_9th June, 1866._--We now left and marched through the same sort of
forest, gradually ascending in altitude as we went west, then we came
to huge masses of granite, or syenite, with flakes peeling off. They
are covered with a plant with grassy-looking leaves and rough stalk
which strips into portions similar to what are put round candles as
ornaments. It makes these hills look light grey, with patches of
black rock at the more perpendicular parts; the same at about ten
miles off look dark blue. The ground is often hard and stony, but all
covered over with grass and plants: looking down at it, the grass is
in tufts, and like that on the Kalahari desert. Trees show uplands.
One tree of which bark cloth is made, pterocarpus, is abundant.
Timber-trees appear here and there, but for the most part the growth
is stunted, and few are higher than thirty feet. We spent the night by
a hill of the usual rounded form, called Njeñgo. The Rovuma comes
close by, but leaves us again to wind among similar great masses. Lat.
11° 20' 05" S.

_10th June, 1866._--A very heavy march through the same kind of
country, no human habitation appearing; we passed a dead
body--recently, it was said, starved to death. The large tract between
Makochera's and our next station at Ngozo hill is without any
perennial stream; water is found often by digging in the sand streams
which we several times crossed; sometimes it was a trickling rill, but
I suspect that at other seasons all is dry, and people are made
dependent on the Rovuma alone. The first evidence of our being near
the pleasant haunts of man was a nice little woman drawing water at a
well. I had become separated from the rest: on giving me water she
knelt down, and, as country manners require, held it up to me with
_both_ hands. I had been misled by one of the carriers, who got
confused, though the rounded mass of Ngozo was plainly visible from
the heights we crossed east of it.

An Arab party bolted on hearing of our approach: they don't trust the
English, and this conduct increases our importance among the natives.
Lat. 11° 18' 10" S.

_11th June, 1866._--Our carriers refuse to go further, because they
say that they fear being captured here on their return.

_12th June, 1866._--I paid off the carriers, and wait for a set from
this. A respectable man, called Makoloya, or Impandé, visited me, and
wished to ask some questions as to where I was going, and how long I
should be away. He had heard from a man who came from Ibo, or Wibo,
about the Bible, a large book which was consulted.

[Illustration: Tattoo of Matambwé.]

_13th June, 1866._--Makoloya brought his wife and a little corn, and
says that his father told him that there is a God, but nothing more.
The marks on their foreheads and bodies are meant only to give beauty
in the dance, they seem a sort of heraldic ornament, for they can at
once tell by his tattoo to what tribe or portion of tribe a man
belongs. The tattoo or tembo of the Matambwé and Upper Makondé very
much resembles the drawings of the old Egyptians; wavy lines, such as
the ancients made to signify water, trees and gardens enclosed in
squares, seem to have been meant of old for the inhabitants who lived
on the Rovuma, and cultivated also, the son takes the tattoo of his
father, and thus it has been perpetuated, though the meaning now
appears lost. The Makoa have the half or nearly full moon, but it is,
they say, all for ornament. Some blue stuff is rubbed into the cuts (I
am told it is charcoal), and the ornament shows brightly in persons
of light complexion, who by the bye are common. The Makondé and
Matambwé file their front teeth to points; the Machinga, a Waiyan
tribe, leave two points on the sides of the front teeth, and knock out
one of the middle incisors above and below.

[Illustration: Machinga and Waiyan Teeth.]

_14th June, 1866._--I am now as much dependent on carriers as if I had
never bought a beast of burden--but this is poor stuff to fill a
journal with. We started off to Metaba to see if the chief there would
lend some men. The headman, Kitwanga, went a long way to convoy us;
then turned, saying he was going to get men for Musa next day. We
passed near the base of the rounded masses Ngozo and Mekanga, and
think, from a near inspection, that they are over 2000 feet above the
plain, possibly 3000 feet, and nearly bare, with only the peculiar
grassy plant on some parts which are not too perpendicular. The people
are said to have stores of grain on them, and on one the chief said
there is water; he knows of no stone buildings of the olden time in
the country. We passed many masses of ferruginous conglomerate, and I
noticed that most of the gneiss dips westwards. The striae seem as if
the rock had been partially molten: at times the strike is north and
south, at others east and west; when we come to what may have been its
surface, it is as if the striae had been stirred with a rod while
soft.

We slept at a point of the Rovuma, above a cataract where a reach of
comparatively still water, from 150 to 200 yards wide, allows a school
of hippopotami to live: when the river becomes fordable in many
places, as it is said to do in August and September, they must find it
difficult to exist.

_15th June, 1866._--Another three hours' march brought us from the
sleeping-place on the Rovuma to Metaba, the chief of which, Kinazombé,
is an elderly man, with a cunning and severe cast of countenance, and
a nose Assyrian in type; he has built a large reception house, in
which a number of half-caste Arabs have taken up their abode. A great
many of the people have guns, and it is astonishing to see the number
of slave-taming sticks abandoned along the road as the poor wretches
gave in, and professed to have lost all hope of escape. Many huts have
been built by the Arabs to screen themselves from the rain as they
travelled. At Kinazombé's the second crop of maize is ready, so the
hunger will not be very much felt.

_16th June, 1866._--We heard very sombre accounts of the country in
front:--four or five days to Mtarika, and then ten days through jungle
to Mataka's town: little food at Mtarika's, but plenty with Mataka,
who is near the Lake. The Rovuma trends southerly after we leave
Ngozo, and Masusa on that river is pointed out as south-west from
Metaba, so at Ngozo the river may be said to have its furthest
northing. Masusa is reported to be five days, or at least fifty miles,
from Metaba. The route now becomes south-west.

The cattle of Africa are like the Indian buffalo, only partially
tamed; they never give their milk without the presence of the calf or
its stuffed skin, the "fulchan." The women adjacent to Mozambique
partake a little of the wild animal's nature, for, like most members
of the inferior races of animals, they refuse all intercourse with
their husbands when enceinte and they continue this for about three
years afterwards, or until the child is weaned, which usually happens
about the third year. I was told, on most respectable authority, that
many fine young native men marry one wife and live happily with her
till this period; nothing will then induce her to continue to cohabit
with him, and, as the separation is to continue for three years, the
man is almost compelled to take up with another wife: this was
mentioned to me as one of the great evils of society. The same
absurdity prevails on the West Coast, and there it is said that the
men acquiesce from ideas of purity.

It is curious that trade-rum should form so important an article of
import on the West Coast while it is almost unknown on the East Coast,
for the same people began the commerce in both instances. If we look
north of Cape Delgado, we might imagine that the religious convictions
of the Arabs had something to do with the matter, but the Portuguese
south of Cape Delgado have no scruples in the matter, and would sell
their grandfathers as well as the rum if they could make money by the
transaction, they have even erected distilleries to furnish a vile
spirit from the fruit of the cashew and other fruits and grain, but
the trade does not succeed. They give their slaves also rewards of
spirit, or "maata bicho" ("kill the creature," or "craving within"),
and you may meet a man who, having had much intercourse with
Portuguese, may beg spirits, but the trade does not pay. The natives
will drink it if furnished gratis. The indispensable "dash" of rum on
the West Coast in every political transaction with independent chiefs
is, however, quite unknown. The Moslems would certainly not abstain
from trading in spirits were the trade profitable. They often asked
for brandy from me in a sly way--as medicine; and when reminded that
their religion forbade it, would say, "Oh, but we can drink it in
secret."

It is something in the nature of the people quite inexplicable, that
throughout the Makondé country hernia humoralis prevails to a
frightful extent; it is believed by the natives to be the result of
beer drinking, so they cannot be considered as abstemious.

_18th June, 1866._--Finding that Musa did not come up with the goods I
left in his charge, and fearing that all was not right, we set off
with all our hands who could carry, after service yesterday morning,
and in six hours' hard tramp arrived here just in time, for a tribe of
Wanindi, or Manindi, who are either Ajawas (Waiyau),[11] or pretended
Mazitu, had tried to cross the Rovuma from the north bank. They came
as plunderers, and Musa having received no assistance was now ready to
defend the goods. A shot or two from the people of Kitwanga made the
Wanindi desert after they had entered the water.

Six sepoys and Simon had come up this length; Reuben and Mabruki
reported Richard to be dead. This poor boy was left with the others at
Lipondé, and I never saw him again. I observed him associating too
much with the sepoys; and often felt inclined to reprove him, as their
conversation is usually very bad, but I could not of my own knowledge
say so. He came on with the others as far as Hassané or Pachassané:
there he was too weak to come further, and as the sepoys were
notoriously skulkers, I feared that poor Richard was led away by them,
for I knew that they had made many attempts to draw away the other
Nassick boys from their duty. When, however, Abraham came up and
reported Richard left behind by the sepoys, I became alarmed, and sent
off three boys with cordials to help him on: two days after Abraham
left he seems to have died, and I feel very sorry that I was not there
to do what I could. I am told now that he never consented to the sepoy
temptation: he said to Abraham that he wished he were dead, he was so
much troubled. The people where he died were not v$ry civil to Simon.

The sepoys had now made themselves such an utter nuisance that I felt
that I must take the upper hand with them, so I called them up this
morning, and asked if they knew the punishment they had incurred by
disobeying orders, and attempting to tamper with the Nassick boys to
turn them back. I told them they not only remained in the way when
ordered to march, but offered eight rupees to Ali to lead them to the
coast, and that the excuse of sickness was nought, for they had eaten
heartily three meals a day while pretending illness. They had no
excuse to offer, so I disrated the naik or corporal, and sentenced the
others to carry loads; if they behave well, then they will get fatigue
pay for doing fatigue duty, if ill, nothing but their pay. Their limbs
are becoming contracted from sheer idleness; while all the other men
are well and getting stronger they alone are disreputably slovenly and
useless-looking. Their filthy habits are to be reformed, and if found
at their habit of sitting down and sleeping for hours on the march, or
without their muskets and pouches, they are to be flogged. I sent two
of them back to bring up two comrades, left behind yesterday. All who
have done work are comparatively strong.

[We may venture a word in passing on the subject of native recruits,
enlisted for service in Africa, and who return thither after a long
absence. All the Nassick boys were native-born Africans, and yet we
see one of them succumb immediately. The truth is that natives; under
these circumstances, are just as liable to the effects of malaria on
landing as Europeans, although it is not often that fever assumes a
dangerous form in such cases. The natives of the interior have the
greatest dread of the illnesses which they say are sure to be in store
for them if they visit the coast.]

_19th June, 1866._--I gave the sepoys light loads in order to inure
them to exercise and strengthen them, and they carried willingly so
long as the fright was on them, but when the fear of immediate
punishment wore off they began their skulking again. One, Perim,
reduced his load of about 20 lbs. of tea by throwing away the lead in
which it was rolled, and afterwards about 15 lbs. of the tea, thereby
diminishing our stock to 5 lbs.

[Dr. Livingstone's short stay in England in 1864-5 was mainly taken up
with compiling an account of his travels on the Zambesi and Shiré:
during this time his mother expired in Scotland at a good old age.
When he went back to Africa he took with him, as part of his very
scanty travelling equipment, a number of letters which he received
from friends at different times in England, and he very often quoted
them when he had an opportunity of sending letters home. We come to an
entry at this time which shows that in these reminiscences he had not
thus preserved an unmixed pleasure. He says:--]

I lighted on a telegram to-day:--"Your mother died at noon on the 18th
June."

This was in 1865: it affected me not a little.

FOOTNOTES:

[9] Further on we found it called Nkonya.

[10] It will be remembered that this German traveller was murdered
near Lake Nyassa. The native chiefs denounced his assassins, and sent
them to Zanzibar, where they were executed.--ED.

[11] Further westward amongst the Manganja or Nyassa people the Waiyan
tribe is called "Ajawa," and we find Livingstone always speaking of
them as Ajawas in his previous explorations on the River Rovuma. (See
'The Zambesi and its Tributaries.')--ED.




CHAPTER III.

    Horrors of the slave-trader's track. System of cultivation.
    Pottery. Special exorcising. Death of the last mule. Rescue of
    Chirikaloma's wife. Brutalities of the slave-drivers. Mtarika's.
    Desperate march to Mtaka's. Meets Arab caravans. Dismay of
    slavers. Dismissal of sepoys. Mataka. The Waiyan metropolis.
    Great hospitality and good feeling. Mataka restores stolen
    cattle. Life with the chief. Beauty of country and healthiness
    of climate. The Waiyan people and their peculiarities. Regrets
    at the abandonment of Bishop Mackenzie's plans.

_19th June, 1866._--We passed a woman tied by the neck to a tree and
dead, the people of the country explained that she had been unable to
keep up with the other slaves in a gang, and her master had determined
that she should not become the property of anyone else if she
recovered after resting for a time. I may mention here that we saw
others tied up in a similar manner, and one lying in the path shot or
stabbed[12], for she was in a pool of blood. The explanation we got
invariably was that the Arab who owned these victims was enraged at
losing his money by the slaves becoming unable to march, and vented
his spleen by murdering them; but I have nothing more than common
report in support of attributing this enormity to the Arabs.

_20th June, 1866._--Having returned to Metaba, we were told by
Kinazombé, the chief, that no one had grain to sell but himself. He
had plenty of powder and common cloth from the Arabs, and our only
chance with him was parting with our finer cloths and other things
that took his fancy. He magnified the scarcity in front in order to
induce us to buy all we could from him, but he gave me an ample meal
of porridge and guinea-fowl before starting.

_21st June, 1866._--We had difficulties about carriers, but on
reaching an island in the Rovuma, called Chimiki, we found the people
were Makoa and more civil and willing to work than the Waiyau: we sent
men back to bring up the havildar to a very civil headman called
Chirikaloma.

_22nd June, 1866._--A poor little boy with prolapsus ani was carried
yesterday by his mother many a weary mile, lying over her right
shoulder--the only position he could find ease in,--an infant at the
breast occupied the left arm, and on her head were carried two
baskets. The mother's love was seen in binding up the part when we
halted, whilst the coarseness of low civilization was evinced in the
laugh with which some black brutes looked at the sufferer.

_23rd June, 1866._--The country is covered with forest, much more open
than further east. We are now some 800 feet above the sea. The people
all cultivate maize near the Rovuma, and on islands where moisture
helps them, nearly all possess guns, and plenty of powder and fine
beads,--red ones strung on the hair, and fine blue ones in rolls on
the neck, fitted tightly like soldiers' stocks. The lip-ring is
universal; teeth filed to points.

_24th June, 1866._--Immense quantities of wood are cut down, collected
in heaps, and burned to manure the land, but this does not prevent the
country having an appearance of forest. Divine service at 8.30 A.M.;
great numbers looking on. They have a clear idea of the Supreme Being,
but do not pray to Him.. Cold south winds prevail; temp. 55°. One of
the mules is very ill--it was left with the havildar when we went back
to Ngozo, and probably remained uncovered at night, for as soon as we
saw it, illness was plainly visible. Whenever an animal has been in
their power the sepoys have abused it. It is difficult to feel
charitably to fellows whose scheme seems to have been to detach the
Nassick boys from me first, then, when the animals were all killed,
the Johanna men, afterwards they could rule me as they liked, or go
back and leave me to perish; but I shall try to feel as charitably as
I can in spite of it all, for the mind has a strong tendency to brood
over the ills of travel. I told the havildar when I came up to him at
Metaba what I had done, and that I was very much displeased with the
sepoys for compassing my failure, if not death; an unkind word had
never passed my lips to them: to this he could bear testimony. He
thought that they would only be a plague and trouble to me, but he
"would go on and die with me."

Stone boiling is unknown in these countries, but ovens are made in
anthills. Holes are dug in the ground for baking the heads of large
game, as the zebra, feet of elephants, humps of rhinoceros, and the
production of fire by drilling between the palms of the hands is
universal. It is quite common to see the sticks so used attached to
the clothing or bundles in travelling; they wet the blunt end of the
upright stick with the tongue, and dip it in the sand to make some
particles of silica adhere before inserting it in the horizontal
piece. The wood of a certain wild fig-tree is esteemed as yielding
fire readily.

In wet weather they prefer to carry fire in the dried balls of
elephants' dung which are met with--the male's being about eight
inches in diameter and about a foot long: they also employ the stalk
of a certain plant which grows on rocky places for the same purpose.

We bought a senzé, or _Aulacaudatus Swindernianus_, which had been
dried over a slow fire. This custom of drying fish, flesh, and fruits,
on stages over slow fires, is practised very generally: the use of
salt for preservation is unknown. Besides stages for drying, the
Makondé use them about six feet high for sleeping on instead of the
damp ground: a fire beneath helps to keep off the mosquitoes, and they
are used by day as convenient resting-places and for observation.

Pottery seems to have been known to the Africans from the remotest
times, for fragments are found everywhere, even among the oldest
fossil bones in the country. Their pots for cooking, holding water and
beer, are made by the women, and the form is preserved by the eye
alone, for no sort of machine is ever used. A foundation or bottom is
first laid, and a piece of bone or bamboo used to scrape the clay or
to smooth over the pieces which are added to increase the roundness;
the vessel is then left a night: the next morning a piece is added to
the rim--as the air is dry several rounds may be added--and all is
then carefully smoothed off; afterwards it is thoroughly sun-dried. A
light fire of dried cow-dung, or corn-stalks, or straw, and grass with
twigs, is made in a hole in the ground for the final baking. Ornaments
are made on these pots of black lead, or before being hardened by the
sun they are ornamented for a couple or three inches near the rim, all
the tracery being in imitation of plaited basket work.

Chirikaloma says that the surname of the Makoa, to whom he belongs, is
Mirazi--others have the surname Melola or Malola--Chimposola. All had
the half-moon mark when in the south-east, but now they leave it off a
good deal and adopt the Waiyau marks, because of living in their
country. They show no indications of being named after beasts and
birds. Mirazi was an ancestor; they eat all clean animals, but refuse
the hyaena, leopard, or any beast that devours dead men.[13]

_25th June, 1866._--On leaving Chirikaloma we came on to Namalo,
whose village that morning had been deserted, the people moving off in
a body towards the Matambwé country, where food is more abundant. A
poor little girl was left in one of the huts from being too weak to
walk, probably an orphan. The Arab slave-traders flee from the path as
soon as they hear of our approach. The Rovuma is from 56 to 80 yards
wide here. No food to be had for either love or money.

Near many of the villages we observe a wand bent and both ends
inserted into the ground: a lot of medicine, usually the bark of
trees, is buried beneath it. When sickness is in a village, the men
proceed to the spot, wash themselves with the medicine and water,
creep through beneath the bough, then bury the medicine and the evil
influence together. This is also used to keep off evil spirits, wild
beasts, and enemies.

Chirikaloma told us of a child in his tribe which was deformed from
his birth. He had an abortive toe where his knee should have been;
some said to his mother, "Kill him;" but she replied, "How can I kill
my son?" He grew up and had many fine sons and daughters, but none
deformed like himself: this was told in connection with an answer to
my question about the treatment of Albinoes: he said they did not kill
them, but they never grew to manhood. On inquiring if he had ever
heard of cannibals, or people with tails, he replied, "Yes, but we
have always understood that these and other monstrosities are met with
only among you sea-going people." The other monstrosities he referred
to were those who are said to have eyes behind the head as well as in
front: I have heard of them before, but then I was near Angola, in the
west.

The rains are expected here when the Pleiades appear in the east soon
after sunset; they go by the same name here as further south--Lemila
or the "hoeings."

In the route along the Rovuma, we pass among people who are so well
supplied with white calico by the slave-trade from Kilwa, that it is
quite a drug in the market: we cannot get food for it. If we held on
westwards we should cross several rivers flowing into the Rovuma from
the southward, as the Zandulo, the Sanjenzé, the Lochiringo, and then,
in going round the north end of Nyassa, we should pass among the
Nindi, who now inhabit the parts vacated by the Mazitu, and imitate
them in having shields and in marauding. An Arab party went into their
country, and got out again only by paying a whole bale of calico; it
would not be wise in me to venture there at present, but if we return
this way we may; meanwhile we shall push on to Mataka, who is only a
few days off from the middle of the Lake, and has abundance of
provisions.

_26th June, 1866._--My last mule died. In coming along in the morning
we were loudly accosted by a well-dressed woman who had just had a
very heavy slave-taming stick put on her neck; she called in such an
authoritative tone to us to witness the flagrant injustice of which
she was the victim that all the men stood still and went to hear the
case. She was a near relative of Chirikaloma, and was going up the
river to her husband, when the old man (at whose house she was now a
prisoner) caught her, took her servant away from her, and kept her in
the degraded state we saw. The withes with which she was bound were
green and sappy. The old man said in justification that she was
running away from Chirikaloma, and he would be offended with him if he
did not secure her.

I asked the officious old gentleman in a friendly tone what he
expected to receive from Chirikaloma, and he said, "Nothing." Several
slaver-looking fellows came about, and I felt sure that the woman had
been seized in order to sell her to them, so I gave the captor a cloth
to pay to Chirikaloma if he were offended, and told him to say that
I, feeling ashamed to see one of his relatives in a slave-stick, had
released her, and would, take her on to her husband.

She is evidently a lady among them, having many fine beads and some
strung on elephant's hair: she has a good deal of spirit too, for on
being liberated she went into the old man's house and took her basket
and calabash. A virago of a wife shut the door and tried to prevent
her, as well as to cut off the beads from her person, but she resisted
like a good one, and my men thrust the door open and let her out, but
minus her slave. The other wife--for old officious had two--joined her
sister in a furious tirade of abuse, the elder holding her sides in
regular fishwife fashion till I burst into a laugh, in which the
younger wife joined. I explained to the different headmen in front of
this village what I had done, and sent messages to Chirikaloma
explanatory of my friendly deed to his relative, so that no
misconstruction should be put on my act.

We passed a slave woman shot or stabbed through the body and lying on
the path: a group of mon stood about a hundred yards off on one side,
and another of women on the other side, looking on; they said an Arab
who passed early that morning had done it in anger at losing the price
he had given for her, because she was unable to walk any longer.

_27th June, 1866._--To-day we came upon a man dead from starvation, as
he was very thin. One of our men wandered and found a number of slaves
with slave-sticks on, abandoned by their master from want of food;
they were too weak to be able to speak or say where they had come
from; some were quite young. We crossed the Tulosi, a stream coming
from south, about twenty yards wide.

At Chenjewala's the people are usually much startled when I explain
that the numbers of slaves we see dead on the road have been killed
partly by those who sold them, for I tell them that if they sell
their fellows, they are like the man who holds the victim while the
Arab performs the murder.

Chenjewala blamed Machemba, a chief above him on the Rovuma, for
encouraging the slave-trade; I told him I had travelled so much among
them that I knew all the excuses they could make, each headman blamed
some one else.

"It would be better if you kept your people and cultivated more
largely," said I, "Oh, Machemba sends his men and robs our gardens
after we have cultivated," was the reply. One man said that the Arabs
who come and tempt them with fine clothes are the cause of their
selling: this was childish, so I told them they would very soon have
none to sell: their country was becoming jungle, and all their people
who did not die in the road would be making gardens for Arabs at Kilwa
and elsewhere.

_28th June, 1866._--When we got about an hour from Chenjewala's we
came to a party in the act of marauding; the owners of the gardens
made off for the other side of the river, and waved to us to go
against the people of Machemba, but we stood on a knoll with all our
goods on the ground, and waited to see how matters would turn out. Two
of the marauders came to us and said they had captured five people. I
suppose they took us for Arabs, as they addressed Musa. They then took
some green maize, and so did some of my people, believing that as all
was going, they who were really starving might as well have a share.

I went on a little way with the two marauders, and by the footprints
thought the whole party might amount to four or five with guns; the
gardens and huts were all deserted. A poor woman was sitting, cooking
green maize, and one of the men ordered her to follow him. I said to
him, "Let her alone, she is dying." "Yes," said he, "of hunger," and
went'on without her.

We passed village after village, and gardens all deserted! We were
now between two contending parties. We slept at one garden; and as we
were told by Chenjewala's people to take what we liked, and my men had
no food, we gleaned what congo beans, bean leaves, and sorghum stalks
we could,--poor fare enough, but all we could get.

_29th June, 1866._--We came onto Machemba's brother, Chimseia, who
gave us food at once. The country is now covered with deeper soil, and
many large acacia-trees grow in the rich loam: the holms too are
large, and many islands afford convenient maize grounds. One of the
Nassiek lads came up and reported his bundle, containing 240 yards of
calico, had been stolen; he went aside, leaving it on the path
(probably fell asleep), and it was gone when he came back. I cannot
impress either on them or the sepoys that it is wrong to sleep on the
march.

Akosakoné, whom we had liberated, now arrived at the residence of her
husband, who was another brother of Machemba. She behaved like a lady
all through, sleeping at a fire apart from the men. The ladies of the
different villages we passed condoled with her, and she related to
them the indignity that had been done to her. Besides this she did us
many services: she bought food for us, because, having a good address,
we saw that she could get double what any of our men could purchase
for the same cloth; she spoke up for us when any injustice was
attempted, and, when we were in want of carriers, volunteered to carry
a bag of beads on her head. On arriving at Machemba's brother,
Chimseia, she introduced me to him, and got him to be liberal to us in
food on account of the service we had rendered to her. She took leave
of us all with many expressions of thankfulness, and we were glad that
we had not mistaken her position or lavished kindness on the
undeserving.

One Johanna man was caught stealing maize, then another, after I had
paid for the first. I sent a request to the chief not to make much of
a grievance about it, as I was very much ashamed at my men stealing;
he replied that he had liked me from the first, and I was not to fear,
as whatever service he could do he would most willingly in order to
save me pain and trouble. A sepoy now came up having given his musket
to a man to carry, who therefore demanded payment. As it had become a
regular nuisance for the sepoys to employ people to carry for them,
telling them that I would pay, I demanded why he had promised in my
name. "Oh, it was but a little way he carried the musket," said he.
Chimseia warned us next morning, 30th June, against allowing any one
to straggle or steal in front, for stabbing and plundering were the
rule. The same sepoy who had employed a man to carry his musket now
came forward, with his eyes fixed and shaking all over. This, I was to
understand, meant extreme weakness; but I had accidentally noticed him
walking quite smartly before this exhibition, so I ordered him to keep
close to the donkey that carried the havildar's luggage, and on no
account to remain behind the party. He told the havildar that he would
sit down only for a little while; and, I suppose, fell asleep, for he
came up to us in the evening as naked as a robin.

I saw another person bound to a tree and dead--a sad sight to see,
whoever was the perpetrator. So many slave-sticks lie along our path,
that I suspect the people here-about make a practice of liberating
what slaves they cian find abandoned on the march, to sell them again.

A large quantity of maize is cultivated at Chimsaka's, at whose place
we this day arrived. We got a supply, but being among thieves, we
thought it advisable to move on to the next place (Mtarika's). When
starting, we found that fork, kettle, pot, and shot-pouch had been
taken. The thieves, I observed, kept up a succession of jokes with
Chuma and Wikatani and when the latter was enjoying them, gaping to
the sky, they were busy putting the things of which he had charge
under their cloths! I spoke to the chief, and he got the three first
articles back for me.

A great deal if not all the lawlessness of this quarter is the result
of the slave-trade, for the Arabs buy whoever is brought to them and
in a country covered with forest as this is, kidnapping can be
prosecuted with the greatest ease; elsewhere the people are honest,
and have a regard for justice.

_1st July, 1866._--As we approach Mtarika's place, the country becomes
more mountainous and the land sloping for a mile down to the south
bank of the Rovuma supports a large population. Some were making new
gardens by cutting down trees and piling the branches for burning;
others had stored tip large quantities of grain and were moving it to
a new locality, but they were all so well supplied with calico
(Merikano) that they would not look at ours: the market was in fact
glutted by slavers from (Quiloa) Kilwa. On asking why people were seen
tied to trees to die as we had seen them, they gave the usual answer
that the Arabs tie them thus and leave them to perish, because they
are vexed, when the slaves can walk no further, that they have lost
their money by them. The path is almost strewed with slave-sticks, and
though the people denied it, I suspect that they make a practice of
following slave caravans and cutting off the sticks from those who
fall out in the march, and thus stealing them. By selling them again
they get the quantities of cloth we see. Some asked for gaudy prints,
of which we had none, because we knew that the general taste of the
Africans of the Interior is for strength rather than show in what they
buy.

The Rovuma here is about 100 yards broad, and still keeps up its
character of a rapid stream, with sandy banks and islands: the latter
are generally occupied, as being defensible when the river is in
flood.

_2nd July, 1866._--We rested at Mtarika's old place; and though we had
to pay dearly with our best table-cloths[14] for it, we got as much as
made one meal a day. At the same dear rate we could give occasionally
only two ears of maize to each man; and if the sepoys got their
comrades' corn into their hands, they eat it without shame. We had to
bear a vast amount of staring, for the people, who are Waiyau, have a
great deal of curiosity, and are occasionally rather rude. They have
all heard of our wish to stop the slave-trade, and are rather taken
aback when told that by selling they are part and part guilty of the
mortality of which we had been unwilling spectators. Some were
dumbfounded when shown that in the eye of their Maker they are parties
to the destruction of human life which accompanies this traffic both
by sea and land. If they did not sell, the Arabs would not come to
buy. Chuma and Wakatani render what is said very eloquently in Chiyau,
most of the people being of their tribe, with only a sprinkling of
slaves. Chimseia, Chimsaka, Mtarika, Mtendé, Makanjela, Mataka, and
all the chiefs and people in our route to the Lake, are Waiyau, or
Waiau.[15]

On the southern slope down to the river there are many oozing springs
and damp spots where rice has been sown and reaped. The adjacent land
has yielded large crops of sorghum, congo-beans, and pumpkins.
Successive crowds of people came to gaze. My appearance and acts often
cause a burst of laughter; sudden standing up produces a flight of
women and children. To prevent peeping into the hut which I occupy,
and making the place quite dark, I do my writing in the verandah.
Chitané, the poodle dog, the buffalo-calf, and our only remaining
donkey are greeted with the same amount of curiosity and
laughter-exciting comment as myself.

Every evening a series of loud musket reports is heard from the
different villages along the river; these are imitation evening guns.
All copy the Arabs in dress and chewing tobacco with "nora" lime, made
from burnt river shells instead of betel-nut and lime. The women are
stout, well-built persons, with thick arms and legs; their heads
incline to the bullet shape; the lip-rings are small; the tattoo a
mixture of Makoa and Waiyau. Fine blue and black beads are in fashion,
and so are arm-coils of thick brass wire. Very nicely inlaid combs are
worn in the hair; the inlaying is accomplished by means of a gum got
from the root of an orchis called _Nangazu_.

_3rd July, 1866._--A short march brought us to Mtarika's new place.
The chief made his appearance only after he had ascertained all he
could about us. The population is immense; they are making new
gardens, and the land is laid out by straight lines about a foot
broad, cut with the hoe; one goes miles without getting beyond the
marked or surveyed fields.

Mtarika came at last; a big ugly man, with large mouth and receding
forehead. He asked to see all our curiosities, as the watch, revolver,
breech-loading rifle, sextant. I gave him a lecture on the evil of
selling his people, and he wished me to tell all the other chiefs the
same thing.

They dislike the idea of guilt being attached to them for having sold
many who have lost their lives on their way down to the sea-coast. We
had a long visit from Mtarika next day; he gave us meal, and meat of
wild hog, with a salad made of bean-leaves. A wretched Swaheli Arab,
ill with rheumatism, came for aid, and got a cloth. They all profess
to me to be buying ivory only.

_5th July, 1866._--We left for Mtendé, who is the last chief before
we enter on a good eight days' march to Mataka's; we might have gone
to Kandulo's, who is near the Rovuma, and more to the north, but all
are so well supplied with everything by slave-traders that we have
difficulty in getting provisions at all. Mataka has plenty of all
kinds of food. On the way we passed the burnt bones of a person Avho
was accused of having eaten human flesh; he had been poisoned, or, as
they said, killed by poison (muave?), and then burned. His clothes
were hung, up on trees by the wayside as a warning to others. The
country was covered with scraggy forest, but so undulating that one
could often see all around from the crest of the waves. Great mountain
masses appear in the south and south-west. It feels cold, and the sky
is often overcast.

_6th July, 1866._--I took lunars yesterday, after which Mtendé invited
us to eat at his house where he had provided a large mess of rice
porridge and bean-leaves as a relish. He says that many Arabs pass him
and many of them die in their journeys. He knows no deaf or dumb
person in the country. He says that he cuts the throats of all animals
to be eaten, and does not touch lion or hyaena.

_7th July, 1866._--We got men from Mtendé to carry loads and show the
way. He asked a cloth to ensure his people going to the journey's end
and behaving properly; this is the only case of anything like tribute
being demanded in this journey: I gave him a cloth worth 5s. 6d.
Upland vegetation prevails; trees are dotted here and there among
bushes five feet high, and fine blue and yellow flowers are common. We
pass over a succession of ridges and valleys as in Londa; each valley
has a running stream or trickling rill; garden willows are in full
bloom, and also a species of sage with variegated leaves beneath the
flowers.

When the sepoy Perim threw away the tea and the lead lining, I only
reproved him and promised him punishment if he committed any other
wilful offence, but now he and another skulked behind and gave their
loads to a stranger to carry, with a promise to him that I would pay.
We waited two hours for them; and as the havildar said that they would
not obey him, I gave Perim and the other some smart cuts with a cane,
but I felt that I was degrading myself, and resolved not to do the
punishment myself again.

_8th July, 1866._--Hard travelling through a depopulated country. The
trees are about the size of hop-poles with abundance of tall grass;
the soil is sometimes a little sandy, at other times that reddish,
clayey sort which yields native grain so well. The rock seen uppermost
is often a ferruginous conglomerate, lying on granite rocks. The
gum-copal tree is here a mere bush, and no digging takes place for the
gum: it is called Mchenga, and yields gum when wounded, as also bark,
cloth, and cordage when stripped. Mountain masses are all around us;
we sleep at Linata mountain.

_9th July, 1866._--The Masuko fruit abounds: the name is the same here
as in the Batoka country; there are also rhododendrons of two species,
but the flowers white. We slept in a wild spot, near Mount Leziro,
with many lions roaring about us; one hoarse fellow serenaded us a
long time, but did nothing more. Game is said to be abundant, but we
saw none, save an occasional diver springing away from the path. Some
streams ran to the north-west to the Lismyando, which flows N. for the
Rovuma; others to the south-east for the Loendi.

_10th and 11th July, 1866._--Nothing to interest but the same weary
trudge: our food so scarce that we can only give a handful or half a
pound of grain to each person per day. The Masuko fruit is formed, but
not ripe till rains begin; very few birds are seen or heard, though
there is both food and water in the many grain-bearing grasses and
running streams, which we cross at the junction of every two ridges.
A dead body lay in a hut by the wayside; the poor thing had begun to
make a garden by the stream, probably in hopes of living long enough
(two months or so) on wild fruits to reap a crop of maize.

_12th July, 1866._--A drizzling mist set in during the night and
continued this morning, we set off in the dark, however, leaving our
last food for the havildar and sepoys who had not yet come up. The
streams are now of good size. An Arab brandy bottle was lying broken
in one village called Msapa. We hurried on as fast as we could to the
Luatizé, our last stage before getting to Mataka's; this stream is
rapid, about forty yards wide, waist deep, with many podostemons on
the bottom. The country gets more and more undulating and is covered
with masses of green foliage, chiefly Masuko trees, which have large
hard leaves. There are hippopotami further down the river on its way
to the Loendi. A little rice which had been kept for me I divided, but
some did not taste food.

_13th July, 1866._--A good many stragglers behind, but we push on to
get food and send it back to them. The soil all reddish clay, the
roads baked hard by the sun, and the feet of many of us are weary and
sore: a weary march and long, for it is perpetually up and down now. I
counted fifteen running streams in one day: they are at the bottom of
the valley which separates the ridges. We got to the brow of a ridge
about an hour from Mataka's first gardens, and all were so tired that
we remained to sleep; but we first invited volunteers to go on and buy
food, and bring it back early next morning: they had to be pressed to
do this duty.

_14th July, 1866._--As our volunteers did not come at 8 A.M., I set
off to see the cause, and after an hour of perpetual up and down
march, as I descended the steep slope which overlooks the first
gardens, I saw my friends start up at the apparition--they were
comfortably cooking porridge for themselves! I sent men of Mataka
back with food to the stragglers behind and came on to his town.

An Arab, Sef Rupia or Rubea, head of a large body of slaves, on his
way to the coast, most kindly came forward and presented an ox, bag of
flour, and some cooked meat, all of which were extremely welcome to
half-famished men, or indeed under any circumstances. He had heard of
our want of food and of a band of sepoys, and what could the English
think of doing but putting an end to the slave-trade? Had he seen our
wretched escort, all fear of them would have vanished! He had a large
safari or caravan under him. This body is usually divided into ten or
twelve portions, and all are bound to obey the leader to á certain
extent: in this case there were eleven parties, and the traders
numbered about sixty or seventy, who were dark coast Arabs. Each
underling had his men under him, and when I saw them they were busy
making the pens of branches in which their slaves and they sleep. Sef
came on with me to Mataka's, and introduced me in due form with
discharges of gunpowder. I asked him to come back next morning, and
presented three cloths with a request that he would assist the
havildar and sepoys, if he met them, with food: this he generously
did.

We found Mataka's town situated in an elevated valley surrounded by
mountains; the houses numbered at least 1000, and there were many
villages around. The mountains were pleasantly green, and had many
trees which the people were incessantly cutting down. They had but
recently come here: they were besieged by Mazitu at their former
location west of this; after fighting four days they left unconquered,
having beaten the enemy off.

Mataka kept us waiting some time in the verandah of his large square
house, and then made his appearance, smiling with his good-natured
face. He is about sixty years of age, dressed as an Arab, and if we
may judge from the laughter with which his remarks were always
greeted, somewhat humorous. He had never seen any but Arabs before. He
gave me a square house to live in, indeed the most of the houses here
are square, for the Arabs are imitated in everything: they have
introduced the English pea, and we were pleased to see large patches
of it in full bearing, and ripe in moist hollows which had been
selected for it. The numerous springs which come out at various parts
are all made use of. Those parts which are too wet are drained, whilst
beds are regularly irrigated by water-courses and ridges: we had
afterwards occasion to admire the very extensive draining which has
been effected among the hills. Cassava is cultivated on ridges along
all the streets in the town, which give it a somewhat regular and neat
appearance. Peas and tobacco were the chief products raised by
irrigation, but batatas and maize were often planted too: wheat would
succeed if introduced. The altitude is about 2700 feet above the sea:
the air at this time is cool, and many people have coughs.

Mataka soon sent a good mess of porridge and cooked meat (beef); he
has plenty of cattle and sheep: and the next day he sent abundance of
milk. We stand a good deal of staring unmoved, though it is often
accompanied by remarks by no means complimentary; they think that they
are not understood, and probably I do misunderstand sometimes. The
Waiyau jumble their words as I think, and Mataka thought that I did
not enunciate anything, but kept my tongue still when I spoke.

Town of Matak, Moembé. _15th July, 1866._--The safari under Sef set
off this morning for Kilwa. Sef says that about 100 of the Kilwa
people died this year, so slaving as well as philanthropy is
accompanied with loss of life: we saw about seven of their graves; the
rest died on the road up.

There are two roads from this to the Lake, one to Loséwa, which is
west of this, and opposite Kotakota; the other, to Makatu, is further
south: the first is five days through deserted country chiefly; but
the other, seven, among people and plenty of provisions all the way.

It struck me after Sef had numbered up the losses that the Kilwa
people sustained by death in their endeavours to «nslave people,
similar losses on the part of those who go to "proclaim liberty to the
captives, the opening of the prison to them that are bound,"--to save
and elevate, need not be made so very much of as they sometimes are.

Soon after our arrival we heard that a number of Mataka's Waiyau had,
without his knowledge, gone to Nyassa, and in a foray carried off
cattle and people: when they came home with the spoil, Mataka ordered
all to be sent back whence they came. The chief came up to visit me
soon after, and I told him that his decision was the best piece of
news I had heard in the country: he was evidently pleased with my
approbation, and, turning to his people, asked if they heard what I
said. He repeated my remark, and said, "You silly fellows think me
wrong in returning the captives, but all wise men will approve of it,"
and he then scolded them roundly.

I was accidentally spectator of this party going back, for on going
out of the town I saw a meat market opened, and people buying with
maize and meal. On inquiring, I was told that the people and cattle
there were the Nyassas, and they had slaughtered an ox, in order to
exchange meat for grain as provisions on the journey. The women and
children numbered fifty-four, and about a dozen boys were engaged in
milking the cows: the cattle were from twenty-five to thirty head.

The change from hard and scanty fare caused illness in several of our
party. I had tasted no animal food except what turtle-doves and
guinea-fowls could be shot since we passed Matawatawa,--true, a fowl
was given by Mtendé. The last march was remarkable for the scarcity of
birds, so eight days were spent on porridge and rice without relish.

I gave Mataka a trinket, to be kept in remembrance of his having sent
back the Nyassa people: he replied that he would always act in a
similar manner. As it was a spontaneous act, it was all the more
valuable.

The sepoys have become quite intolerable, and if I cannot get rid of
them we shall all starve before we accomplish what we wish. They
dawdle behind picking up wild fruits, and over our last march (which
we accomplished on the morning of the eighth day) they took from
fourteen to twenty-two days. Retaining their brutal feelings to the
last they killed the donkey which I lent to the havildar to carry his
things, by striking it on the head when in boggy places into which
they had senselessly driven it loaded; then the havildar came on (his
men pretending they could go no further from weakness), and killed the
young buffalo and eat it when they thought they could hatch up a
plausible story. They said it had died, and tigers came and devoured
it--they saw them. "Did you see the stripes of the tiger?" said I. All
declared that they saw the stripes distinctly. This gave us an idea of
their truthfulness, as there is no striped tiger in all Africa. All
who resolved on skulking or other bad behaviour invariably took up
with the sepoys; their talk seemed to suit evil-doers, and they were
such a disreputable-looking lot that I was quite ashamed of them. The
havildar had no authority, and all bore the sulky dogged look of
people going where they were forced but hated to go. This hang-dog
expression of countenance was so conspicuous that I many a time have
heard the country people remark, "These are the slaves of the party."
They have neither spirit nor pluck as compared with the Africans, and
if one saw a village he turned out of the way to beg in the most
abject manner, or lay down and slept, the only excuse afterwards
being, "My legs were sore." Having allowed some of them to sleep at
the fire in my house, they began a wholesale plunder of everything
they could sell, as cartridges, cloths, and meat, so I had to eject
them. One of them then threatened to shoot my interpreter Simon if he
got him in a quiet place away from the English power. As this threat
had been uttered three times, and I suspect that something of the kind
had prevented the havildar exerting his authority, I resolved to get
rid of them by sending them back to the coast by the first trader. It
is likely that some sympathizers will take their part, but I strove to
make them useful. They had but poor and scanty fare in a part of the
way, but all of us suffered alike. They made themselves thoroughly
disliked by their foul talk and abuse, and if anything tended more
than another to show me that theirs was a moral unfitness for travel,
it was the briskness assumed when they knew they were going back to
the coast. I felt inclined to force them on, but it would have been
acting from revenge, and to pay them out, so I forbore. I gave Mataka
forty-eight yards of calico, and to the sepoys eighteen yards, and
arranged that he should give them food till Suleiman, a respectable
trader, should arrive. He was expected every day, and we passed him
near the town. If they chose to go and get their luggage, it was of
course all safe for them behind. The havildar begged still to go on
with me, and I consented, though he is a drag on the party, but he
will count in any difficulty.

Abraham recognised his uncle among the crowds who came to see us. On
making himself known he found that his mother and two sisters had been
sold to the Arabs after he had been enslaved. The uncle pressed him to
remain, and Mataka urged, and so did another uncle, but in vain. I
added my voice, and could have given him goods to keep him afloat a
good while, but he invariably replied, "How can I stop where I have no
mother and no sister?" The affection seems to go to the maternal side.
I suggested that he might come after he had married a wife, but I fear
very much that unless some European would settle, none of these
Nassick boys will come to this country. It would be decidedly better
if they were taught agriculture in the simplest form, as the Indian.
Mataka would have liked to put his oxen to use, but Abraham could not
help him with that. He is a smith, or rather a nothing, for unless he
could smelt iron he would be entirely without materials to work with.

_14th-28th July, 1866._--One day, calling at Mataka's, I found as
usual a large crowd of idlers, who always respond with a laugh to
everything he utters as wit. He asked, if he went to Bombay what ought
he to take to secure some gold? I replied, "Ivory," he rejoined,
"Would slaves not be a good speculation?" I replied that, "if he took
slaves there for sale, they would put him in prison." The idea of the
great Mataka in "chokee" made him wince, and the laugh turned for once
against him. He said that as all the people from the coast crowd to
him, they ought to give him something handsome for being here to
supply their wants. I replied, if he would fill the fine well-watered
country we had passed over with people instead of sending them off to
Kilwa, he would confer a benefit on visitors, but we had been starved
on the way to him; and I then told him what the English would do in
road-making in a fine country like this. This led us to talk of
railways, ships, ploughing with oxen--the last idea struck him most. I
told him that I should have liked some of the Nassick boys to remain
and teach this and other things, but they might be afraid to venture
lest they should be sold again. The men who listened never heard such
decided protests against selling each other into slavery before!

The idea of guilt probably floated but vaguely in their minds, but
the loss of life we have witnessed (in the guilt of which the sellers
as well as the buyers participate) comes home very forcibly to their
minds.

Mataka has been an active hand in slave wars himself, though now he
wishes to settle down in quiet. The Waiyau generally are still the
most active agents the slave-traders have. The caravan leaders from
Kilwa arrive at a Waiyau village, show the goods they have brought,
are treated liberally by the elders, and told to wait and enjoy
themselves, slaves enough to purchase all will be procured: then a
foray is made against the Manganja, who have few or no guns. The
Waiyau who come against them are abundantly supplied with both by
their coast guests. Several of the low coast Arabs, who differ in
nothing from the Waiyau, usually accompany the foray, and do business
on their own account: this is the usual way in which a safari is
furnished with slaves.

Makanjela, a Waiyau chief about a third of the way from Mtendé's to
Mataka, has lost the friendship of all his neighbours by kidnapping
and selling their people; if any of Mataka's people are found in the
district between Makanjela and Moembé, they are considered fair game
and sold. Makanjela's people cannot piss Mataka to go to the Manganja,
so they do what they can by kidnapping and plundering all who fall
into their hands.

When I employed two of Mataka's people to go back on the 14th with
food to the havildar and sepoys, they went a little way and relieved
some, but would not venture as far as the Luatizé, for fear of losing
their liberty by Makanjela's people. I could not get the people of the
country to go back; nor could I ask the Nassick boys, who had been
threatened by the sepoys with assassination,--and it was the same with
the Johanna men, because, though Mahometans, the sepoys had called
them Caffirs, &c., and they all declared, "We are ready to do
anything for you, but we will do nothing for these Hindis." I sent
back a sepoy, giving him provisions; he sat down in the first village,
ate all the food, and returned.

An immense tract of country lies uninhabited. To the north-east of
Moembé we have at least fifty miles of as fine land as can be seen
anywhere, still bearing all the marks of having once supported a
prodigious iron-smelting and grain-growing population. The clay pipes
which are put on the nozzles of their bellows and inserted into the
furnace are met with everywhere--often vitrified. Then the ridges on
which they planted maize, beans, cassava, and sorghum, and which they
find necessary to drain off the too abundant moisture of the rains,
still remain unlevelled to attest the industry of the former
inhabitants; the soil being clayey, resists for a long time the
influence of the weather. These ridges are very regular, for in
crossing the old fields, as the path often compels us to do, one foot
treads regularly on the ridge, and the other in the hollow, for a
considerable distance. Pieces of broken pots, with their rims
ornamented with very good imitations of basket-work, attest that the
lady potters of old followed the example given them by their still
more ancient mothers,--their designs are rude, but better than we can
make them without referring to the original.

[Illustration: Imitation of basket-work in Pottery.]

No want of water has here acted to drive the people away, as has been
the case further south. It is a perpetual succession of ridge and
valley, with a running stream or oozing bog, where ridge is separated
from ridge: the ridges become steeper and narrower as we approach
Mataka's.

I counted fifteen running burns of from one to ten yards wide in one
day's march of about six hours; being in a hilly or rather mountainous
region, they flow rapidly and have plenty of water-power. In July any
mere torrent ceases to flow, but these were brawling burns with water
too cold (61°) for us to bathe in whose pores were all open by the
relaxing regions nearer the coast. The sound, so un-African, of
gushing water dashing over rocks was quite familiar to our ears.

This district, which rises up west of Mataka's to 3400 feet above the
sea, catches a great deal of the moisture brought up by the easterly
winds. Many of the trees are covered with lichens. While here we had
cold southerly breezes, and a sky so overcast every day after 10 A.M.,
that we could take no astronomical observations: even the latitude was
too poor to be much depended on. 12° 53' S. may have been a few miles
from this.

The cattle, rather a small breed, black and white in patches, and
brown, with humps, give milk which is duly prized by these Waiyau. The
sheep are the large-tailed variety, and generally of a black colour.
Fowls and pigeons are the only other domestic animals we see, if we
except the wretched village dogs which our-poodle had immense delight
in chasing.

The Waiyau are far from a handsome race, but they are not the
prognathous beings one sees on the West Coast either. Their heads are
of a round shape; compact foreheads, but not particularly receding;
the alae nasi are flattened out; lips full, and with the women a small
lip-ring just turns them up to give additional thickness. Their style
of beauty is exactly that which was in fashion when the stone deities
were made in the caves of Elephanta and Kenora near Bombay. À
favourite mode of dressing the hair into little knobs, which was in
fashion there, is more common in some tribes than in this. The mouths
of the women would not be so hideous with a small lip-ring if they did
not file their teeth to points, but they seem strong and able for the
work which falls to their lot. The men are large, strong-boned
fellows, and capable of enduring great fatigue, they undergo a rite
which once distinguished the Jews about the age of puberty, and take a
new name on the occasion; this was not introduced by the Arabs, whose
advent is a recent event, and they speak of the time before they were
inundated with European manufactures in exchange for slaves, as quite
within their memory.

Young Mataka gave me a dish of peas, and usually brought something
every time he made a visit, he seems a nice boy, and his father, in
speaking of learning to read, said he and his companions could learn,
but he himself was too old. The soil seems very fertile, for the sweet
potatoes become very large, and we bought two loads of them for three
cubits and two needles; they quite exceeded 1 cwt. The maize becomes
very large too; one cob had 1600 seeds. The abundance of water, the
richness of soil, the available labour for building square houses, the
coolness of the climate, make this nearly as desirable a residence as
Magomero; but, alas! instead of three weeks' easy sail up the Zambesi
and Shiré, we have spent four weary months in getting here: I shall
never cease bitterly to lament the abandonment of the Magomero
mission.

Moaning seems a favourite way of spending the time with some sick
folk. For the sake of the warmth, I allowed a Nassick boy to sleep in
my house; he and I had the same complaint, dysentery, and I was
certainly worse than he, but did not moan, while he played at it as
often as he was awake. I told him that people moaned only when too ill
to be sensible of what they were doing; the groaning ceased, though
he became worse.

Three sepoys played at groaning very vigorously outside my door; they
had nothing the matter with them, except perhaps fatigue, which we all
felt alike; as these fellows prevented my sleeping, I told them quite
civilly that, if so ill that they required to groan, they had better
move off a little way, as I could not sleep; they preferred the
verandah, and at once forbore.

The abundance of grain and other food is accompanied by great numbers
of rats or large mice, which play all manner of pranks by night; white
ants have always to be guarded against likewise. Anyone who would find
an antidote to drive them away would confer a blessing; the natural
check is the driver ant, which when it visits a house is a great pest
for a time, but it clears the others out.

FOOTNOTES:

[12] There is a double purpose in these murders; the terror inspired
in the minds of the survivors spurs them on to endure the hardships of
the march: the Portuese drivers are quite alive to the merits of this
stimulus.--ED.

[13] A tribal distinction turns on the customs prevailing with respect
to animal food, _e.g._ one tribe will eat the elephant, the next looks
on such flesh as unclean, and so with other meat. The neighbouring
Manganja gladly eat the leopard and hyaena.--ED.

[14] A coloured cloth manufactured expressly for barter in East
Africa.

[15] This is pronounced "Y-yow."--ED.




CHAPTER IV.

    Geology and description of the Waiyau land. Leaves Mataka's. The
    Nyumbo plant. Native iron-foundry. Blacksmiths. Makes for the
    Lake Nyassa. Delight at seeing the Lake once more. The Manganja
    or Nyassa tribe. Arab slave crossing. Unable to procure passage
    across. The Kungu fly. Fear of the English amongst slavers. Lake
    shore. Blue ink. Chitané changes colour. The Nsaka fish.
    Makalaosé drinks beer. The Sanjika fish. London antiquities.
    Lake rivers. Mukaté's. Lake Pamalombé. Mponda's. A slave gang.
    Wikatani discovers his relatives and remains.

_28th July, 1866._--We proposed to start to-day, but Mataka said that
he was not ready yet: the flour had to be ground, and he had given us
no meat. He had sent plenty of cooked food almost every day. He asked
if we would slaughter the ox he would give here, or take it on; we
preferred to kill it at once. He came on the 28th with a good lot of
flour for us, and men to guide us to Nyassa, telling us that this was
Moembé, and his district extended all the way to the Lake: he would
not send us to Loséwa, as that place had lately been plundered and
burned.

In general the chiefs have shown an anxiety to promote our safety. The
country is a mass of mountains. On leaving Mataka's we ascended
considerably, and about the end of the first day's march, near
Magola's village, the barometer showed our greatest altitude, about
3400 feet above the sea. There were villages of these mountaineers
everywhere, for the most part of 100 houses or more each. The springs
were made the most use of that they knew; the damp spots drained, and
the water given a free channel for use in irrigation further down:
most of these springs showed the presence of iron by the oxide oozing
out. A great many patches of peas are seen in full bearing and flower.
The trees are small, except in the hollows: there is plenty of grass
and flowers near streams and on the heights. The mountain-tops may
rise 2000 or 3000 feet above their flanks, along which we wind, going
perpetually up and down the steep ridges of which the country is but a
succession.

Looking at the geology of the district, the plateaux on each side of
the Rovuma are masses of grey sandstone, capped with masses of
ferruginous conglomerate; apparently an aqueous deposit. When we
ascend the Rovuma about sixty miles, a great many pieces and blocks of
silicified wood appear on the surface of the soil at the bottom of the
slope up the plateaux. This in Africa is a sure indication of the
presence of coal beneath, but it was not observed cropping out; the
plateaux are cut up in various directions by wadys well supplied with
grass and trees on deep and somewhat sandy soil: but at the confluence
of the Loendi highlands they appear in the far distance. In the sands
of the Loendi pieces of coal are quite common.[16]

Before reaching the confluence of the Rovuma and Loendi, or say about
ninety miles from the sea, the plateau is succeeded by a more level
country, having detached granitic masses shooting up some 500 or 700
feet. The sandstone of the plateau has at first been hardened, then
quite metamorphosed into a chocolate-coloured schist. As at Chilolé
hill, we have igneous rocks, apparently trap, capped with masses of
beautiful white dolomite. We still ascend in altitude as we go
westwards, and come upon long tracts of gneiss with hornblende. The
gneiss is often striated, all the striae looking one way--sometimes
north and south, and at other times east and west. These rocks look as
if a stratified rock had been nearly melted, and the strata fused
together by the heat. From these striated rocks have shot up great
rounded masses of granite or syenite, whose smooth sides and crowns
contain scarcely any trees, and are probably from 3000 to 4000 feet
above the sea. The elevated plains among these mountain masses show
great patches of ferruginous conglomerate, which, when broken, look
like yellow haematite with madrepore holes in it: this has made the
soil of a red colour.

On the watershed we have still the rounded granitic hills jutting
above the plains (if such they may be called) which are all ups and
downs, and furrowed with innumerable running rills, the sources of the
Rovuma and Loendi. The highest rock observed with mica schist was at
an altitude of 3440 feet. The same uneven country prevails as we
proceed from the watershed about forty miles down to the Lake, and a
great deal of quartz in small fragments renders travelling-very
difficult. Near the Lake, and along its eastern shore, we have mica
schist and gneiss foliated, with a great deal of hornblende; but the
most remarkable feature of it is that the rocks are all tilted on
edge, or slightly inclined to the Lake. The active agent in effecting
this is not visible. It looks as if a sudden rent had been made, so as
to form the Lake, and tilt all these rocks nearly over. On the east
side of the lower part of the Lake we have two ranges of mountains,
evidently granitic: the nearer one covered with small trees and lower
than the other; the other jagged and bare, or of the granitic forms.
But in all this country no fossil-yielding rock was visible except the
grey sandstone referred to at the beginning of this note. The rocks
are chiefly the old crystalline forms.

One fine straight tall tree in the hollows seemed a species of fig:
its fruit was just forming, but it was too high for me to ascertain
its species. The natives don't eat the fruit, but they eat the large
grubs which come out of it. The leaves were fifteen inches long by
five broad: they call it Unguengo.

_29th July, 1866._--At Magola's village. Although we are now rid of
the sepoys, we cannot yet congratulate ourselves on being rid of the
lazy habits of lying down in the path which they introduced. A strong
scud comes up from the south bringing much moisture with it: it blows
so hard above, this may be a storm on the coast. Temperature in
mornings 55°.

_30th July, 1866._--A short march brought us to Pezimba's village,
which consists of 200 houses and huts. It is placed very nicely on a
knoll between two burns, which, as usual, are made use of for
irrigating peas in winter time. The headman said that if we left now
we had a good piece of jungle before us, and would sleep twice in it
before reaching Mbanga. We therefore remained. An Arab party, hearing
of our approach, took a circuitous route among the mountains to avoid
coming in contact with us. In travelling to Pezimba's we had commenced
our western descent to the Lake, for we were now lower than Magola's
by 300 feet. We crossed many rivulets and the Lochesi, a good-sized
stream. The watershed parts some streams for Loendi and some for
Rovuma. There is now a decided scantiness of trees. Many of the
hill-tops are covered with grass or another plant; there is pleasure
now in seeing them bare. Ferns, rhododendrons, and a foliaged tree,
which looks in the distance like silver-fir, are met with.

The Mandaré root is here called Nyumbo, when cooked it has a slight
degree of bitterness with it which cultivation may remove. Mica schist
crowned some of the heights on the watershed, then gneiss, and now, as
we descend further, we have igneous rocks of more recent eruption,
porphyry and gneiss, with hornblende. A good deal of ferruginous
conglomerate, with holes in it, covers many spots; when broken, it
looks like yellow haematite, with black linings to the holes: this is
probably the ore used in former times by the smiths, of whose
existence we now find still more evidence than further east.

_31st July, 1866._--I had presented Pezimba with a cloth, so he cooked
for us handsomely last night, and this morning desired us to wait a
little as he had not yet sufficient meal made to present: we waited
and got a generous present.

It was decidedly milder here than at Mataka's, and we had a clear sky.
In our morning's march we passed the last of the population, and went
on through a fine well-watered fruitful country, to sleep near a
mountain called Mtéwiré, by a stream called Msapo. A very large Arab
slave-party was close by our encampment, and I wished to speak to
them; but as soon as they knew of our being near they set off in a
pathless course across country, and were six days in the
wilderness.[17]

_1st August, 1866._--We saw the encampment of another Arab party. It
consisted of ten pens, each of which, from the number of fires it
contained, may have held from eighty to a hundred slaves. The people
of the country magnified the numbers, saying that they would reach
from this to Mataka's; but from all I can learn, I think that from 300
to 800 slaves is the commoner gang. This second party went across
country very early this morning. We saw the fire-sticks which the
slaves had borne with them. The fear they feel is altogether the
effect of the English name, for we have done nothing to cause their
alarm.

_2nd August, 1866._--There was something very cheering to me in the
sight at our encampment of yellow grass and trees dotted over it, as
in the Bechuana country. The birds were singing merrily too, inspired
by the cold, which was 47°, and by the vicinity of some population.
Gum-copal trees and bushes grow here as well as all over the country;
but gum is never dug for, probably because the trees were never large
enough to yield the fossil gum. Marks of smiths are very abundant and
some furnaces are still standing. Much cultivation must formerly have
been where now all is jungle.

We arrived at Mbanga, a village embowered in trees, chiefly of the
euphorbia, so common in the Manganja country further south. Kandulo,
the headman, had gone to drink beer at another village, but sent
orders to give a hut and to cook for us. We remained next day. Took
lunars.

We had now passed through, at the narrowest part, the hundred miles of
depopulated country, of which about seventy are on the N.E. of Mataka.
The native accounts differ as to the cause. Some say slave wars, and
assert that the Makoa from the vicinity of Mozambique played an
important part in them; others say famine; others that the people have
moved to and beyond Nyassa.[18] Certain it is, from the potsherds
strewed over the country, and the still remaining ridges on which
beans, sorghum, maize, and cassava, were planted, that the departed
population was prodigious. The Waiyau, who are now in the country,
came from the other side of the Rovuma, and they probably supplanted
the Manganja, an operation which we see going on at the present day.

_4th August, 1866._--An hour and a half brought us to Miulé, a village
on the same level with Mbanga; and the chief pressing us to stay, on
the plea of our sleeping two nights in the jungle, instead of one if
we left early next morning, we consented. I asked him what had become
of the very large iron-smelting population of this region; he said
many had died of famine, others had fled to the west of Nyassa: the
famine is the usual effect of slave wars, and much death is thereby
caused--probably much more than by the journey to the coast. He had
never heard any tradition of stone hatchets having been used, nor of
stone spear-heads or arrowheads of that material, nor had he heard of
any being turned up by the women in hoeing. The Makondé, as we saw,
use wooden spears where iron is scarce. I saw wooden hoes used for
tilling the soil in the Bechuana and Bataka countries, but never stone
ones. In 1841 I saw a Bushwoman in the Cape Colony with a round stone
and a hole through it; on being asked she showed me how it was used by
inserting the top of a digging-stick into it, and digging a root. The
stone was to give the stick weight.

[Illustration.]

The stones still used as anvils and sledge-hammers by many of the
African smiths, when considered from their point of view, show sounder
sense than if they were burdened with the great weights we use. They
are unacquainted with the process of case-hardening, which, applied to
certain parts of our anvils, gives them their usefulness, and an anvil
of their soft iron would not do so well as a hard stone. It is true a
small light one might be made, but let any one see how the hammers of
their iron bevel over and round in the faces with a little work, and
he will perceive that only a wild freak would induce any sensible
native smith to make a mass equal to a sledge-hammer, and burden
himself with a weight for what can be better performed by a stone. If
people are settled, as on the coast, then they gladly use any mass of
cast iron they may find, but never where, as in the interior, they
have no certainty of remaining any length of time in one spot.

_5th August, 1866._--We left Miulé, and commenced our march towards
Lake Nyassa, and slept at the last of the streams that flow to the
Loendi. In Mataka's vicinity, N.E., there is a perfect brush of
streams flowing to that river: one forms a lake in its course, and the
sources of the Rovuma lie in the same region. After leaving Mataka's
we crossed a good-sized one flowing to Loendi, and, the day after
leaving Pezimba's, another going to the Chiringa or Lochiringa, which
is a tributary of the Rovuma.

_6th August, 1866._--We passed two cairns this morning at the
beginning of the very sensible descent to the Lake. They are very
common in all this Southern Africa in the passes of the mountains, and
are meant to mark divisions of countries, perhaps burial-places, but
the Waiyau who accompanied us thought that they were merely heaps of
stone collected by some one making a garden. The cairns were placed
just about the spot where the blue waters of Nyassa first came fairly
into view.

We now came upon a stream, the Misinjé, flowing into the Lake, and we
crossed it five times; it was about twenty yards wide, and thigh deep.
We made but short stages when we got on the lower plateau, for the
people had great abundance of food, and gave large presents of it if
we rested. One man gave four fowls, three large baskets of maize,
pumpkins, eland's fat--a fine male, as seen by his horns,--and pressed
us to stay, that he might see our curiosities as well as others. He
said that at one day's distance south of him all sorts of animals, as
buffaloes, elands, elephants, hippopotami, and antelopes, could be
shot.

_8th August, 1866._--We came to the Lake at the confluence of the
Misinjé, and felt grateful to That Hand which had protected us thus
far on our journey. It was as if I had come back to an old home I
never expected again to see; and pleasant to bathe in the delicious
waters again, hear the roar of the sea, and dash in the rollers. Temp.
71° at 8 A.M., while the air was 65°. I feel quite exhilarated.

The headman here, Mokalaosé, is a real Manganja, and he and all his
people exhibit the greater darkness of colour consequent on being in a
warm moist climate; he is very friendly, and presented millet,
porridge, cassava, and hippopotamus meat boiled and asked if I liked
milk, as he had some of Mataka's cattle here. His people bring sanjika
the best Lake fish, for sale; they are dried on stages over slow
fires, and lose their fine flavour by it, but they are much prized
inland. I bought fifty for a fathom of calico; when fresh, they taste
exactly like the best herrings, _i.e._ as we think, but voyagers' and
travellers' appetites are often so whetted as to be incapable of
giving a true verdict in matters of taste.

[It is necessary to explain that Livingstone knew of an Arab
settlement on the western shore of the Lake, and that he hoped to
induce the chief man Jumbé to give him a passage to the other side.]

_10th August, 1866._--I sent Seyed Majid's letter up to Jumbé, but the
messenger met some coast Arabs at the Loangwa, which may be seven
miles from this, and they came back with him, haggling a deal about
the fare, and then went off, saying that they would bring the dhow
here for us. Finding that they did not come, I sent Musa, who brought
back word that they had taken the dhow away over to Jumbé at Kotakota,
or, as they pronounce it, Ngotagota. Very few of the coast Arabs can
read; in words they are very polite, but truthfulness seems very
little regarded. I am resting myself and people--working up journal,
lunars, and altitudes--but will either move south or go to the Arabs
towards the north soon.

Mokalaosé's fears of the Waiyau will make him welcome Jumbé here, and
then the Arab will some day have an opportunity of scattering his
people as he has done those at Kotakota. He has made Loséwa too hot
for himself. When the people there were carried off by Mataka's
people, Jumbé seized their stores of grain, and now has no post to
which he can go there. The Loangwa Arabs give an awful account of
Jumbé's murders and selling the people, but one cannot take it all in;
at the mildest it must have been bad. This is all they ever do; they
cannot form a state or independent kingdom: slavery and the
slave-trade are insuperable obstacles to any permanence inland; slaves
can escape so easily, all therefore that the Arabs do is to collect as
much money as they can by hook and by crook, and then leave the
country.

We notice a bird called namtambwé, which sings very nicely with a
strong voice after dark here at the Misinjé confluence.

_11th August, 1866._--Two headmen came down country from villages
where we slept, bringing us food, and asking how we are treated; they
advise our going south to Mukaté's, where the Lake is narrow.

_12th-14th August, 1866._--Map making; but my energies were sorely
taxed by the lazy sepoys, and I was usually quite tired out at night.
Some men have come down from Mataka's, and report the arrival of an
Englishman with cattle for me, "he has two eyes behind as well as two
in front:" this is enough of news for awhile!

Mokalaosé has his little afflictions, and he tells me of them. A wife
ran away, I asked how many he had; he told me twenty in all: I then
thought he had nineteen too many. He answered with the usual reason,
"But who would cook for strangers if I had but one?"

We saw clouds of "kungu" gnats on the Lake; they are not eaten here.
An ungenerous traveller coming here with my statement in his hand,
and finding the people denying all knowledge of how to catch and cook
them, might say that I had been romancing in saying I had seen them
made into cakes in the northern part of the Lake; when asking here
about them, a stranger said, "They know how to use them in the north;
we do not."

Mokalaosé thinks that the Arabs are afraid that I may take their dhows
from them and go up to the north. He and the other headmen think that
the best way will be to go to Mukaté's in the south. All the Arabs
flee from me, the English name being in their minds inseparably
connected with recapturing slavers: they cannot conceive that I have
any other object in view; they cannot read Seyed Majid's letter.

_21st August, 1866._--Started for the Loangwa, on the east side of the
Lake; hilly all the way, about seven miles. This river may be twenty
yards wide near its confluence; the Misinjé is double that: each has
accumulated a promontory of deposit and enters the Lake near its apex.
We got a house from a Waiyau man on a bank about forty feet above the
level of Nyassa, but I could not sleep for the manoeuvres of a crowd
of the minute ants which infested it. They chirrup distinctly; they
would not allow the men to sleep either, though all were pretty tired
by the rough road up.

_22nd August, 1866._--We removed to the south side of the Loangwa,
where there are none of these little pests.

_23rd August, 1866._--Proposed to the Waiyau headman to send a canoe
over to call Jumbé, as I did not believe in the assertions of the
half-caste Arab here that he had sent for his. All the Waiyau had
helped me, and why not he? He was pleased with this, but advised
waiting till a man sent to Loséwa should return.

_24th August, 1866._--A leopard took a dog out of a house next to
ours; he had bitten a man before, but not mortally. _29th August,
1866._--News come that the two dhows have come over to Loséwa
(Loséfa). The Mazitu had chased Jumbé up the hills: had they said, on
to an island, I might have believed them.

_30th August,1866._--The fear which the English have inspired in the
Arab slave-traders is rather inconvenient. All flee from me as if I
had the plague, and I cannot in consequence transmit letters to the
coast, or get across the Lake. They seem to think that if I get into a
dhow I will be sure to burn it. As the two dhows on the Lake are used
for nothing else but the slave-trade, their owners have no hope of my
allowing them to escape, so after we have listened to various lies as
excuses, we resolve to go southwards, and cross at the point of
departure of the Shiré from the Lake. I took lunars several times on
both sides of the moon, and have written a despatch for Lord
Clarendon, besides a number of private letters.

_3rd September, 1866._--Went down to confluence of the Misinjé and
came to many of the eatable insect "kungu,"--they are caught by a
quick motion of the hand holding a basket. We got a cake of these same
insects further down; they make a buzz like a swarm of bees, and are
probably the perfect state of some Lake insect.

I observed two beaches of the Lake: one about fifteen feet above the
present high-water mark, and the other about forty above that; but
between the two the process of disintegration, which results from the
sudden cold and heat in these regions, has gone on so much that seldom
is a well-rounded smoothed one seen; the lower beach is very well
marked.

The strike of large masses of foliated gneiss is parallel with the
major axis of the Lake, and all are tilted on edge. Some are a little
inclined to the Lake, as if dipping to it westwards, but others are as
much inclined the opposite way, or twisted.

I made very good blue ink from the juice of a berry, the fruit of a
creeper, which is the colour of port wine when expressed. A little
ferri carb. ammon., added to this is all that is required.

The poodle dog Chitané is rapidly changing the colour of its hair. All
the parts corresponding to the ribs and neck are rapidly becoming red;
the majority of country dogs are of this colour.

The Manganja, or Wa-nyassa, are an aboriginal race; they have great
masses of hair, and but little, if any, of the prognathous in the
profile. Their bodies and limbs are very well made, and the
countenance of the men is often very pleasant. The women are very
plain and lumpy, but exceedingly industrious in their gardens from
early morning till about 11 A.M., then from 3 P.M. till dark, or
pounding corn and grinding it: the men make twine or nets by day, and
are at their fisheries in the evenings and nights. They build the
huts, the women plaster them.

A black fish, the Nsaka, makes a hole, with raised edges, which, with
the depth from which they are taken, is from fifteen to eighteen
inches, and from two to three feet broad. It is called by the natives
their house. The pair live in it for some time, or until the female
becomes large for spawning; this operation over, the house is left.

I gave Mokalaosé some pumpkin seed and peas. He took me into his
house, and presented a quantity of beer. I drank a little, and seeing
me desist from taking more, he asked if I wished a servant-girl to
"_pata mimba_." Not knowing what was meant, I offered the girl the
calabash of beer, and told her to drink, but this was not the
intention. He asked if I did not wish more; and then took the vessel,
and as he drank the girl performed the operation on himself. Placing
herself in front, she put both hands round his waist below the short
ribs, and pressing gradually drew them round to his belly in front.
He took several prolonged draughts, and at each she repeated the
operation, as if to make the liquor go equally over the stomach. Our
topers don't seem to have discovered the need for this.

_5th September, 1866._--Our march is along the shore to Ngombo
promontory, which approaches so near to Senga or Tsenga opposite, as
to narrow the Lake to some sixteen or eighteen miles. It is a low
sandy point, the edge fringed on the north-west and part of the south
with a belt of papyrus and reeds; the central parts wooded. Part of
the south side has high sandy dunes, blown up by the south wind, which
strikes it at right angles there. One was blowing as we marched along
the southern side eastwards, and was very tiresome. We reached
Panthunda's village by a brook called Lilolé. Another we crossed
before coming to it is named Libesa: these brooks form the favourite
spawning grounds of the sanjika and mpasa, two of the best fishes of
the Lake. The sanjika is very like our herring in shape and taste and
size; the mpasa larger every way: both live on green herbage formed at
the bottom of the Lake and rivers.

_7th September, 1866._--Chirumba's village being on the south side of
a long lagoon, we preferred sleeping on the mainland, though they
offered their cranky canoes to ferry us over. This lagoon is called
Pansangwa.

_8th September, 1866._--In coming along the southern side of Ngombo
promontory we look eastwards, but when we leave it we turn southwards,
having a double range of lofty mountains on our left. These are
granitic in form, the nearer range being generally the lowest, and
covered with scraggy trees; the second, or more easterly, is some 6000
feet above the sea, bare and rugged, with jagged peaks shooting high
into the air. This is probably the newest range. The oldest people
have felt no earthquake, but some say that they have heard of such
things from their elders.

We passed very many sites of old villages, which are easily known by
the tree euphorbia planted round an umbelliferous one, and the sacred
fig. One species here throws out strong buttresses in the manner of
some mangroves instead of sending down twiners which take root, as is
usually the ease with the tropical fig. These, with millstones--stones
for holding the pots in cooking--and upraised clay benches, which have
been turned into brick by fire in the destruction of the huts, show
what were once the "pleasant haunts of men." No stone implements ever
appear. If they existed they could not escape notice, since the eyes
in walking are almost always directed to the ground to avoid stumbling
on stones or stumps. In some parts of the world stone implements are
so common they seem to have been often made and discarded as soon as
formed, possibly by getting better tools; if, indeed, the manufacture
is not as modern as that found by Mr. Waller. Passing some navvies in
the City who were digging for the foundation of a house, he observed a
very antique-looking vase, wet from the clay, standing on the bank. He
gave ten shillings for it, and subsequently, by the aid of a scrubbing
brush and some water, detected the hieroglyphics "Copeland late Spode"
on the bottom of it!

Here the destruction is quite recent, and has been brought about by
some who entertained us very hospitably on the Misinjé, before we came
to the confluence. The woman chief, Ulenjelenjé, or Njelenjé, bore a
part in it for the supply of Arab caravans. It was the work of the
Masininga, a Waiyau tribe, of which her people form a part. They
almost depopulated the broad fertile tract, of some three or four
miles, between the mountain range and the Lake, along which our course
lay. It was wearisome to see the skulls and bones scattered about
everywhere; one would fain not notice them, but they are so striking
as one trudges along the sultry path, that it cannot be avoided.

_9th September, 1866._--We spent Sunday at Kandango's village. The men
killed a hippopotamus when it was sleeping on the shore; a full-grown
female, 10 feet 9 inches from the snout to the insertion of the tail,
and 4 feet 4 inches high at the withers. The bottom here and all along
southwards now is muddy. Many of the _Siluris Glanis_ are caught equal
in length to an eleven or a twelve-pound salmon, but a great portion
is head; slowly roasted on a stick stuck in the ground before the fire
they seemed to me much more savoury than I ever tasted them before.
With the mud we have many shells: north of Ngombo scarcely one can be
seen, and there it is sandy or rocky.

_10th September, 1866._--In marching southwards we came close to the
range (the Lake lies immediately on the other side of it), but we
could not note the bays which it forms; we crossed two mountain
torrents from sixty to eighty yards broad, and now only ankle deep. In
flood these bring down enormous trees, which are much battered and
bruised among the rocks in their course; they spread over the plain,
too, and would render travelling here in the rains impracticable.
After spending the night at a very civil headman's chefu, we crossed
the Lotendé, another of these torrents: each very lofty mass in the
range seemed to give rise to one. Nothing of interest occurred as we
trudged along. A very poor headman, Pamawawa, presented a roll of salt
instead of food: this was grateful to us, as we have been without that
luxury some time.

_12th September, 1866._--We crossed the rivulet Nguena, and then went
on to another with a large village by it, it is called Pantoza
Pangone. The headman had been suffering from sore eyes for four
months, and pressed me to stop and give him medicine, which I did.

_13th September, 1866._--We crossed a strong brook called Nkoré. My
object in mentioning the brooks which were flowing at this time, and
near the end of the dry season, is to give an idea of the sources of
supply of evaporation. The men enumerate the following, north of the
Misinjé. Those which are greater are marked thus +, and the lesser
ones -.

     1. Misinjé + has canoes.
     2. Loangwa -
     3. Leséfa -
     4. Lelula -
     5. Nchamanjé -
     6. Musumba +
     7. Fubwé +
     8. Chia -
     9. Kisanga +
    10. Bweka -
    11. Chifumero + has canoes.
    12. Loangwa -
    13. Mkoho -
    14. Mangwelo - at N. end of Lake.

Including the above there are twenty or twenty-four perennial brooks
and torrents which give a good supply of water in the dry season; in
the wet season they are supplemented by a number of burns, which,
though flowing now, have their mouths blocked up with bars of sand,
and yield nothing except by percolation; the Lake rises at least four
feet perpendicularly in the wet season, and has enough during the year
from these perennial brooks to supply the Shiré's continual flow.

[It will be remembered that the beautiful river Shiré carries off the
waters of Lake Nyassa and joins the Zambesi near Mount Morambala,
about ninety miles from the sea. It is by this water-way that
Livingstone always hoped to find an easy access to Central Africa.
The only obstacles that exist are, first, the foolish policy of the
Portuguese with regard to Customs' duties at the mouth of the Zambesi;
and secondly, a succession of cataracts on the Shiré, which impede
navigation for seventy miles. The first hindrance may give way under
more liberal views than those which prevail at present at the Court of
Lisbon, and then the remaining difficulty--accepted as a fact--will be
solved by the establishment of a boat service both above and below the
cataracts. Had Livingstone survived he would have been cheered by
hearing that already several schemes are afoot to plant Missions in
the vicinity of Lake Nyassa, and we may with confidence look to the
revival of the very enterprise which he presently so bitterly deplores
as a thing of the past, for Bishop Steere has fully determined to
re-occupy the district in which fell his predecessor, Bishop
Mackenzie, and others attached to the Universities Mission.]

In the course of this day's march we were pushed close to the Lake by
Mount Gomé, and, being now within three miles of the end of the Lake,
we could see the whole plainly. There we first saw the Shiré emerge,
and there also we first gazed on the broad waters of Nyassa.

Many hopes have been disappointed here. Far down on the right bank of
the Zambesi lies the dust of her whose death changed all my future
prospects; and now, instead of a check being given to the slave-trade
by lawful commerce on the Lake, slave-dhows prosper!

An Arab slave-party fled on hearing of us yesterday. It is impossible
not to regret the loss of good Bishop Mackenzie, who sleeps far down
the Shiré, and with him all hope of the Gospel being introduced into
Central Africa. The silly abandonment of all the advantages of the
Shiré route by the Bishop's successor I shall ever bitterly deplore,
but all will come right some day, though I may not live to
participate in the joy, or even see the commencement of better times.

In the evening we reached the village of Cherekalongwa on the brook
Pamchololo, and were very jovially received by the headman with beer.
He says that Mukaté,[19] Kabinga, and Mponda alone supply the
slave-traders now by raids on the Manganja, but they go S.W. to the
Maravi, who, impoverished by a Mazitu raid, sell each other as well.

_14th, September, 1866._--At Cherekalongwa's (who has a skin disease,
believed by him to have been derived from eating fresh-water turtles),
we were requested to remain one day in order that he might see us. He
had heard much about us; had been down the Shiré, and as far as
Mosambique, but never had an Englishman in his town before. As the
heat is great we were glad of the rest and beer, with which he very
freely supplied us.

I saw the skin of a Phenembe, a species of lizard which devours
chickens; here it is named Salka. It had been flayed by a cut up the
back--body, 12 inches; across belly, 10 inches.

After nearly giving up the search for Dr. Roscher's point of reaching
the Lake--because no one, either Arab or native, had the least idea of
either Nusseewa or Makawa, the name given to the place--I discovered
it in Lesséfa, the accentuated _é_ being sounded as our _e_ in _set_.
This word would puzzle a German philologist, as being the origin of
Nussewa, but the Waiyau pronounce it Loséwa, the Arabs Lusséwa, and
Roscher's servant transformed the _L_ and _é_ into _N_ and _ee_, hence
Nusseewa. In confirmation of this rivulet Leséfa, which is opposite
Kotakota, or, as the Arabs pronounce it, Nkotakota, the chief is
Mangkaka (Makawa), or as there is a confusion of names as to chief it
may be Mataka, whose town and district is called Moembé, the town
Pamoembe = Mamemba.

I rest content with Kingomango so far verifying the place at which he
arrived two months after we had discovered Lake Nyassa. He deserved
all the credit due to finding the way thither, but he travelled as an
Arab, and no one suspected him to be anything else. Our visits have
been known far and wide, and great curiosity excited; but Dr. Roscher
merits the praise only of preserving his _incognito_ at a distance
from Kilwa: his is almost the only case known of successfully assuming
the Arab guise--Burckhardt is the exception. When Mr. Palgrave came to
Muscat, or a town in Oman where our political agent Col. Desborough
was stationed, he was introduced to that functionary by an interpreter
as Hajee Ali, &c. Col. Desborough replied, "You are no Hajee Ali, nor
anything else but Gifford Palgrave, with whom I was schoolfellow at
the Charter House." Col. Desborough said he knew him at once, from a
peculiar way of holding his head, and Palgrave begged him not to
disclose his real character to his interpreter, on whom, and some
others, he had been imposing. I was told this by Mr. Dawes, a
Lieutenant in the Indian navy, who accompanied Colonel Pelly in his
visit to the Nejed, Riad, &c, and took observations for him.

_Tañgaré_ is the name of a rather handsome bean, which possesses
intoxicating qualities. To extract these it is boiled, then peeled,
and new water supplied: after a second and third boiling it is
pounded, and the meal taken to the river and the water allowed to
percolate through it several times. Twice cooking still leaves the
intoxicating quality; but if eaten then it does not cause death: it is
curious that the natives do not use it expressly to produce
intoxication. When planted near a tree it grows all over it, and
yields abundantly: the skin of the pod is velvety, like our broad
beans.

Another bean, with a pretty white mark on it, grows freely, and is
easily cooked, and good: it is here called _Gwingwiza_.

_15th September, 1866._--We were now a short distance south of the
Lake, and might have gone west to Mosauka's (called by some Pasauka's)
to cross the Shiré there, but I thought that my visit to Mukaté's, a
Waiyau chief still further south, might do good. He, Mponda, and
Kabinga, are the only three chiefs who still carry on raids against
the Manganja at the instigation of the coast Arabs, and they are now
sending periodical marauding parties to the Maravi (here named Malola)
to supply the Kilwa slave-traders. We marched three hours southwards,
then up the hills of the range which flanks all the lower part of the
Lake. The altitude of the town is about 800 feet above the Lake. The
population near the chief is large, and all the heights as far as the
eye can reach are crowned with villages. The second range lies a few
miles off, and is covered with trees as well as the first, the nearest
high mass is Mañgoché. The people live amidst plenty. All the chiefs
visited by the Arabs have good substantial square houses built for
their accommodation. Mukaté never saw a European before, and
everything about us is an immense curiosity to him and to his people.
We had long visits from him. He tries to extract a laugh out of every
remark. He is darker than the generality of Waiyau, with a full beard
trained on the chin, as all the people hereabouts have--Arab fashion.
The courts of his women cover a large space, our house being on one
side of them. I tried to go out that way, but wandered, so the ladies
sent a servant to conduct me out in the direction I wished to go, and
we found egress by passing through some huts with two doors in them.

_16th September, 1866._--At Mukaté's. The Prayer Book does not give
ignorant persons any idea of an unseen Being addressed, it looks more
like reading or speaking to the book: kneeling and praying with eyes
shut is better than, our usual way of holding Divine service.

We had a long discussion about the slave-trade. The Arabs have told
the chief that our object in capturing slavers is to get them into our
own possession, and make them of our own religion. The evils which we
have seen--the skulls, the ruined villages, the numbers who perish on
the way to the coast and on the sea, the wholesale murders committed
by the Waiyau to build up Arab villages elsewhere--these things Mukaté
often tried to turn off with a laugh, but our remarks are safely
lodged in many hearts. Next day, as we went along, our guide
spontaneously delivered their substance to the different villages
along our route. Before we reached him, a headman, in convoying me a
mile or two, whispered to me, "Speak to Mukaté to give his forays up."

It is but little we can do, but we lodge a protest in the heart
against a vile system, and time may ripen it. Their great argument is,
"What could we do without Arab cloth?" My answer is, "Do what you did
before the Arabs came into the country." At the present rate of
destruction of population, the whole country will soon be a desert.

An earthquake happened here last year, that is about the end of it or
beginning of this (the crater on the Grand. Comoro Island smoked for
three months about that time); it shook all the houses and everything,
but they observed no other effects.[20] No hot springs are known here.

_17th September, 1866._--We marched down from Mukaté's and to about
the middle of the Lakelet Pamalombé. Mukaté had no people with canoes
near the usual crossing place, and he sent a messenger to see that we
were fairly served. Here we got the Manganja headmen to confess that
an earthquake had happened; all the others we have inquired of have
denied it; why, I cannot conceive. The old men said that they had felt
earthquakes twice, once near sunset and the next time at night--they
shook everything, and were accompanied with noise, and all the fowls
cackled; there was no effect on the Lake observed. They profess
ignorance of any tradition of the water having stood higher. Their
traditions say that they came originally from the west, or west
north-west, which they call "Maravi;" and that their forefathers
taught them to make nets and kill fish. They have no trace of any
teaching by a higher instructor; no carvings or writings on the rocks;
and they never heard of a book until we came among them. Their
forefathers never told them that after or at death they went to God,
but they had heard it said of such a one who died, "God took him."

_18th September, 1866._--We embarked the whole party in eight canoes,
and went up the Lake to the point of junction between it and the
prolongation of Nyassa above it, called Massangano ("meetings"), which
took us two hours. A fishing party there fled on seeing us, though we
shouted that we were a travelling party (or "Olendo ").

Mukaté's people here left us, and I walked up to the village of the
fugitives with one attendant only. Their suspicions were so thoroughly
aroused that they would do nothing. The headman (Pima) was said to be
absent; they could not lend us a hut, but desired us to go on to
Mponda's. We put up a shed for ourselves, and next morning, though we
pressed them for a guide, no one would come.

From Pima's village we had a fine view of Pamalombé and the range of
hills on its western edge, the range which flanks the lower part of
Nyassa,--on part of which Mukaté lives,--the gap of low land south of
it behind which Shirwa Lake lies, and Chikala and Zomba nearly due
south from us. People say hippopotami come from Lake Shirwa into Lake
Nyassa. There is a great deal of vegetation in Pamalombé, gigantic
rushes, duckweed, and great quantities of aquatic plants on the
bottom; one slimy translucent plant is washed ashore in abundance.
Fish become very fat on these plants; one called "kadiakola" I eat
much of; it has a good mass of flesh on it.

It is probable that the people of Lake Tanganyika and Nyassa, and
those on the Rivers Shiré and Zambesi, are all of one stock, for the
dialects vary very little.[21] I took observations on this point. An
Arab slave-party, hearing of us, decamped.

_19th September, 1866._--When we had proceeded a mile this morning we
came to 300 or 400 people making salt on a plain impregnated with it.
They lixiviate the soil and boil the water, which has filtered through
a bunch of grass in a hole in the bottom of a pot, till all is
evaporated and a mass of salt left. We held along the plain till we
came to Mponda's, a large village, with a stream running past. The
plain at the village is very fertile, and has many large trees on it.
The cattle of Mponda are like fatted Madagascar beasts, and the hump
seems as if it would weigh 100 lbs.[22] The size of body is so
enormous that their legs, as remarked by our men, seemed very small.
Mponda is a blustering sort of person, but immensely interested in
everything European. He says that he would like to go with me. "Would
not care though he were away ten years." I say that he may die in the
journey.--"He will die here as well as there, but he will see all the
wonderful doings of our country." He knew me, having come to the boat,
to take a look _incognito_ when we were here formerly.

We found an Arab slave-party here, and went to look at the slaves;
seeing this; Mponda was alarmed lest we should proceed to violence in
his town, but I said to him that we went to look only. Eighty-five
slaves were in a pen formed of dura stalks _(Holcus sorghum_). The
majority were boys of about eight or ten years of age; others were
grown men and women. Nearly all were in the taming-stick; a few of the
younger ones were in thongs, the thong passing round the neck of each.
Several pots were on the fires cooking dura and beans. A crowd went
with us, expecting a scene, but I sat down, and asked a few questions
about the journey, in front. The slave-party consisted of five or six
half-caste coast Arabs, who said that they came from Zanzibar; but the
crowd made such a noise that we could not hear ourselves speak. I
asked if they had any objections to my looking at the slaves, the
owners pointed out the different slaves, and said that after feeding
them, and accounting for the losses in the way to the coast, they made
little by the trip. I suspect that the gain is made by those who ship
them to the ports of Arabia, for at Zanzibar most of the younger
slaves we saw went at about seven dollars a head. I said to them it
was a bad business altogether. They presented fowls to me in the
evening.

_20th September, 1866._--The chief begged so hard that I would stay
another day and give medicine to a sick child, that I consented. He
promised plenty of food, and, as an earnest of his sincerity, sent an
immense pot of beer in the evening. The child had been benefited by
the medicine given yesterday. He offered more food than we chose to
take.

The agricultural class does not seem to be a servile one: all
cultivate, and the work is esteemed. The chief was out at his garden
when we arrived, and no disgrace is attached to the field labourer.
The slaves very likely do the chief part of the work, but all engage
in it, and are proud of their skill. Here a great deal of grain is
raised, though nearly all the people are Waiyau or Machinga. This is
remarkable, as they have till lately been marauding and moving from
place to place. The Manganja possessed the large breed of humped
cattle which fell into the hands of the Waiyau, and knew how to milk
them. Their present owners never milk them, and they have dwindled
into a few instead of the thousands of former times.[23]

A lion killed a woman early yesterday morning, and ate most of her
undisturbed.

It is getting very hot; the ground to the feet of the men "burns like
fire" after noon, so we are now obliged to make short marches, and
early in the morning chiefly.

Wikatani--Bishop Mackenzie's favourite boy--met a brother here, and he
finds that he has an elder brother and a sister at Kabinga's. The
father who sold him into slavery is dead. He wishes to stop with his
relatives, and it will be well if he does. Though he has not much to
say, what he does advance against the slave-trade will have its
weight, and it will all be in the way of preparation for better times
and more light.

The elder brother was sent for, but had not arrived when it was
necessary for us to leave Mponda's on the Rivulet Ntemangokwé. I
therefore gave Wikatani some cloth, a flint gun instead of the
percussion one he carried, some flints, paper to write upon, and
commended him to Mponda's care till his relatives arrived. He has
lately shown a good deal of levity, and perhaps it is best that he
should have a touch of what the world is in reality.

[In a letter written about this time Dr. Livingstone, in speaking of
Wikatani, says, "He met with a brother, and found that he had two
brothers and one or two sisters living down at the western shore of
Lake Pamelombé under Kabinga. He thought that his relatives would not
again sell him. I had asked him if he wished to remain, and he at once
said yes, so I did not attempt to dissuade him: his excessive levity
will perhaps be cooled by marriage. I think he may do good by telling
some of what he has seen and heard. I asked him if he would obey an
order from his chief to hunt the Manganja, and he said, 'No.' I hope
he won't. In the event of any mission coming into the country of
Mataka, he will go there. I gave him paper to write to you,[24] and,
commending him to the chiefs, bade the poor boy farewell. I was sorry
to part with him, but the Arabs tell the Waiyau chiefs that our object
in liberating slaves is to make them our own and turn them to our
religion. I had declared to them, through Wikatani as interpreter,
that they never became our slaves, and were at liberty to go back to
their relatives if they liked; and now it was impossible to object to
Wikatani going without stultifying my own statements." It is only
necessary to repeat that Wikatani and Chuma had been liberated from
the slavers by Dr. Livingstone and Bishop Mackenzie in 1861; they were
mere children when set free.

We must not forget to record the fact that when Mr. Young reached
Maponda, two years afterwards, to ascertain whether the Doctor really
had been murdered, as Musa declared, he was most hospitably received
by the chief, who had by this time a great appreciation of everything
English.]

The lines of tattoo of the different tribes serve for ornaments, and
are resorted to most by the women; it is a sort of heraldry closely
resembling the Highland tartans.

[Illustration: Manganja and Machinga women (from a Drawing by the late
Dr. Meller).]

FOOTNOTES:

[16] Coal was shown to a group of natives when first the _Pioneer_
ascended the river Shiré. Members of numerous tribes were present, and
all recognised it at once as Makala or coal.--ED.

[17] Dr. Livingstone heard this subsequently when at Casembe's.

[18] The greater part were driven down into the Manganja country by
war and famine combined, and eventually filled the slave gangs of the
Portuguese, whose agents went from Tette and Senna to procure
them.--ED.

[19] Pronounced Mkata by the Waiyau.--ED.

[20] Earthquakes are by no means uncommon. A slight shock was felt in
1861 at Magomero; on asking the natives if they knew the cause of it,
they replied that on one occasion, after a very severe earthquake
which shook boulders off the mountains, all the wise men of the
country assembled to talk about it and came to the following
conclusion, that a star had fallen from heaven into the sea, and that
the bubbling caused the whole earth to rock; they said the effect was
the same as that caused by throwing, a red-hot stone into a pot of
water.--ED.

[21] The Waiyau language differs very much from the Nyassa, and is
exceedingly difficult to master: it holds good from the coast to
Nyassa, but to the west of the Lake the Nyassa tongue is spoken over a
vast tract.--ED.

[22] We shall see that more to the north the hump entirely disappears.

[23] It is very singular to witness the disgust with which the idea of
drinking milk is received by most of these tribes when we remember
that the Caffre nations on the south, and again, tribes more to the
north, subsist principally on it. A lad will undergo punishment rather
than milk a goat. Eggs are likewise steadily eschewed.--ED.

[24] To myself.--ED.




CHAPTER V.

    Crosses Cape Maclear. The havildar demoralised. The discomfited
    chief. Beaches Marenga's town. The earth-sponge. Description of
    Marenga's town. Rumours of Mazitu. Musa and the Johanna men
    desert. Beaches Kimsusa's. His delight at seeing the Doctor once
    more. The fat ram. Kimsusa relates his experience of
    Livingstone's advice. Chuma finds relatives. Kimsusa solves the
    transport difficulty nobly. Another old fishing acquaintance.
    Description of the people and country on the west of the Lake.
    The Kanthundas. Kauma. Iron-smelting. An African Sir Colin
    Campbell. Milandos.

_21st September, 1866._--We marched westwards, making across the base
of Cape Maclear. Two men employed as guides and carriers, went along
grumbling that their dignity was so outraged by working--"only fancy
Waiyau carrying like slaves!!" They went but a short distance, and
took advantage of my being in front to lay down the loads, one of
which consisted of the havildar's bed and cooking things; here they
opened the other bundle and paid themselves--the gallant havildar
sitting and looking on. He has never been of the smallest use, and
lately has pretended to mysterious pains in his feet; no swelling or
other symptom accompanied this complaint. On coming to Pima's village
he ate a whole fowl and some fish for supper, slept soundly till
daybreak, then on awaking commenced a furious groaning--"feet were so
bad." I told him that people usually moaned when insensible, but he
had kept quiet till he awaked; he sulked at this, and remained all
day, though I sent a man to carry his kit for him, and when he came
up he had changed the seat of his complaint from his feet to any part
of his abdomen. He gave off his gun-belt and pouch to the carrier.
This was a blind to me, for I examined and found that he had already
been stealing and selling his ammunition: this is all preparatory to
returning to the coast with some slave-trader. Nothing can exceed the
ease and grace with which sepoys can glide from a swagger into the
most abject begging of food from the villagers. He has remained
behind.

_22nd September, 1866._--The hills we crossed were about 700 feet above
Nyassa, generally covered with trees; no people were seen. We slept by
the brook Sikoché. Rocks of hardened sandstone rested on mica schist,
which had an efflorescence of alum on it, above this was dolomite; the
hills often capped with it and oak-spar, giving a snowy appearance. We
had a Waiyau party with us--six handsomely-attired women carried huge
pots of beer for their husbands, who very liberally invited us to
partake. After seven hours' hard travelling we came to the village,
where we spend Sunday by the torrent Usangazi, and near a remarkable
mountain, Namasi. The chief, a one-eyed man, was rather coy--coming
_incognito_ to visit us; and, as I suspected that he was present, I
asked if the chief were an old woman, afraid to look at and welcome a
stranger? All burst into a laugh, and looked at him, when he felt
forced to join in it, and asked what sort of food we liked best. Chuma
put this clear enough by saying, "He eats everything eaten by the
Waiyau." This tribe, or rather the Machinga, now supersede the
Manganja. We passed one village of the latter near this, a sad,
tumble-down affair, while the Waiyau villages are very neat, with
handsome straw or reed fences all around their huts.

_24th September, 1866._--We went only 2-1/2 miles to the village of
Marenga, a very large one, situated at the eastern edge of the bottom
of the heel of the Lake. The chief is ill of a loathsome disease
derived direct from the Arabs. Raised patches of scab of circular form
disfigure the face and neck as well as other parts. His brother begged
me to see him and administer some remedy for the same complaint. He is
at a village a little way off, and though sent for, was too ill to
come or to be carried. The tribe is of Babisa origin. Many of these
people had gone to the coast as traders, and returning with arms and
ammunition joined the Waiyau in their forays on the Manganja, and
eventually set themselves up as an independent tribe. The women do not
wear the lip-ring, though the majority of them are Waiyau. They
cultivate largely, and have plenty to eat. They have cattle, but do
not milk them.

The bogs, or earthen sponges,[25] of this country occupy a most
important part in its physical geography, and probably explain the
annual inundations of most of the rivers. Wherever a plain sloping
towards a narrow opening in hills or higher ground exists, there we
have the conditions requisite for the formation of an African sponge.
The vegetation, not being of a heathy or peat-forming kind, falls
down, rots, and then forms rich black loam. In many cases a mass of
this loam, two or three feet thick, rests on a bed of pure river sand,
which is revealed by crabs and other aquatic animals bringing it to
the surface. At present, in the dry season, the black loam is cracked
in all directions, and the cracks are often as much as three inches
wide, and very deep. The whole surface has now fallen down, and rests
on the sand, but when the rains come, the first supply is nearly all
absorbed in the sand. The black loam forms soft slush, and floats on
the sand. The narrow opening prevents it from moving off in a
landslip, but an oozing spring rises at that spot. All the pools in
the lower portion of this spring-course are filled by the first rains,
which happen south of the equator when the sun goes vertically over
any spot. The second, or greater rains, happen in his course north
again, when all the bogs and river-courses being wet, the supply runs
off, and forms the inundation: this was certainly the case as observed
on the Zambesi and Shiré, and, taking the different times for the
sun's passage north of the equator, it explains the inundation of the
Nile.

_25th September, 1866._--Marenga's town on the west shore of Lake Nyassa is
very large, and his people collected in great numbers to gaze at the
stranger. The chief's brother asked a few questions, and I took the
occasion to be a good one for telling him something about the Bible
and the future state. The men said that their fathers had never told
them aught about the soul, but they thought that the whole man rotted
and came to nothing. What I said was very nicely put by a volunteer
spokesman, who seemed to have a gift that way, for all listened most
attentively, and especially when told that our Father in heaven loved
all, and heard prayers addressed to Him.

Marenga came dressed in a red-figured silk shawl, and attended by
about ten court beauties, who spread a mat for him, then a cloth
above, and sat down as if to support him. He asked me to examine his
case inside a hut. He exhibited his loathsome skin disease, and being
blacker than his wives, the blotches with which he was covered made
him appear very ugly. He thought that the disease was in the country
before Arabs came. Another new disease acquired from them was the
small-pox.

_26th September, 1866._--An Arab passed us yesterday, his slaves going by
another route across the base of Cape Maclear. He told Musa that all
the country in front was full of Mazitu; that forty-four Arabs and
their followers had been killed by them at Kasungu, and he only
escaped. Musa and all the Johanna men now declared that they would go
no farther. Musa said, "No good country that; I want to go back to
Johanna to see my father and mother and son." I took him to Marenga,
and asked the chief about the Mazitu. He explained that the
disturbance was caused by the Manganja finding that Jumbé brought
Arabs and ammunition into the country every year, and they resented it
in consequence; they would not allow more to come, because they were
the sufferers, and their nation was getting destroyed.

I explained to Musa that we should avoid the Mazitu: Marenga added,
"There are no Mazitu near where you are going;" but Musa's eyes _stood
out_ with terror, and he said, "I no can believe that man." But I
inquired, "How can you believe the Arab so easily?" Musa answered, "I
ask him to tell me true, and he say true, true," &c.

When we started, all the Johanna men walked off, leaving the goods on
the ground. They have been such inveterate thieves that I am not sorry
to get rid of them; for though my party is now inconveniently small, I
could not trust them with flints in their guns, nor allow them to
remain behind, for their object was invariably to plunder their loads.

[Here then we have Livingstone's account of the origin of that
well-told story, which at first seemed too true. How Mr. Edward Young,
R.N., declared it to be false, and subsequently proved it untrue, is
already well known. This officer's quick voyage to Lake Nyassa
reflected the greatest credit on him, and all hearts were filled with
joy when he returned and reported the tale of Livingstone's murder to
be merely an invention of Musa and his comrades.]

I ought to mention that the stealing by the Johanna men was not the
effect of hunger; it attained its height when we had plenty. If one
remained behind, we knew his object in delaying was stealing. He gave
what he filched to the others, and Musa shared the dainties they
bought with the stolen property. When spoken to he would say, "I every
day tell Johanna men no steal Doctor's things." As he came away and
left them in the march, I insisted out his bringing up all his men;
this he did not relish, and the amount stolen was not small. One stole
fifteen pounds of fine powder, another seven, another left six
table-cloths out of about twenty-four; another called out to a man to
bring a fish, and he would buy it with beads, the beads being stolen,
and Musa knew it all and connived at it; but it was terror that drove
him away at last.

With our goods in canoes we went round the bottom of the heel of
Nyassa, slept among reeds, and next morning (27th) landed at Msangwa,
which is nearly opposite Kimsusa's, or Katosa's, as the Makololo
called him. A man had been taken off by a crocodile last night; he had
been drinking beer, and went down to the water to cool himself, where
he lay down, and the brute seized him. The water was very muddy, being
stirred up by an east wind, which lashed the waves into our canoes,
and wetted our things. The loud wail of the women is very painful to
hear; it sounds so dolefully.

_28th, September, 1866._--We reached Kinisusa's, below Mount Mulundini, of
Kirk's range.[26] The chief was absent, but he was sent for
immediately: his town has much increased since I saw it last.

_29th September, 1866._--Another Arab passed last night, with the tale that
his slaves had all been taken from him by the Mazitu. It is more
respectable to be robbed by them than by the Manganja, who are much
despised and counted nobodies. I propose to go west of this among the
Maravi until quite away beyond the disturbances, whether of Mazitu or
Manganja.

_30th September, 1866._--We enjoy our Sunday here. We have-abundance of
food from Kimsusa's wife. The chief wished me to go alone and enjoy
his drinking bout, and then we could return to this place together;
but this was not to my taste.

_1st October, 1866._--Kimsusa, or Mehusa, came this morning, and
seemed very glad again to see his old friend. He sent off at once to
bring an enormous ram, which had either killed or seriously injured a
man. The animal came tied to a pole to keep him off the man who held
it, while a lot more carried him. He was prodigiously fat;[27] this is
a true African way of showing love--plenty of fat and beer.
Accordingly the chief brought a huge basket of "pombe," the native
beer, and another of "nsima," or porridge, and a pot of cooked meat;
to these were added a large basket of maize. So much food had been
brought to us, that we had at last to explain that we could not carry
it.

[The Doctor states a fact in the next few lines which shows that the
Africans readily profit by advice which appeals to their common sense,
and we make this observation in full knowledge of similar instances.]

Kimsusa says that they felt earthquakes at the place Mponda now
occupies, but none where he is now. He confirms the tradition that the
Manganja came from the west or W.N.W. He speaks more rationally about
the Deity than some have done, and adds, that it was by following the
advice which I gave him the last time I saw him, and not selling his
people, that his village is now three times its former size. He has
another village besides, and he was desirous that I should see that
too; that was the reason he invited me to come, but the people would
come and visit me.

_2nd October, 1866._--Kimsusa made his appearance early with a huge
basket of beer, 18 inches high and 15 inches in diameter. He served it
out for a time, taking deep draughts himself, becoming extremely
loquacious in consequence. He took us to a dense thicket behind his
town, among numbers of lofty trees, many of which I have seen nowhere
else; that under which we sat bears a fruit in clusters, which is
eatable, and called "_Mbedwa_." A space had been cleared, and we were
taken to this shady spot as the one in which business of importance
and secrecy is transacted. Another enormous basket of beer was brought
here by his wives, but there was little need for it, for Kimsusa
talked incessantly, and no business was done.

_3rd October, 1866._--The chief came early, and sober. I rallied him
on his previous loquacity, and said one ought to find time in the
morning if business was to be done: he took it in good part, and one
of his wives joined in bantering him. She is _the_ wife and the mother
of the sons in whom he delights, and who will succeed him. I proposed
to him to send men with me to the Babisa country, and I would pay them
there, where they could buy ivory for him with the pay, and, bringing
it back, he would be able to purchase clothing without selling his
people. He says that his people would not bring the pay or anything
else back. When he sends to purchase ivory he gives the price to Arabs
or Babisa, and they buy for him and conduct his business honestly; but
his people, the Manganja, cannot be trusted: this shows a remarkable
state of distrust, and, from previous information, it is probably
true.

A party of the Arab Khambuiri's people went up lately to the Maravi
country above this, and immediately west of Kirk's range, to purchase
slaves: but they were attacked by the Maravi, and dispersed with
slaughter: this makes Kimsusa's people afraid to venture there. They
had some quarrel with the Maravi also of their own, and no intercourse
now took place. A path further south was followed by Mponda lately,
and great damage done, so it would not be wise to go on his footsteps.
Kimsusa said he would give me carriers to go up to the Maravi, but he
wished to be prepaid: to this I agreed, but even then he could not
prevail on anyone to go. He then sent for an old Mobisa man, who has a
village under him, and acknowledges Kimsusa's power. He says that he
fears that, should he force his Manganja to go, they would leave us on
the road, or run away on the first appearance of danger; but this
Mobisa man would be going to his own country, and would stick by us.
Meanwhile the chief overstocks us with beer and other food.

_4th October, 1866._--The Mobisa man sent for came, but was so ignorant of
his own country, not knowing the names of the chief Babisa town or any
of the rivers, that I declined his guidance. He would only have been a
clog on us; and anything about the places in front of us we could
ascertain at the villages where we touch by inquiry as well as he
could.

A woman turned up here, and persuaded Chuma that she was his aunt. He
wanted to give her at once a fathom of calico and beads, and wished me
to cut his pay down for the purpose. I persuaded him to be content
with a few beads for her. He gave her his spoon and some other
valuables, fully persuaded that she was a relative, though he was
interrogated first as to his father's name, and tribe, &c., before she
declared herself.

It shows a most forgiving disposition on the part of these boys to
make presents to those who, if genuine relations, actually sold them.
But those who have been caught young, know nothing of the evils of
slavery, and do not believe in its ills. Chuma, for instance, believes
now that he was caught and sold by the Manganja, and not by his own
Waiyau, though it was just in the opposite way that he became a slave,
and he asserted and believes that no Waiyau ever sold his own child.
When reminded that Wikatani was sold by his own father, he denied it;
then that the father of Chimwala, another boy, sold him, his mother,
and sister, he replied, "These are Machinga." This is another tribe of
Waiyau; but this showed that he was determined to justify his
countrymen at any rate. I mention this matter, because though the
Oxford and Cambridge Mission have an advantage in the instruction of
boys taken quite young from slavers, yet these same boys forget the
evils to which they were exposed and from which they were rescued, and
it is even likely that they will, like Chuma, deny that any benefit
was conferred upon them by their deliverance. This was not stated
broadly by Chuma, but his tone led one to believe that he was quite
ready to return to the former state.

_5th October, 1866._--The chief came early with an immense basket of
beer, as usual. We were ready to start: he did not relish this; but I
told him it was clear that his people set very light by his authority.
He declared that he would force them or go himself, with his wives as
carriers. This dawdling and guzzling had a bad effect on my remaining
people. Simon, a Nassick lad, for instance, overheard two words which
he understood; these were "Mazitu" and "lipululu," or desert; and from
these he conjured up a picture of Mazitu rushing out upon us from the
jungle, and killing all without giving us time to say a word! To this
he added scraps of distorted information: Khambuiri was a very bad
chief in front, &c., all showing egregious cowardice; yet he came to
give me advice. On asking what he knew (as he could not speak the
language), he replied that he heard the above two words, and that
Chuma could not translate them, but he had caught them, and came to
warn me.

The chief asked me to stay over to-day, and he would go with his wives
to-morrow; I was his friend, and he would not see me in difficulties
without doing his utmost. He says that there is no danger of our not
finding people for carrying loads. It is probable that Khambuiri's
people went as marauders, and were beaten off in consequence.

_6th October, 1866._--We marched about seven miles to the north to a
village opposite the pass Tapiri, and on a rivulet, Godedza. It was
very hot. Kimsusa behaves like a king: his strapping wives came to
carry loads, and shame his people. Many of the young men turned out
and took the loads, but it was evident that they feared retaliation if
they ventured up the pass. One wife carried beer, another meal; and as
soon as we arrived, cooking commenced: porridge and roasted goat's
flesh made a decent meal. A preparation of meal called "Toku" is very
refreshing and brings out all the sugary matter in the grain: he gave
me some in the way, and, seeing I liked it, a calabash full was
prepared for me in the evening. Kimsusa delights in showing me to his
people as his friend. If I could have used his pombe, or beer, it
would have put some fat on my bones, but it requires a strong
digestion; many of the chiefs and their wives live on it almost
entirely. A little flesh is necessary to relieve the acidity it
causes; and they keep all flesh very carefully, no matter how high it
may become: drying it on a stage over a fire prevents entire
putridity.

_7th October, 1866._--I heard hooping-cough[28] in the village. We
found our visitors so disagreeable that I was glad to march; they were
Waiyau, and very impudent, demanding gun or game medicine to enable
them to shoot well: they came into the hut uninvited, and would take
no denial. It is probable that the Arabs drive a trade in gun
medicine: it is inserted in cuts made above the thumb, and on the
forearm. Their superciliousness shows that they feel themselves to be
the dominant race. The Manganja trust to their old bows and arrows;
they are much more civil than Ajawa or Waiyau.

[The difference between these two great races is here well worthy of
the further notice which Livingstone no doubt would have given it. As
a rule, the Manganja are extremely clever in all the savage arts and
manufactures. Their looms turn out a strong serviceable cotton cloth;
their iron weapons and implements show a taste for design which is not
reached by the neighbouring tribes, and in all matters that relate to
husbandry they excel: but in dash and courage they are deficient. The
Waiyau, on the contrary, have round apple-shaped heads, as
distinguished from the long well-shaped heads of the poor Manganja;
they are jocular and merry, given to travelling, and bold in
war--these are qualities which serve them well as they are driven from
pillar to post through slave wars and internal dissension, but they
have not the brains of the Manganja, nor the talent to make their mark
in any direction where brains are wanted.]

A Manganja man, who formerly presented us with the whole haul of his
net, came and gave me four fowls: some really delight in showing
kindness. When we came near the bottom of the pass Tapiri, Kimsusa's
men became loud against his venturing further; he listened, then burst
away from them: he listened again, then did the same; and as he had
now got men for us, I thought it better to let him go.

In three hours and a quarter we had made a clear ascent of 2200 feet
above the Lake. The first persons we met were two men and a boy, who
were out hunting with a dog and basket-trap. This is laid down in the
run of some small animal; the dog chases it, and it goes into the
basket which is made of split bamboo, and has prongs looking inwards,
which prevent its egress: mouse traps are made in the same fashion. I
suspected that the younger of the men had other game in view, and
meant, if fit opportunity offered, to insert an arrow in a Waiyau, who
was taking away his wife as a slave. He told me before we had gained
the top of the ascent that some Waiyau came to a village, separated
from his by a small valley, picked a quarrel with the inhabitants, and
then went and took the wife and child of a poorer countryman to pay
these pretended offences.

_8th October, 1866._--At the first village we found that the people up
here and those down below were mutually afraid of each other. Kimsusa
came to the bottom of the range, his last act being the offer of a pot
of beer, and a calabash of Toku, which latter was accepted. I paid his
wives for carrying our things: they had done well, and after we gained
the village where we slept, sang and clapped their hands vigorously
till one o'clock in the morning, when I advised them to go to sleep.
The men he at last provided were very faithful and easily satisfied.
Here we found the headman, Kawa, of Mpalapala, quite as hospitable. In
addition to providing a supper, it is the custom to give breakfast
before starting. Resting on the 8th to make up for the loss of rest on
Sunday; we marched on Tuesday (the 9th), but were soon brought to a
stand by Gombwa, whose village, Tamiala, stands on another ridge.

Gombwa, a laughing, good-natured man, said that he had sent for all
his people to see me; and I ought to sleep, to enable them to look on
one the like of whom had never come their way before. Intending to go
on, I explained some of my objects in coming through the country,
advising the people to refrain from selling each other, as it ends in
war and depopulation. He was cunning, and said, "Well, you must sleep
here, and all my people will come and hear those words of peace." I
explained that I had employed carriers, who expected to be paid though
I had gone but a small part of a day; he replied, "But they will go
home and come again to-morrow, and it will count but one day:" I was
thus constrained to remain.

_9th October, 1866._--Both barometer and boiling-point showed an
altitude of upwards of 4000 feet above the sea. This is the hottest
month, but the air is delightfully clear, and delicious. The country
is very fine, lying in long slopes, with mountains rising all around,
from 2000 to 3000 feet above this upland. They are mostly jagged and
rough (not rounded like those near to Mataka's): the long slopes are
nearly denuded of trees, and the patches of cultivation are so large
and often squarish in form, that but little imagination is requisite
to transform the whole into the cultivated fields of England; but no
hedgerows exist. The trees are in clumps on the tops of the ridges, or
at the villages, or at the places of sepulture. Just now the young
leaves are out, but are not yet green. In some lights they look brown,
but with transmitted light, or when one is near them, crimson
prevails. A yellowish-green is met sometimes in the young leaves, and
brown, pink, and orange-red. The soil is rich, but the grass is only
excessively rank in spots; in general it is short. A kind of trenching
of the ground is resorted to; they hoe deep, and draw it well to
themselves: this exposes the other earth to the hoe. The soil is
burned too: the grass and weeds are placed in flat heaps, and soil
placed over them: the burning is slow, and most of the products of
combustion are retained to fatten the field; in this way the people
raise large crops. Men and women and children engage in field labour,
but at present many of the men are engaged in spinning buazé[29] and
cotton. The former is made into a coarse sacking-looking stuff,
immensely strong, which seems to be worn by the women alone; the men
are clad in uncomfortable goatskins. No wild animals seem to be in the
country, and indeed the population is so large they would have very
unsettled times of it. At every turning we meet people, or see their
villages; all armed with bows and arrows. The bows are unusually long:
I measured one made of bamboo, and found that along the bowstring it
measured six feet four inches. Many carry large knives of fine iron;
and indeed the metal is abundant. Young men and women wear the hair
long, a mass of small ringlets comes down and rests on the shoulders,
giving them the appearance of the ancient Egyptians. One side is often
cultivated, and the mass hangs jauntily on that side; some few have a
solid cap of it. Not many women wear the lip-ring: the example of the
Waiyau has prevailed so far; but some of the young women have raised
lines crossing each other on the arms, which must have cost great
pain: they have also small cuts, covering in some cases the whole
body. The Maravi or Manganja here may be said to be in their primitive
state. We find them very liberal with their food: we give a cloth to
the headman of the village where we pass the night, and he gives a
goat, or at least cooked fowls and porridge, at night and morning.

[Illustration: Tattoo on Women.]

We were invited by Gombwa in the afternoon to speak the same words to
his people that we used to himself in the morning. He nudged a boy to
respond, which is considered polite, though he did it only with a
rough hem! at the end of each sentence. As for our general discourse
we mention our relationship to our Father: His love to all His
children--the guilt of selling any of His children--the consequence;
_e.g._ it begets war, for they don't like to sell their own, and steal
from other villagers, who retaliate. Arabs and Waiyau invited into the
country by their selling, foster feuds, and war and depopulation
ensue. We mention the Bible--future state--prayer: advise union, that
they should unite as one family to expel enemies, who came first as
slave-traders, and ended by leaving the country a wilderness. In
reference to union, we showed that they ought to have seen justice
done to the man who lost his wife and child at their very doors; but
this want of cohesion is the bane of the Manganja. If the evil does
not affect themselves they don't care whom it injures; and Gombwa
confirmed this, by saying that when he routed Khambuiri's people, the
villagers west of him fled instead of coming to his aid.

We hear that many of the Manganja up here are fugitives from Nyassa.

_10th October, 1866._--Kawa and his people were with us early this
morning, and we started from Tamiala with them. The weather is lovely,
and the scenery, though at present tinged with yellow from the grass,
might be called glorious. The bright sun and delicious air are quite
exhilarating. We passed a fine flowing rivulet, called Levizé, going
into the Lake, and many smaller runnels of delicious cold water. On
resting by a dark sepulchral grove, a tree attracted the attention, as
nowhere else seen: it is called Bokonto, and said to bear eatable
fruit. Many fine flowers were just bursting into full blossom. After
about four hours' march we put up at Chitimba, the village of
Kañgomba, and were introduced by Kawa, who came all the way for the
purpose.

_11th October, 1866._--A very cold morning, with a great bank of black
clouds in the east, whence the wind came. Therm. 59°; in hut 69°. The
huts are built very well. The roof, with the lower part plastered, is
formed so as not to admit a ray of light, and the only visible mode of
ingress for it is by the door. This case shows that winter is cold: on
proposing to start, breakfast was not ready: then a plan was formed to
keep me another day at a village close by, belonging to one Kulu, a
man of Kauma, to whom we go next. It was effectual, and here we are
detained another day. A curiously cut-out stool is in my hut, made by
the Mkwisa, who are south-west of this: it is of one block, but
hollowed out, and all the spaces indicated are hollow too: about 2-1/2
feet long by 1-1/2 foot high.

[Illustration: Curiously cut-out stool of one block of wood hollowed
out.]

_12th October, 1866._--We march westerly, with a good deal of
southing. Kulu gave us a goat, and cooked liberally for us all. He set
off with us as if to go to Kauma's in our company, but after we had
gone a couple of miles he slipped behind, and ran away. Some are
naturally mean, and some naturally noble: the mean cannot help showing
their nature, nor can the noble; but the noble-hearted must enjoy life
most. Kulu got a cloth, and he gave us at least its value; but he
thought he had got more than he gave, and so by running away that he
had done us nicely, without troubling himself to go and introduce us
to Kauma. I usually request a headman of a village to go with us. They
give a good report of us, if for no other reason than for their own
credit, because no one likes to be thought giving his countenance to
people other than respectable, and it costs little.

We came close to the foot of several squarish mountains, having
perpendicular sides. One, called "Ulazo pa Malungo," is used by the
people, whose villages cluster round its base as a storehouse for
grain. Large granaries stand on its top, containing food to be used in
case of war. A large cow is kept up there, which is supposed capable
of knowing and letting the owners know when war is coming.[30] There
is a path up, but it was not visible to us. The people are all
Kanthunda, or climbers, not Maravi. Kimsusa said that he was the only
Maravi chief, but this I took to be an ebullition of beer bragging:
the natives up here, however, confirm this, and assert that they are
not Maravi, who are known by having markings down the side of the
face.

We spent the night at a Kanthunda village on the western side of a
mountain called Phunzé (the _h_ being an aspirate only). Many villages
are planted round its base, but in front, that is, westwards, we have
plains, and there the villages are as numerous: mostly they are within
half a mile of each other, and few are a mile from other hamlets. Each
village has a clump of trees around it: this is partly for shade and
partly for privacy from motives of decency. The heat of the sun causes
the effluvia to exhale quickly, so they are seldom offensive. The rest
of the country, where not cultivated, is covered with grass, the
seed-stalks about knee deep. It is gently undulating, lying in low
waves, stretching N.E. and S.W. The space between each wave is usually
occupied by a boggy spot or watercourse, which in some cases is filled
with pools with trickling rills between. All the people are engaged
at present in making mounds six or eight feet square, and from two to
three feet high. The sods in places not before hoed are separated from
the soil beneath and collected into flattened heaps, the grass
undermost; when dried, fire is applied and slow combustion goes on,
most of the products of the burning being retained in the ground, much
of the soil is incinerated. The final preparation is effected by the
men digging up the subsoil round the mound, passing each hoeful into
the left hand, where it pulverizes, and is then thrown on to the heap.
It is thus virgin soil on the top of the ashes and burned ground of
the original heap, very clear of weeds. At present many mounds have
beans and maize about four inches high. Holes, a foot in diameter and
a few inches deep, are made irregularly over the surface of the mound,
and about eight or ten grains put into each: these are watered by hand
and calabash, and kept growing till the rains set in, when a very
early crop is secured.

_13th October, 1866._--After leaving Phunzé, we crossed the Leviñgé, a
rivulet which flows northwards, and then into Lake Nyassa; the lines
of gentle undulation tend in that direction. Some hills appear on the
plains, but after the mountains which we have left behind they are
mere mounds. We are over 3000 feet above the sea, and the air is
delicious; but we often pass spots covered with a plant which grows in
marshy places, and its heavy smell always puts me in mind that at
other seasons this may not be so pleasant a residence. The fact of
even maize being planted on mounds where the ground is naturally quite
dry, tells a tale of abundant humidity of climate.

Kauma, a fine tall man, with a bald head and pleasant manners, told us
that some of his people had lately returned from the Chibisa or Babisa
country, whither they had gone to buy ivory, and they would give me
information about the path. He took a fancy to one of the boys'
blankets; offering a native cloth, much larger, in exchange, and even
a sheep to boot; but the owner being unwilling to part with his
covering, Kauma told me that he had not sent for his Babisa travellers
on account of my boy refusing to deal with him. A little childish
this, but otherwise he was very hospitable; he gave me a fine goat,
which, unfortunately, my people left behind.

The chief said that no Arabs ever came his way, nor Portuguese native
traders. When advising them to avoid the first attempts to begin the
slave-trade, as it would inevitably lead to war and depopulation,
Kauma replied that the chiefs had resolved to unite against the Waiyau
of Mpondé should he come again on a foray up to the highlands; but
they are like a rope of sand, there is no cohesion among them, and
each village is nearly independent of every other: they mutually
distrust each other.

_14th October, 1866._--Spent Sunday here. Kauma says that his people
are partly Kanthunda and partly Chipéta. The first are the
mountaineers, the second dwellers on the plains. The Chipéta have many
lines of marking: they are all only divisions of the great Manganja
tribe, and their dialects differ very slightly from that spoken by the
same people on the Shiré. The population is very great and very
ceremonious. When we meet anyone he turns aside and sits down: we clap
the hand on the chest and say, "Re peta--re peta," that is, "we pass,"
or "let us pass:" this is responded to at once by a clapping of the
hands together. When a person is called at a distance he gives two
loud claps of assent; or if he rises from near a superior he does, the
same thing, which is a sort of leave-taking.

We have to ask who are the principal chiefs in the direction which we
wish to take, and decide accordingly. Zomba was pointed out as a chief
on a range of hills on our west: beyond him lies Undi m'senga. I had
to take this route, as my people have a very vivid idea of the danger
of going northwards towards the Mazitu. We made more southing than we
wished. One day beyond Zomba and W.S.W. is the part called Chindando,
where the Portuguese formerly went for gold. They don't seem to have
felt it worth while to come here, as neither ivory nor gold could be
obtained if they did. The country is too full of people to allow any
wild animals elbow-room: even the smaller animals are hunted down by
means of nets and dogs.

We rested at Pachoma; the headman offering a goat and beer, but I
declined, and went on to Molomba. Here Kauma's carriers turned because
a woman had died that morning as we left the village. They asserted
that had she died before we started not a man would have left: this
shows a reverence for death, for the woman was no relative of any of
them. The headman of Molomba was very poor but very liberal, cooking
for us and presenting a goat: another headman from a neighbouring
village, a laughing, good-natured old man, named Chikala, brought beer
and a fowl in the morning. I asked him to go on with us to Mironga, it
being important, as above-mentioned, to have the like of his kind in
our company, and he consented. We saw Mount Ngala in the distance,
like a large sugar-loaf shot up in the air: in our former route to
Kasungu we passed north of it.

_16th October, 1866._--Crossed the rivulet Chikuyo going N. for the
Lake, and Mironga being but one-and-a-half hour off, we went on to
Chipanga: this is the proper name of what on the Zambesi is corrupted
into Shupanga. The headman, a miserable hemp-consuming[31] leper, fled
from us. We were offered a miserable hut, which we refused, Chikala
meanwhile went through the whole village seeking a better, which we
ultimately found: it was not in this chief to be generous, though
Chikala did what he could in trying to indoctrinate him: when I gave
him a present he immediately proposed to _sell_ a goat! We get on
pretty well however.

Zomha is in a range of hills to our west, called Zala nyama. The
Portuguese, in going to Casembe, went still further west than this.

Passing on we came to a smithy, and watched the founder at work
drawing off slag from the bottom of his furnace. He broke through the
hardened slag by striking it with an iron instrument inserted in the
end of a pole, when the material flowed out of the small hole left for
the purpose in the bottom of the furnace. The ore (probably the black
oxide) was like sand, and was put in at the top of the furnace, mixed
with charcoal. Only one bellows was at work, formed out of a goatskin,
and the blast was very poor. Many of these furnaces, or their remains,
are met with on knolls; those at work have a peculiarly tall hut built
over them.

On the eastern edge of a valley lying north and south, with the
Diampwé stream flowing along it, and the Dzala nyama range on the
western side, are two villages screened by fine specimens of the
_Ficus Indica_. One of these is owned by the headman Theresa, and
there we spent the night. We made very short marches, for the sun is
very powerful, and the soil baked hard, is sore on the feet: no want
of water, however, is felt, for we come to supplies every mile or two.

The people look very poor, having few or no beads; the ornaments being
lines and cuttings on the skin. They trust more to buazé than cotton.
I noticed but two cotton patches. The women are decidedly plain; but
monopolize all the buazé cloth. Theresa was excessively liberal, and
having informed us that Zomba lived some distance up the range and was
not the principal man in these parts, we, to avoid climbing the hills,
turned away to the north, in the direction of the paramount chief,
Chisumpi, whom we found to be only traditionally great.

_20th October, 1866._--In passing along we came to a village embowered
in fine trees; the headman is Kaveta, a really fine specimen of the
Kanthunda, tall, well-made, with a fine forehead and Assyrian nose. He
proposed to us to remain over night with him, and I unluckily
declined.

Convoying us out a mile, we parted with this gentleman, and then came
to a smith's village, where the same invitation was given and refused.
A sort of infatuation drove us on, and after a long hot march we found
the great Chisumpi, the facsimile in black of Sir Colin Campbell; his
nose, mouth, and the numerous wrinkles on his face were identical with
those of the great General, but here all resemblance ceased. Two men
had preceded us to give information, and when I followed I saw that
his village was one of squalid misery, the only fine things about
being the lofty trees in which it lay. Chisumpi begged me to sleep at
a village about half a mile behind: his son was browbeating him on
some domestic affair, and the older man implored me to go. Next
morning he came early to that village, and arranged for our departure,
offering nothing, and apparently not wishing to see us at all. I
suspect that though paramount chief, he is weak-minded, and has lost
thereby all his influence, but in the people's eyes he is still a
great one.

Several of my men exhibiting symptoms of distress, I inquired for a
village in which we could rest Saturday and Sunday, and at a distance
from Chisumpi. A headman volunteered to lead us to one west of this.
In passing the sepulchral grove of Chisumpi our guide remarked,
"Chisumpi's forefathers sleep there." This was the first time I have
heard the word "sleep" applied to death in these parts. The trees in
these groves, and around many of the villages, are very large, and
show what the country would become if depopulated.

We crossed the Diampwé or Adiampwé, from five to fifteen yards wide,
and well supplied with water even now. It rises near the Ndomo
mountains, and flows northwards into the Lintipé and Lake. We found
Chitokola's village, called Paritala, a pleasant one on the east side
of the Adiampwé Valley. Many elephants and other animals feed in the
valley, and we saw the Bechuana Hopo[32] again after many years.

The Ambarré, otherwise Nyumbo plant, has a pea-shaped, or rather
papilionaceous flower, with a fine scent. It seems to grow quite wild;
its flowers are yellow.

Chaola is the poison used by the Maravi for their arrows, it is said
to cause mortification.

One of the wonders usually told of us in this upland region is that we
sleep without fire. The boys' blankets suffice for warmth during the
night, when the thermometer sinks to 64°-60°, but no one else has
covering sufficient; some huts in process of building here show that a
thick coating of plaster is put on outside the roof before the grass
thatch is applied; not a chink is left for the admission of air.

Ohitikola was absent from Paritala when we arrived on some _milando_
or other. These _milandos_ are the business of their lives. They are
like petty lawsuits; if one trespasses on his neighbour's rights in
any way it is a _milando_, and the headmen of all the villages about
are called on to settle it. Women are a fruitful source of _milando_.
A few ears of Indian corn had been taken by a person, and Chitikola
had been called a full day's journey off to settle this _milando_. He
administered _Muavé_[33] and the person vomited, therefore innocence
was clearly established! He came in the evening of the 21st footsore
and tired, and at once gave us some beer. This perpetual reference to
food and drink is natural, inasmuch as it is the most important point
in our intercourse. While the chief was absent we got nothing; the
queen even begged a little meat for her child, who was recovering from
an attack of small-pox. There being no shops we had to sit still
without food. I took observations for longitude, and whiled away the
time by calculating the lunars. Next day the chief gave us a goat
cooked whole and plenty of porridge: I noticed that he too had the
Assyrian type of face.

FOOTNOTES:

[25] Dr. Livingstone's description of the "Sponge" will stand the
reader in good stead when he comes to the constant mention of these
obstructions in the later travels towards the north.--ED.

[26] So named when Dr. Livingstone, Dr. Kirk, and Mr. Charles
Livingstone, discovered Lake Nyassa together.

[27] The sheep are of the black-haired variety: their tails grow to an
enormous size. A rain which came from Nunkajowa, a Waiyau chief, on a
former occasion, was found to have a tail weighing 11 lbs.; but for
the journey, and two or three days short commons, an extra 2 or 3 lbs.
of fat «would have been on it.--ED.

[28] This complaint has not been reported as an African disease
before; it probably clings to the higher levels.--ED.

[29] A fine fibre derived from the shoots of a shrub (_Securidaca
Longipedunculata_).

[30] Several superstitions of this nature seem to point to a remnant
of the old heathen ritual, and the worship of gods in mountain groves.

[31] Hemp = bangé is smoked throughout Central Africa, and if used in
excess produces partial imbecility.--ED.

[32] The Hopo is a funnel-shaped fence which encloses a considerable
tract of country: a "drive" is organised, and animals of all
descriptions are urged on till they become jammed together in the neck
of the hopo, where they are speared to death or else destroyed in a
number of pitfalls placed there for the purpose.

[33] The ordeal poison.




CHAPTER VI.

    Progress northwards. An African forest. Destruction by Mazitu.
    Native salutations. A disagreeable chief. On the watershed
    between the Lake and the Loangwa River. Extensive iron-workings.
    An old Nimrod. The Bua Eiver. Lovely scenery. Difficulties of
    transport. Chilobé. An African Pythoness. Enlists two Waiyou
    bearers. Ill. The Chitella bean. Rains set in. Arrives at the
    Loangwa.


We started with Chitikola as our guide on the 22nd of October, and he
led us away westwards across the Lilongwé River, then turned north
till we came to a village called Mashumba, the headman of which was
the only chief who begged anything except medicine, and he got less
than we were in the habit of giving in consequence: we give a cloth
usually, and clothing being very scarce this is considered
munificent.[34]

We had the Zalanyama range on our left, and our course was generally
north, but we had to go in the direction of the villages which were on
friendly terms with our guides, and sometimes we went but a little
way, as they studied to make the days as short as possible. The
headman of the last village, Chitoku, was with us, and he took us to a
village of smiths, four furnaces and one smithy being at work. We
crossed the Chiniambo, a strong river coming from Zalanyama and
flowing into the Mirongwé, which again goes into Lintipé. The country
near the hills becomes covered with forest, the trees are chiefly
Masuko Mochenga (the gum-copal tree), the bark-cloth tree and
rhododendrons. The heath known at the Cape as _Rhinoster bosch_ occurs
frequently, and occasionally we have thorny acacias. The grass is
short, but there is plenty of it.

_24th October, 1866._--Our guide, Mpanda, led us through the forest by
what he meant to be a short cut to Chimuna's. We came on a herd of
about fifteen elephants, and many trees laid down by these animals:
they seem to relish the roots of some kinds, and spend a good deal of
time digging them up; they chew woody roots and branches as thick as
the handle of a spade. Many buffaloes feed here, and we viewed a herd
of elands; they kept out of bow-shot only: a herd of the baama or
hartebeest stood at 200 paces, and one was shot.

While all were rejoicing over the meat we got news, from the
inhabitants of a large village in full flight, that the Mazitu were
out on a foray. While roasting and eating meat I went forward with
Mpanda to get men from Chimuna to carry the rest, but was soon
recalled. Another crowd were also in full retreat; the people were
running straight to the Zalanyama range regardless of their feet,
making a path for themselves through the forest; they had escaped from
the Mazitu that morning; "they saw them!" Mpanda's people wished to
leave and go to look after their own village, but we persuaded them,
on pain of a _milando_, to take us to the nearest village, that was at
the bottom of Zalanyama proper, and we took the spoor of the
fugitives. The hard grass with stalks nearly as thick as quills must
have hurt their feet sorely, but what of that in comparison with dear
life! We meant to take our stand on the hill and defend our property
in case of the Mazitu coming near; and we should, in the event of
being successful, be a defence to the fugitives who crowded up its
rocky sides, but next morning we heard that the enemy had gone to the
south. Had we gone forward, as we intended, to search for men to
carry the meat we should have met the marauders, for the men of the
second party of villagers had remained behind guarding their village
till the Mazitu arrived, and they told us what a near escape I had had
from walking into their power.

_25th October, 1866._--Came along northwards to Chimuna's town, a
large one of Chipéta with many villages around. Our path led through
the forest, and as we emerged into the open strath in which the
villages lie, we saw the large anthills, each the size of the end of a
one-storied cottage, covered with men on guard watching for the
Mazitu.

A long line of villagers were just arriving from the south, and we
could see at some low hills in that direction the smoke arising from
the burning settlements. None but men were present, the women and the
chief were at the mountain called Pambé; all were fully armed with
their long bows, some flat in the bow, others round, and it was common
to have the quiver on the back, and a bunch of feathers stuck in the
hair like those in our Lancers' shakos. But they remained not to
fight, but to watch their homes and stores of grain from robbers
amongst their own people in case no Mazitu came! They gave a good hut,
and sent off at once to let the chief at Pambé know of our arrival. We
heard the cocks crowing up there in the mountain as we passed in the
morning. Chimuna came in the evening, and begged me to remain a day in
his village, Pamaloa, as he was the greatest chief the Chipéta had. I
told him all wished the same thing, and if I listened to each chief we
should never get on, and the rains were near, but we had to stay over
with him.

_26th October, 1866._--All the people came down to-day from Pambé, and
crowded to see the strangers. They know very little beyond their own
affairs, though these require a good deal of knowledge, and we should
be sorely put about if, without their skill, we had to maintain an
existence here. Their furnaces are rather bottle shaped, and about
seven feet high by three broad. One toothless patriarch had heard of
books and umbrellas, but had never seen either. The oldest inhabitant
had never travelled far from the spot in which he was born, yet he has
a good knowledge of soils and agriculture, hut-building,
basket-making, pottery, and the manufacture of bark-cloth and skins
for clothing, as also making of nets, traps, and cordage.

Chimuna had a most ungainly countenance, yet did well enough: he was
very thankful for a blister on his loins to ease rheumatic pains, and
presented a huge basket of porridge before starting, with a fowl, and
asked me to fire a gun that the Mazitu might hear and know that armed
men were here. They all say that these marauders flee from fire-arms,
so I think that they are not Zulus at all, though adopting some of
their ways.

In going on to Mapuio's we passed several large villages, each
surrounded by the usual euphorbia hedge, and having large trees for
shade. We are on & level, or rather gently amdulating country, rather
bare of trees. At the junctions of these earthen waves we have always
an oozing bog, this often occurs in the slope down the trough of this
terrestrial sea; bushes are common, and of the kind which were cut
down as trees. Yellow haematite is very abundant, but the other rocks
scarcely appear in the distance; we have mountains both on the east
and west.

On arriving at Mapuio's village, he was, as often happens, invisible,
but he sent us a calabash of fresh-made beer, which is very
refreshing, gave us a hut, and promised to cook for us in the evening.
We have to employ five or six carriers, and they rule the length of
the day's march. Those from Chimuna's village growled at the cubit of
calico with which we paid them, but a few beads pleased them
perfectly, and we parted good friends. It is not likely I shall ever
see them again, but I always like to please them, because it is right
to consider their desires. Is that not what is meant in "Blessed is he
that considereth the poor"? There is a great deal of good in these
poor people. In cases of _milando_ they rely on the most distant
relations and connections to plead their cause, and seldom are they
disappointed, though time at certain seasons, as for instance at
present, is felt by all to be precious. Every man appears with hoe or
axe on shoulder, and the people often only sit down as we pass and
gaze at us till we are out of sight.

[Illustration: Women's Teeth hollowed.]

Many of the men have large slits in the lobe of the ear, and they have
their distinctive tribal tattoo. The women indulge in this painful
luxury more than the men, probably because they have very few
ornaments. The two central front teeth are hollowed at the cutting
edge. Many have quite the Grecian facial angle. Mapuio has thin legs
and quite a European face. Delicate features and limbs are common, and
the spur-heel is as scarce as among Europeans; small feet and hands
are the rule.

Clapping the hands in various ways is the polite way of saying "Allow
me," "I beg pardon," "Permit me to pass," "Thanks," it is resorted to
in respectful introduction and leave-taking, and also is equivalent to
"Hear hear." When inferiors are called they respond by two brisk claps
of the hands, meaning "I am coming." They are very punctilious amongst
each other. A large ivory bracelet marks the headman of a village;
there is nothing else to show differences of rank.

_28th October, 1866._--We spent Sunday at Mapuio's and had a long talk
with him; his country is in a poor state from the continual incursions
of the Mazitu, who are wholly unchecked.

_29th October, 1866._--We marched westwards to Makosa's village, and
could not go further, as the next stage is long and through an
ill-peopled country. The morning was lovely, the whole country bathed
in bright sunlight, and not a breath of air disturbed the smoke as it
slowly curled up from the heaps of burning weeds, which the native
agriculturist wisely destroys. The people generally were busy hoeing
in the cool of the day. One old man in a village where we rested had
trained the little hair he had left into a tail, which, well plastered
with fat, he had bent on itself and laid flat on his crown; another
was carefully paring a stick for stirring the porridge, and others
were enjoying the cool shade of the wild fig-trees which are always
planted at villages. It is a sacred tree all over Africa and India,
and the tender roots which drop down towards the ground are used as
medicine--a universal remedy. Can it be a tradition of its being like
the tree of life, which Archbishop Whately conjectures may have been
used in Paradise to render man immortal? One kind of fig-tree is often
seen hacked all over to get the sap, which is used as bird-lime;
bark-cloth is made of it too. I like to see the men weaving or
spinning, or reclining under these glorious canopies, as much as I
love to see our more civilized people lolling on their sofas or
ottomans.

The first rain--a thunder shower--fell in the afternoon, air in shade
before it 92°; wet bulb 74°. At noon the soil in the sun was 140°,
perhaps more, but I was afraid of bursting the thermometer, as it was
graduated only a few degrees above that. This rain happened at the
same time that the sun was directly overhead on his way south; it was
but a quarter of an inch, but its effect was to deprive us of all
chance of getting the five carriers we needed, all were off to their
gardens to commit the precious seed to the soil. We got three, but no
one else would come, so we have to remain here over to-day (30th
October).

_30th October, 1866._--The black traders come from Tette to this
country to buy slaves, and as a consequence here we come to bugs
again, which we left when we passed the Arab slave-traders' beat.

_31st October, 1866._--We proceed westwards, and a little south
through a country covered with forest trees, thickly planted, but
small, generally of bark-cloth and gum-copal trees, masukos,
rhododendrons, and a few acacias. At one place we saw ten wild hogs in
a group, but no other animal, though marks of elephants, buffaloes,
and other animals having been about in the wet season were very
abundant. The first few miles were rather more scant of water than
usual, but we came to the Leué, a fine little stream with plenty of
water sand from 20 to 30 yards wide; it is said by the people to flow
away westwards into the Loangwa.

_1st November 1866._--In the evening we made the Chigumokiré, a nice
rivulet, where we slept, and the next morning we proceeded to Kangené,
whose village is situated on a mass of mountains, and to reach which
we made more southing than we wished. Our appearance on the ascent of
the hill caused alarm, and we were desired to wait till our spokesman
had explained the unusual phenomenon of a white man.

This kept us waiting in the hot sun among heated rocks, and the chief,
being a great ugly public-house-keeper looking person, excused his
incivility by saying that his brother had been killed by the Mazitu,
and he was afraid that we were of the same tribe. On asking if Mazitu
wore clothes like us he told some untruths, and, what has been an
unusual thing, began to beg powder and other things. I told him how
other chiefs had treated us, which made him ashamed. He represented
the country in front to the N.W. to be quite impassable from want of
food: the Mazitu had stripped it of all provisions, and the people
were living on what wild fruits they could pick up.

_2nd November, 1866._--Kangené is very disagreeable naturally, and as
we have to employ five men as carriers, we are in his power.

We can scarcely enter into the feelings of those who are harried by
marauders. Like Scotland in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries
harassed by Highland Celts on one side and by English Marchmen on the
other, and thus kept in the rearward of civilisation, these people
have rest neither for many days nor for few. When they fill their
garners they can seldom reckon on eating the grain, for the Mazitu
come when the harvest is over and catch as many able-bodied young
persons as they can to carry away the corn. Thus it was in Scotland so
far as security for life and property was concerned; but the Scotch
were apt pupils of more fortunate nations. To change of country they
were as indifferent as the Romans of the olden times; they were always
welcome in France, either as pilgrims, scholars, merchants, or
soldiers; but the African is different. If let alone the African's
mode of life is rather enjoyable; he loves agriculture, and land is to
be had anywhere. He knows nothing of other countries, but he has
imbibed the idea of property in man. This Kangené told me that he
would like to give me a slave to look after my goats: I believe he
would rather give a slave than a goat!

We were detained by the illness of Simon for four days. When he
recovered we proposed to the headman to start with five of his men,
and he agreed to let us have them; but having called them together
such an enormous demand was made for wages, and in advance, that on
the 7th of November we took seven loads forward through a level
uninhabited country generally covered with small trees, slept there,
and on the morning of the 8th, after leaving two men at our depôt,
came back, and took the remaining five loads.

Kangené was disagreeable to the last. He asked where we had gone,
and, having described the turning point as near the hill Chimbimbé, he
complimented us on going so far, and then sent an offer of three men;
but I preferred not to have those who would have been spies unless he
could give five and take on all the loads. He said that he would find
the number, and after detaining us some hours brought two, one of
whom, primed with beer, babbled out that he was afraid of being killed
by us in front. I asked whom we had killed behind, and moved off. The
headman is very childish, does women's work--cooking and pounding; and
in all cases of that kind the people take after their leader. The
chiefs have scarcely any power unless they are men of energy; they
have to court the people rather than be courted. We came much further
back on our way from Mapuio's than we liked; in fact, our course is
like that of a vessel baffled with foul winds: this is mainly owing to
being obliged to avoid places stripped of provisions or suffering this
spoliation. The people, too, can give no information about others at a
distance from their own abodes. Even the smiths, who are a most
plodding set of workers, are as ignorant as the others: they supply
the surrounding villages with hoes and knives, and, combining
agriculture with handicraft, pass through life. An intelligent smith
came as our guide from Chimbimbé Hill on the 7th, and did not know a
range of mountains about twenty miles off: "it was too far off for him
to know the name."

_9th November, 1866._--The country over which we actually travel is
level and elevated, but there are mountains all about, which when put
on the map make it appear to be a mountainous region. We are on the
watershed, apparently between the Loangwa of Zumbo on the west, and
the Lake on the east. The Leué or Leuia is said by the people to flow
into the Loangwa. The Chigumokiré coming from the north in front,
eastward of Irongwé (the same mountains on which Kangené skulks out of
sight of Mazitu), flows into the Leué, and north of that we have the
Mando, a little stream, flowing into the Bua. The rivulets on the west
flow in deep defiles, and the elevation on which we travel makes it
certain that no water can come from the lower lands on the west. It
seems that the Portuguese in travelling to Casembe did not inquire of
the people where the streams they crossed went, for they are often
wrongly put, and indicate the direction only in which they appeared to
be flowing at their crossing places. The natives have a good idea
generally of the rivers into which the streams flow, though they are
very deficient in information as to the condition of the people that
live on their banks. Some of the Portuguese questions must have been
asked through slaves, who would show no hesitation in answering.
Maxinga, or Machinga, means "mountains" only; once or twice it is put
down Saxa de Maxinga, or Machinga, or Mcanga, which translated from
the native tongue means "rocks of mountains, or mountains of rocks."

_10th November, 1866._--We found the people on the Mando to be Chawa
or Ajawa, but not of the Waiyau race: they are Manganja, and this is a
village of smiths. We got five men readily to go back and bring up our
loads; and the sound of the hammer is constant, showing a great deal
of industry. They combine agriculture, and hunting with nets, with
their handicraft.

A herd of buffaloes came near the village, and I went and shot one,
thus procuring a supply of meat for the whole party and villagers too.
The hammer which we hear from dawn till sunset is a large stone, bound
with the strong inner bark of a tree, and loops left which form
handles. Two pieces of bark form the tongs, and a big stone sunk into
the ground the anvil. They make several hoes in a day, and the metal
is very good; it is all from yellow haematite, which abounds all over
this part of the country; the bellows consist of two goatskins with
sticks at the open ends, which are opened and shut at every blast.

[Illustration: Forging Hoes.]

_13th November, 1866._--A lion came last night and gave a growl or two
on finding he could not get our meat: a man had lent us a hunting net
to protect it and us from intruders of this sort. The people kept up a
shouting for hours afterwards, in order to keep him away by the human
voice.

We might have gone on, but I had a galled heel from new shoes. Wild
figs are rather nice when quite ripe.

_14th November, 1866._--We marched northwards round the end of Chisia
Hill, and remained for the night at a blacksmith's, or rather
founder's village; the two occupations of founder and smith are
always united, and boys taught to be smiths in Europe or India would
find themselves useless if unable to smelt the ore. A good portion of
the trees of the country have been cut down for charcoal, and those
which now spring up are small; certain fruit trees alone are left. The
long slopes on the undulating country, clothed with fresh foliage,
look very beautiful. The young trees alternate with patches of yellow
grass not yet burned; the hills are covered with a thick mantle of
small green trees with, as usual, large ones at intervals. The people
at Kalumbi, on the Mando (where we spent four days), had once a
stockade of wild fig _(Ficus Indica)_ and euphorbia round their
village, which has a running rill on each side of it; but the trees
which enabled them to withstand a siege by Mazitu fell before
elephants and buffaloes during a temporary absence of the villagers;
the remains of the stockade are all around it yet. Lions sometimes
enter huts by breaking through the roof: elephants certainly do, for
we saw a roof destroyed by one; the only chance for the inmates is to
drive a spear into the belly of the beast while so engaged.

A man came and reported the Mazitu to be at Chanyandula's village,
where we are going. The headman advised remaining at his village till
we saw whether they came this way or went by another path. The women
were sent away, but the men went on with their employments; two
proceeded with the building of a furnace on an anthill, where they are
almost always placed, and they keep a look-out while working. We have
the protection of an all-embracing Providence, and trust that He,
whose care of His people «xceeds all that our utmost self-love can
attain, will shield us and make our way prosperous.

_16th November, 1866._--An elephant came near enough last night to
scream at us, but passed on, warned, perhaps, by the shouting of the
villagers not to meddle with man. No Mazitu having come, we marched on
and crossed the Bua, eight yards wide and knee deep. It rises in the
northern hills a little beyond Kanyindula's village, winds round his
mountains, and away to the east. The scenery among the mountains is
very lovely: they are covered with a close mantle of green, with here
and there red and light-coloured patches, showing where grass has been
burned off recently and the red clay soil is exposed; the lighter
portions are unburned grass or rocks. Large trees are here more
numerous, and give an agreeable change of contour to the valleys and
ridges of the hills; the boughs of many still retain a tinge of red
from young leaves. We came to the Bua again before reaching Kanyenjé,
as Kanyindula's place is called. The iron trade must have been carried
on for an immense time in the country, for one cannot go a quarter of
a mile without meeting pieces of slag and broken pots, calcined pipes,
and fragments of the furnaces, which are converted by the fire into
brick. It is curious that the large stone sledge-hammers now in use
are not called by the name stone-hammers, but by a distinct word,
"kama:" nyundo is one made of iron.

When we arrived at Kanyenjé, Kanyindula was out collecting charcoal.
He sent a party of men to ask if we should remain next day: an old,
unintellectual-looking man was among the number sent, who had
twenty-seven rings of elephant's skin on his arm, all killed by
himself by the spear alone: he had given up fighting elephants since
the Mazitu came, whom we heard had passed away to the south-east of
this place, taking all the crops of last year, and the chief alone has
food. He gave us some, which was very acceptable, as we got none at
the two villages south of this. Kanyindula came himself in the
evening, an active, stern-looking man, but we got on very well with
him.

The people say that they were taught to smelt iron by Chisumpi, which
is the name of Mulungu (God), and that they came from Lake Nyassa
originally; if so, they are greatly inferior to the Manganja on the
Lake in pottery, for the fragments, as well as modern whole vessels,
are very coarse; the ornamentation is omitted or merely dots. They
never heard of aërolites, but know hail.

I notice here that the tree Mfu, or Mö, having sweet-scented leaves,
yields an edible plum in clusters. Bua-bwa is another edible
fruit-tree with palmated leaves.

Mbéu is a climbing, arboraceous plant, and yields a very pleasant
fruit, which tastes like gooseberries: its seeds are very minute.

_18th and 19th November, 1866._--Rain fell heavily yesterday
afternoon, and was very threatening to-day; we remain to sew a calico
tent.

_20th November, 1866._--Kanyindula came with three carriers this
morning instead of five, and joined them in demanding prepayment: it
was natural for him to side with them, as they have more power than he
has, in fact, the chiefs in these parts all court their people, and he
could feel more interest in them than in an entire stranger whom he
might never see again: however, we came on without his people, leaving
two to guard the loads.

About four miles up the valley we came to a village named Kanyenjeré
Mponda, at the fountain-eye of the Bua, and thence sent men back for
the loads, while we had the shelter of good huts during a heavy
thunder-shower, and made us willing to remain all night. The valley is
lovely in the extreme. The mountains on each side are gently rounded,
and, as usual, covered over with tree foliage, except where the red
soil is exposed by recent grass-burnings. Quartz rocks jut out, and
much drift of that material has been carried down by the gullies into
the bottom. These gullies being in compact clay, the water has but
little power of erosion, so they are worn deep but narrow. Some
fragments of titaniferous iron ore, with haematite changed by heat,
and magnetic, lay in the gully, which had worn itself a channel on
the north side of the village. The Bua, like most African streams
whose sources I have seen, rises in an oozing boggy spot. Another
stream, the Tembwé, rises near the same spot, and flows N.W. into, the
Loangwa. We saw Shuaré palms in its bed.

_21st November, 1866._--We left Bua fountain, lat. 13° 40' south, and
made a short march to Mokatoba, a stockaded village, where the people
refused to admit us till the headman, came. They have a little food
here, and sold us some. We have been on rather short commons for some
time, and this made our detention agreeable. We rose a little in
altitude after leaving this morning, then, though in the same valley,
made a little descent towards the N.N.W. High winds came driving over
the eastern range, which is called Mchinjé, and bring large masses of
clouds, which are the rain-givers. They seem to come from the
south-east. The scenery of the valley is lovely and rich in the
extreme. All the foliage is fresh washed and clean; young herbage is
bursting through the ground; the air is deliciously cool, and the
birds are singing joyfully: one, called Mzié, is a good songster, with
a loud melodious voice. Large game abounds, but we do not meet with
it.

We are making our way slowly to the north, where food is said to be
abundant. I divided about 50 lbs. of powder among the people of my
following to shoot with, and buy goats or other food as we could. This
reduces our extra loads to three--four just now, Simon being sick
again. He rubbed goat's-fat on a blistered surface, and caused an
eruption of pimples.

_Mem._--The people assent by lifting up the head instead of nodding it
down as we do; deaf mutes are said to do the same.

_22nd November, 1866._--Leaving Mokatoba village, and proceeding down
the valley, which on the north is shut up apparently by a mountain
called Kokwé, we crossed the Kasamba, about two miles from Mokatoba,
and yet found it, though so near its source, four yards wide, and knee
deep. Its source is about a mile above Mokatoba, in the same valley,
with the Bua and Tembwé. We were told that elephants were near, and we
saw where they had been an hour before; but after seeking about could
not find them. An old man, in the deep defile between Kokwé and Yasika
Mountains, pointed to the latter, and said, "Elephants! why, there
they are. Elephants, or tusks, walking on foot are never absent;" but
though we were eager for flesh, we could not give him credit, and went
down the defile which gives rise to the Sandili River: where we
crossed it in the defile, it was a mere rill, having large trees along
its banks, yet it is said to go to the Loangwa of Zumbo, N.W. or
N.N.W. We were now in fact upon the slope which inclines to that
river, and made a rapid descent in altitude. We reached Silubi's
village, on the base of a rocky detached hill. No food to be had; all
taken by Mazitu, so Silubi gave me some Masuko fruit instead. They
find that they can keep the Mazitu off by going up a rocky eminence,
and hurling stones and arrows down on the invaders: they can defend
themselves also by stockades, and these are becoming very general.

On leaving Silubi's village, we went to a range of hills, and after
passing through found that we had a comparatively level country on the
north: it would be called a well-wooded country if we looked at it
only from a distance. It is formed into long ridges, all green and
wooded; but clumps of large trees, where villages have been, or are
still situated, show that the sylvan foliage around and over the whole
country is that of mere hop-poles. The whole of this upland region
might be called woody, if we bear in mind that where the population is
dense, and has been long undisturbed, the trees are cut down to the
size of low bush. Large districts are kept to about the size of
hop-poles, growing on pollards three or four feet from the ground, by
charcoal burners, who, in all instances, are smiths too.

On reaching Zeoré's village, on the Lokuzhwa, we found it stockaded,
and stagnant pools round three sides of it. The Mazitu had come,
pillaged all the surrounding villages, looked at this, and then went
away; so the people had food to sell. They here call themselves
Echéwa, and have a different marking from the Atumboka. The men have
the hair dressed as if a number of the hairs of elephants' tails were
stuck around the head: the women wear a small lip-ring, and a straw or
piece of stick in the lower lip, which dangles down about level with
the lower edge of the chin: their clothing in front is very scanty.
The men know nothing of distant places, the Manganja being a very
stay-at-home people. The stockades are crowded with huts, and the
children have but small room to play in the narrow spaces between.

_25th November, 1866._--Sunday at Zeoré's. The villagers thought we
prayed for rain, which was much needed. The cracks in the soil have
not yet come together by the «welling of soil produced by moisture. I
disabused their minds about rain-making prayers, and found the headman
intelligent.

I did not intend to notice the Lokuzhwa, it is such a contemptible
little rill, and not at present running; but in going to our next
point, Mpandé's village, we go along its valley, and cross it several
times, as it makes for the Loangwa in the north. The valley is of rich
dark red loam, and so many lilies of the Amaryllis kind have
established themselves as completely to mask the colour of the soil.
They form a covering of pure white where the land has been cleared by
the hoe. As we go along this valley to the Loangwa, we descend in
altitude. It is said to rise at "Nombé rumé," as we formerly heard.

_27th November, 1866._--Zeoré's people would not carry without
prepayment, so we left our extra loads as usual and went on, sending
men back for them: these, however, did not come till 27th, and then
two of my men got fever. I groan in spirit, and do not know how to
make our gear into nine loads only. It is the knowledge that we shall
be detained, some two or three months during the heavy rains that
makes me cleave to it as means of support.

Advantage has been taken by the people, of spots where the Lokuzhwa
goes round three parts of a circle, to erect their stockaded villages.
This is the case here, and the water, being stagnant, engenders
disease. The country abounds in a fine light blue flowering perennial
pea, which the people make use of as a relish. At present the blossoms
only are collected and boiled. On inquiring the name, _chilóbé_, the
men asked me if we had none in our country. On replying in the
negative, they looked with pity on us: "What a wretched, country not
to have chilóbé." It is on the highlands above; we never saw it
elsewhere! Another species of pea _(Chilobé Weza)_, with reddish
flowers, is eaten in the same way; but it has spread but little in
comparison. It is worth remarking that porridge of maize or sorghum is
never offered without some pulse, beans, or bean leaves, or flowers,
they seem to feel the need of it, or of pulse, which is richer in
flesh-formers than the porridge.

Last night a loud clapping of hands by the men was followed by several
half-suppressed screams by a woman. They were quite _eldritch_, as if
she could not get them out. Then succeeded a lot of utterances as if
she were in ecstasy, to which a man responded, "Moio, moio." The
utterances, so far as I could catch, were in five-syllable
snatches--abrupt and laboured. I wonder if this "bubbling or boiling
over" has been preserved as the form in which the true prophets of old
gave forth their "burdens"? One sentence, frequently repeated towards
the close of the effusion, was "_linyama uta_," "flesh of the bow,"
showing that the Pythoness loved venison killed by the bow. The people
applauded, and attended, hoping, I suppose, that rain would follow her
efforts. Next day she was duly honoured by drumming and dancing.[35]

Prevalent beliefs seem to be persistent in certain tribes. That
strange idea of property in man that permits him to be sold to another
is among the Arabs, Manganja, Makoa, Waiyau, but not among Kaffirs or
Zulus, and Bechuanas. If we exclude the Arabs, two families of
Africans alone are slavers on the east side of the Continent.

_30th November, 1866._--We march to Chilunda's or Embora's, still on
the Lokuzhwa, now a sand-stream about twenty yards wide, with pools in
its bed; its course is pretty much north or N.N.W. We are now near the
Loangwa country, covered with a dense dwarf forest, and the people
collected in stockades. This village is on a tongue of land (between
Lokuzhwa and another sluggish rivulet), chosen for its strength. It is
close to a hill named Chipemba, and there are ranges of hills both
east and west in the distance. Embora came to visit us soon after we
arrived--a tall man with a Yankee face. He was very much tickled when
asked if he were a Motumboka. After indulging in laughter at the idea
of being one of such a small tribe of Manganja, he said proudly, "That
he belonged to the Echéwa, who inhabited all the country to which I
was going." They are generally smiths; a mass of iron had just been
brought in to him from some outlying furnaces. It is made into hoes,
which are sold for native cloths down the Loangwa.

_3rd December, 1866._--March through a hilly country covered with
dwarf forest to Kandé's village, still on the Lokuzhwa. We made some
westing. The village was surrounded by a dense hedge of bamboo and a
species of bushy fig that loves edges of water-bearing streams: it is
not found where the moisture is not perennial. Kandé is a fine tall
smith; I asked him if he knew his antecedents; he said he had been
bought by Babisa at Chipéta, and left at Chilunda's, and therefore
belonged to no one. Two Waiyau now volunteered to go on with us, and
as they declared their masters were killed by the Mazitu, and Kandé
seemed to confirm them, we let them join. In general, runaway slaves
are bad characters, but these two seem good men, and we want them to
fill up our complement: another volunteer we employ as goatherd.

A continuous tap-tapping in the villages shows that bark cloth is
being made. The bark, on being removed from the-tree, is steeped in
water, or in a black muddy hole, till the outer of the two inner barks
can be separated, then commences the tapping with a mallet to separate
and soften the fibres. The head of this is often of ebony, with the
face cut into small furrows, which, without breaking, separate and
soften the fibres.

[Illustration.]

_4th December, 1866._--Marched westwards, over a hilly, dwarf
forest-covered country: as we advanced, trees increased in size, but
no people inhabited it; we spent a miserable night at Katétté, wetted
by a heavy thunder-shower, which lasted a good while. Morning _(5th
December_) muggy, clouded all over, and rolling thunder in distance.
Went three hours with, for a wonder, no water, but made westing
chiefly, and got on to the Lokuzhwa again: all the people are
collected on it.

_6th December, 1866._--Too ill to march.

_7th December, 1866._--Went on, and passed Mesumbé's village, also
protected by bamboos, and came to the hill Mparawé, with a village
perched on its northern base and well up its sides. The Babisa have
begun to imitate the Mazitu by attacking and plundering Manganja
villages. Muasi's brother was so attacked, and now is here and eager
to attack in return. In various villages we have observed miniature
huts, about two feet high, very neatly thatched and plastered, here we
noticed them in dozens. On inquiring, we were told that when a child
or relative dies one is made, and when any pleasant food is cooked or
beer brewed, a little is placed in the tiny hut for the departed soul,
which is believed to enjoy it.

The Lokuzhwa is here some fifty yards wide, and running. Numerous
large pitholes in the fine-grained schist in its bed show that much
water has flowed in it.

_8th December, 1866._--A kind of bean called "chitetta" is eaten here,
it is an old acquaintance in the Bechuana country, where it is called
"mositsané," and is a mere plant; here it becomes a tree, from fifteen
to twenty feet high. The root is used for tanning; the bean is
pounded, and then put into a sieve of bark cloth to extract, by
repeated washings, the excessively astringent matter it contains.
Where the people have plenty of water, as here, it is used copiously
in various processes, among Bechuanas it is scarce, and its many uses
unknown: the pod becomes from fifteen to eighteen inches long, and an
inch in diameter.

_9th December, 1866._--A poor child, whose mother had died, was
unprovided for; no one not a relative will nurse another's child. It
called out piteously for its mother by name, and the women (like the
servants in the case of the poet Cowper when a child), said, "She is
coming." I gave it a piece of bread, but it was too far gone, and is
dead to-day.

An alarm of Mazitu sent all the villagers up the sides of Mparawé
this morning. The affair was a chase of a hyaena, but everything is
Mazitu! The Babisa came here, but were surrounded and nearly all cut
off. Muasi was so eager to be off with a party to return the attack on
the Mazitu, that, when deputed by the headman to give us a guide, he
got the man to turn at the first village, so we had to go on without
guides, and made about due north.

_11th December, 1866._--We are now detained in the forest, at a place
called Chondé Forest, by set-in rains. It rains every day, and
generally in the afternoon; but the country is not wetted till the
"set-in" rains commence; the cracks in the soil then fill up and
everything rushes up with astonishing rapidity; the grass is quite
crisp and soft. After the fine-grained schist, we came on granite with
large flakes of talc in it. This forest is of good-sized trees, many
of them mopané. The birds now make much melody and noise--all intent
on building.

_12th December, 1866._--Across an undulating forest country north we
got a man to show us the way, if a pathless forest can so be called.
We used a game-path as long as it ran north, but left it when it
deviated, and rested under a baobab-tree with a marabou's nest--a
bundle of sticks on a branch; the young ones uttered a hard chuck,
chuck, when the old ones flew over them. A sun-bird, with bright
scarlet throat and breast, had its nest on another branch, it was
formed like the weaver's nest, but without a tube. I observed the dam
picking out insects from the bark and leaves of the baobab, keeping on
the wing the while: it would thus appear to be insectivorous as well
as a honey-bibber. Much spoor of elands, zebras, gnus, kamas, pallahs,
buffaloes, reed-bucks, with tsetse, their parasites.

_13th December, 1866._--Reached the Tokosusi, which is said to rise at
Nombé Rumé, about twenty yards wide and knee deep, swollen by the
rains: it had left a cake of black tenacious mud on its banks. Here I
got a pallah antelope, and a very strange flower called "katendé,"
which was a whorl of seventy-two flowers sprung from a flat, round
root; but it cannot be described. Our guide would have crossed the
Tokosusi, which was running north-west to join the Loangwa, and then
gone to that river; but always when we have any difficulty the
"lazies" exhibit themselves. We had no grain; and three remained
behind spending four hours at what we did in an hour and a quarter.
Our guide became tired and turned, not before securing another; but he
would not go over the Loangwa; no one likes to go out of his own
country: he would go westwards to Maranda's, and nowhere else. A
"set-in" rain came on after dark, and we went on through slush, the
trees sending down heavier drops than the showers as we neared the
Loangwa; we forded several deep gullies, all flowing north or
north-west into it. The paths were running with water, and when we
emerged from the large Mopané Forest, we came on the plain of
excessively adhesive mud, on which Maranda's stronghold stands on the
left bank of Loangwa, here a good-sized river. The people were all
afraid of us, and we were mortified to find that food is scarce. The
Mazitu have been here three times, and the fear they have inspired,
though they were successfully repelled, has prevented agricultural
operations from being carried on.

_Mem._--A flake of reed is often used in surgical operations among the
natives, as being sharper than their knives.

FOOTNOTES:

[34] A cloth means two yards of unbleached calico.

[35] Chuma remembers part of the words of her song to be as follows:--

Kowé! kowé! n'andambwi, M'vula léru, korolé ko okwé, Waie, ona, kordi,
mvula!

He cannot translate it as it is pure Manganja, but with the exception
of the first line--which relates to a little song-bird with a
beautiful note, it is a mere reiteration "rain will surely come
to-day."--ED.




CHAPTER VII.

    Crosses the Loangwa. Distressing march. The king-hunter. Great
    hunger. Christmas feast necessarily postponed. Loss of goats.
    Honey-hunters. A meal at last. The Babisa. The Mazitu again.
    Chitembo's. End of 1866. The new year. The northern brim of the
    great Loangwa Valley. Accident to chronometers. Meal gives out.
    Escape from a Cobra capella. Pushes for the Chambezé. Death of
    Chitané. Great pinch for food. Disastrous loss of medicine
    chest. Bead currency. Babisa. The Chambezé. Beaches
    Chitapangwa's town. Meets Arab traders from Zanzibar. Sends off
    letters. Chitapangwa and his people. Complications.


_16th December, 1866._--We could get no food at any price on 15th, so
we crossed the Loangwa, and judged it to be from seventy to a hundred
yards wide: it is deep at present, and it must always be so, for some
Atumboka submitted to the Mazitu, and ferried them over and back
again. The river is said to rise in the north; it has alluvial banks
with large forest trees along them, bottom sandy, and great sandbanks
are in it like the Zambesi. No guide would come, so we went on without
one. The "lazies" of the party seized the opportunity of remaining
behind--wandering, as they said, though all the cross paths were
marked.[36] This evening we secured the latitude 12° 40' 48" S., which
would make our crossing place about 12° 45' S. Clouds prevented
observations, as they usually do in the rainy season.

_17 December, 1866._--We went on through a bushy country without
paths, and struck the Pamazi, a river of sixty yards wide, in steep
banks and in flood, and held on as well as we could through a very
difficult country, the river forcing us north-west: I heard
hippopotami in it. Game is abundant but wild; we shot two poku
antelopes[37] here, called "tsébulas," which drew a hunter to us, who
consented for meat and pay to show us a ford. He said that the Pamazi
rises in a range of mountains we can now see (in general we could see
no high ground during our marches for the last fortnight), we forded
it, thigh deep on one side and breast deep on the other. We made only
about three miles of northing, and found the people on the left bank
uncivil: they would not lend a hut, so we soon put up a tent of
waterproof cloth and branches.

_18th December, 1866._--As the men grumbled at their feet being
pierced by thorns in the trackless portions we had passed I was
anxious to get a guide, but the only one we could secure would go to
Molenga's only; so I submitted, though this led us east instead of
north. When we arrived we were asked what we wanted, seeing we brought
neither slaves nor ivory: I replied it was much against our will that
we came; but the guide had declared that this was the only way to
Casembe's, our next stage. To get rid of us they gave a guide, and we
set forward northwards. The Mopané Forest is perfectly level, and
after rains the water stands in pools; but during most of the year it
is dry. The trees here were very large, and planted some twenty or
thirty yards apart: as there are no branches on their lower parts
animals see very far. I shot a gnu, but wandered in coming back to the
party, and did not find them till it was getting dark. Many parts of
the plain are thrown up into heaps, of about the size of one's cap
(probably by crabs), which now, being hard, are difficult to walk
over; under the trees it is perfectly smooth. The Mopané-tree
furnishes the iron wood of the Portuguese Pao Ferro: it is pretty to
travel in and look at the bright sunshine of early morning; but the
leaves hang perpendicularly as the sun rises high, and afford little
or no shade through the day,[38] so as the land is clayey, it becomes
hard-baked thereby.

We observed that the people had placed corn-granaries at
different parts of this forest, and had been careful to leave no
track to them--a provision in case of further visits of Mazitu.
King-hunters[39] abound, and make the air resound with their
stridulous notes, which commence with a sharp, shrill cheep, and then
follows a succession of notes, which resembles a pea in a whistle.
Another bird is particularly conspicuous at present by its chattering
activity, its nest consists of a bundle of fine seed-stalks of grass
hung at the end of a branch, the free ends being left untrimmed, and
no attempt at concealment made. Many other birds are now active, and
so many new notes are heard, that it is probable this is a richer
ornithological region than the Zambesi. Guinea-fowl and francolins are
in abundance, and so indeed are all the other kinds of game, as
zebras, pallahs, gnus.

_19th December, 1866._--I got a fine male kudu. We have no grain, and
live on meat alone, but I am better off than the men, inasmuch as I
get a little goat's-milk besides. The kudu stood five feet six inches
high; horns, three feet on the straight.

_20th December, 1866._--Reached Casembe,[40] a miserable hamlet of a
few huts. The people here are very suspicious, and will do nothing but
with a haggle for prepayment; we could get no grain, nor even native
herbs, though we rested a day to try.

After a short march we came to the Nyamazi, another considerable
rivulet coming from the north to fall into the Loangwa. It has the
same character, of steep alluvial banks, as Pamazi, and about the same
width, but much shallower; loin deep, though somewhat swollen; from
fifty to sixty yards wide. We came to some low hills, of coarse
sandstone, and on crossing these we could see, by looking back, that
for many days we had been travelling over a perfectly level valley,
clothed with a mantle of forest. The barometers had shown no
difference of level from about 1800 feet above the sea. We began our
descent into this great valley when we left the source of the Bua; and
now these low hills, called Ngalé or Ngaloa, though only 100 feet or
so above the level we had left, showed that we had come to the shore
of an ancient lake, which probably was let off when the rent of
Kebra-basa on the Zambesi was made, for we found immense banks of
well-rounded shingle above--or, rather, they may be called mounds of
shingle--all of hard silicious schist with a few pieces of fossil-wood
among them. The gullies reveal a stratum of this well-rounded shingle,
lying on a soft greenish sandstone, which again lies on the coarse
sandstone first observed. This formation is identical with that
observed formerly below the Victoria Falls. We have the mountains
still on our north and north-west (the so-called mountains of Bisa, or
Babisa), and from them the Nyamazi flows, while Pamazi comes round the
end, or what appears to be the end, of the higher portion. _(22nd
December, 1866.)_ Shot a bush-buck; and slept on the left bank of
Nyamazi.

_23rd December, 1866._--Hunger sent us on; for a meat diet is far from
satisfying: we all felt very weak on it, and soon tired on a march,
but to-day we hurried on to Kavimba, who successfully beat off the
Mazitu. It is very hot, and between three and four hours is a good
day's march. On sitting down to rest before entering the village we
were observed, and all the force of the village issued to kill us as
Mazitu, but when we stood up the mistake was readily perceived, and
the arrows were placed again in their quivers. In the hut four Mazitu
shields show that they did not get it all their own way; they are
miserable imitations of Zulu shields, made of eland and water-buck's
hides, and ill sewn.

A very small return present was made by Kavimba, and nothing could be
bought except at exorbitant prices. We remained all day on the 24th
haggling and trying to get some grain. He took a fancy to a shirt, and
left it to his wife to bargain for. She got the length of cursing and
swearing, and we bore it, but could get only a small price for it. We
resolved to hold our Christmas some other day, and in a better place.
The women seem ill-regulated here--Kavimba's brother had words with
his spouse, and at the end of every burst of vociferation on both
sides called out, "Bring the Muavi! bring the Muavi!" or ordeal.

_Christmas-day, 1866._--No one being willing to guide us to Moerwa's,
I hinted to Kavimba that should we see a rhinoceros I would kill it.
He came himself, and led us on where he expected to find these
animals, but we saw only their footsteps. We lost our four goats
somewhere--stolen or strayed in the pathless forest, we do not know
which, but the loss I felt very keenly, for whatever kind of food we
had, a little milk made all right, and I felt strong and well, but
coarse food hard of digestion without it was very trying. We spent the
26th in searching for them, but all in vain. Kavimba had a boy
carrying two huge elephant spears, with these he attacks that large
animal single-handed. We parted from him, as I thought, good friends,
but a man who volunteered to act as guide saw him in the forest
afterwards, and was counselled by him to leave us as we should not
pay him. This hovering near us after we parted makes me suspect
Kavimba of taking the goats, but I am not certain. The loss affected
me more than I could have imagined. A little indigestible porridge, of
scarcely any taste, is now my fare, and it makes me dream of better.

_27th December, 1866._--Our guide asked for his cloth to wear on the
way, as it was wet and raining, and his bark cloth was a miserable
covering. I consented, and he bolted on the first opportunity; the
forest being so dense he was soon out of reach of pursuit: he had been
advised to this by Kavimba, and nothing else need have been expected.
We then followed the track of a travelling party of Babisa, but the
grass springs up over the paths, and it was soon lost: the rain had
fallen early in these parts, and the grass was all in seed. In the
afternoon we came to the hills in the north where Nyamazi rises, and
went up the bed of a rivulet for some time, and then ascended out of
the valley. At the bottom of the ascent and in the rivulet the shingle
stratum was sometimes fifty feet thick, then as we ascended we met
mica schist tilted on edge, then grey gneiss, and last an igneous trap
among quartz rocks, with a great deal of bright mica and talc in them.
On resting near the top of the first ascent two honey hunters came to
us. They were using the honey-guide as an aid, the bird came to us as
they arrived, waited quietly during the half-hour they smoked and
chatted, and then went on with them.[41]

The tsetse flies, which were very numerous at the bottom, came up the
ascent with us, but as we increased our altitude by another thousand
feet they gradually dropped off and left us: only one remained in the
evening, and he seemed out of spirits. Near sunset we encamped by
water on the cool height, and made our shelters with boughs of leafy
trees; mine was rendered perfect by Dr. Stenhouse's invaluable patent
cloth, which is very superior to mackintosh: indeed the india-rubber
cloth is not to be named in the same day with it.

_28th December, 1866._--Three men, going to hunt bees, came to us as
we were starting and assured us that Moerwa's was near. The first
party had told us the same thing, and so often have we gone long
distances as "_pafupi_" (near), when in reality they were "_patari_"
(far), that we begin to think _pafupi_ means "I wish you to go there,"
and _patari_ the reverse. In this case _near_ meant an hour and
three-quarters from our sleeping-place to Moerwa's!

When we look back from the height to which we have ascended we see a
great plain clothed with dark green forest except at the line of
yellowish grass, where probably the Loangwa flows. On the east and
south-east this plain is bounded at the extreme range of our vision by
a wall of dim blue mountains forty or fifty miles off. The Loangwa is
said to rise in the Chibalé country due north of this Malambwé (in
which district Moerwa's village is situated), and to flow S.E., then
round to where we found it.

Moerwa came to visit me in my hut, a rather stupid man, though he has
a well-shaped and well-developed forehead, and tried the usual little
arts of getting us to buy all we need here though the prices are
exorbitant. "No people in front, great hunger there." "We must buy
food here and carry it to support us." On asking the names of the next
headman he would not inform me, till I told him to try and speak like
a man; he then told us that the first Lobemba chief was Motuna, and
the next Chafunga. We have nothing, as we saw no animals in our way
hither, and hunger is ill to bear. By giving Moerwa a good large cloth
he was induced to cook a mess of maëre or millet and elephant's
stomach; it was so good to get a full meal that I could have given
him another cloth, and the more so as it was accompanied by a message
that he would cook more next day and in larger quantity. On inquiring
next evening he said "the man had told lies," he had cooked nothing
more: he was prone to lie himself, and was a rather bad specimen of a
chief.

The Babisa have round bullet heads, snub noses, often high
cheek-bones, an upward slant of the eyes, and look as if they had a
lot of Bushman blood in them, and a good many would pass for Bushmen
or Hottentots. Both Babisa and Waiyau may have a mixture of the race,
which would account for their roving habits. The women have the
fashion of exposing the upper part of the buttocks by letting a very
stiff cloth fall down behind. Their teeth are filed to points, they
wear no lip-ring, and the hair is parted so as to lie in a net at the
back part of the head. The mode of salutation among the men is to lie
down nearly on the back, clapping the hands, and making a rather
inelegant half-kissing sound with the lips.

_29th December, 1866._--We remain a day at Malambwé, but get nothing
save a little maëre,[42] which grates in the teeth and in the stomach.
To prevent the Mazitu starving them they cultivate small round patches
placed at wide intervals in the forest, with which the country is
covered. The spot, some ten yards or a little more in diameter, is
manured with ashes and planted with this millet and pumpkins, in order
that should Mazitu come they may be unable to carry off the pumpkins,
or gather the millet, the seed of which is very small. They have no
more valour than the other Africans, but more craft, and are much
given to falsehood. They will not answer common questions except by
misstatements, but this may arise in our case from our being in
disfavour, because we will not sell all our goods to them for ivory.

_30th December, 1866._--Marched for Chitemba's, because it is said he
has not fled from the Mazitu, and therefore has food to spare. While
resting, Moerwa, with all his force of men, women, and dogs, came up,
on his way to hunt elephants. The men were furnished with big spears,
and their dogs are used to engage the animal's attention while they
spear it; the women cook the meat and make huts, and a smith goes with
them to mend any spear that may be broken.

We pass over level plateaux on which the roads are wisely placed, and
do not feel that we are travelling in a mountainous region. It is all
covered with dense forest, which in many cases is pollarded, from
being cut for bark cloth or for hunting purposes. Masuko fruit
abounds. From the cisalpinae and gum-copal trees bark cloth is made.

We now come to large masses of haematite, which is often ferruginous:
there is conglomerate too, many quartz pebbles being intermixed. It
seems as if when the lakes existed in the lower lands, the higher
levels gave forth great quantities of water from chalybeate fountains,
which deposited this iron ore. Grey granite or quartz with talc in it
or gneiss lie under the haematite.

The forest resounds with singing birds, intent on nidification.
Francolins abound, but are wild. "Whip-poor-wills," and another bird,
which has a more laboured treble note and voice--"Oh, oh, oh!" Gay
flowers blush unseen, but the people have a good idea of what is
eatable and what not. I looked at a woman's basket of leaves which she
had collected for supper, and it contained eight or ten kinds, with
mushrooms and orchidaceous flowers. We have a succession of showers
to-day, from N.E. and E.N.E. We are uncertain when we shall come to a
village, as the Babisa will not tell us where they are situated. In
the evening we encamped beside a little rill, and made our shelters,
but we had so little to eat that I dreamed the night long of dinners I
had eaten, and might have been eating.

I shall make this beautiful land better known, which is an essential
part of the process by which it will become the "pleasant haunts of
men." It is impossible to describe its rich luxuriance, but most of it
is running to waste through the slave-trade and internal wars.

_31st December, 1866._--When we started this morning after rain, all
the trees and grass dripping, a lion roared, but we did not see him. A
woman had come a long way and built a neat miniature hut in the
burnt-out ruins of her mother's house: the food-offering she placed in
it, and the act of filial piety, no doubt comforted this poor
mourner's heart!

We arrived at Chitembo's village and found it deserted. The Babisa
dismantle their huts and carry off the thatch to their gardens, where
they live till harvest is over. This fallowing of the framework
destroys many insects, but we observed that wherever Babisa and Arab
slavers go they leave the breed of the domestic bug: it would be well
if that were all the ill they did! Chitembo was working in his garden
when we arrived, but soon came, and gave us the choice of all the
standing huts: he is an old man, much more frank and truthful than our
last headman, and says that Chitapanga is paramount chief of all the
Abemba.

Three or four women whom we saw performing a rain dance at Moerwa's
were here doing the same; their faces smeared with meal, and axes in
their hands, imitating as well as they could the male voice. I got
some maëre or millet here and a fowl.

We now end 1866. It has not been so fruitful or useful as I intended.
Will try to do better in 1867, and be better--more gentle and loving;
and may the Almighty, to whom I commit my way, bring my desires to
pass, and prosper me! Let all the sins of '66 be blotted out for
Jesus' sake.

       *       *       *       *       *

_1st January, 1867._--May He who was full of grace and truth impress
His character on mine. Grace--eagerness to show favour;
truth--truthfulness, sincerity, honour--for His mercy's sake.

We remain to-day at Mbulukuta-Chitembo's district, by the boys'
desire, because it is New Year's day, and also because we can get some
food.

_2nd and 3rd January, 1867._--Remain on account of a threatened
_set-in_ rain. Bought a senzé _(Aulocaudatus Swindernianus)_, a
rat-looking animal; but I was glad to get anything in the shape of
meat.

_4th January, 1867._--It is a _set-in_ rain. The boiling-point
thermometer shows an altitude of 3565 feet above the sea. Barometer,
3983 feet ditto. We get a little maëre here, and prefer it to being
drenched and our goods spoiled. We have neither sugar nor salt, so
there are no soluble goods; but cloth and gunpowder get damaged
easily. It is hard fare and scanty; I feel always hungry, and am
constantly dreaming of better food when I should be sleeping. Savoury
viands of former times come vividly up before the imagination, even in
my waking hours; this is rather odd as I am not a dreamer; indeed I
scarcely ever dream but when I am going to be ill or actually so.[43]

We are on the northern brim (or north-western rather) of the great
Loangwa Valley we lately crossed: the rain coming from the east
strikes it, and is deposited both above and below, while much of the
valley itself is not yet well wetted. Here all the grasses have run up
to seed, and yet they are not more than two feet or so in the
seed-stalks. The pasturage is very fine. The people employ these
continuous or _set-in_ rains for hunting the elephant, which gets
bogged, and sinks in from fifteen to eighteen inches in soft mud,
then even he, the strong one, feels it difficult to escape.[44]

_5th January, 1867._--Still storm-stayed. We shall be off as soon as
we get a fair day and these heavy rains cease.

_6th January, 1867._--After service two men came and said that they
were going to Lobemba, and would guide us to Motuna's village; another
came a day or two ago, but he had such a villainous look we all shrank
from him. These men's faces pleased us, but they did not turn out all
we expected, for they guided us away westwards without a path: it was
a drizzling rain, and this made us averse to striking off in the
forest without them. No inhabitants now except at wide intervals, and
no animals either. In the afternoon we came to a deep ravine full of
gigantic timber trees and bamboos, with the Mavoché River at the
bottom. The dampness had caused the growth of lichens all over the
trees, and the steep descent was so slippery that two boys fell, and
he who carried the chronometers, twice: this was a misfortune, as it
altered the rates, as was seen by the first comparison of them
together in the evening. No food at Motuna's village, yet the headman
tried to extort two fathoms of calico on the ground that he was owner
of the country: we offered to go out of his village and make our own
sheds on "God's land," that is, where it is uncultivated, rather than
have any words about it: he then begged us to stay. A very high
mountain called Chikokwé appeared W.S.W. from this village; the people
who live on it are called Matumba; this part is named Lokumbi, but
whatever the name, all the people are Babisa, the dependants of the
Babemba, reduced by their own slaving habits to a miserable jungly
state. They feed much on wild fruits, roots, and leaves; and yet are
generally plump. They use a wooden hoe for sowing their maëre, it is
a sort of V-shaped implement, made from a branch with another
springing out of it, about an inch in diameter at the sharp point, and
with it they claw the soil after scattering the seed; about a dozen
young men were so employed in the usual small patches as we passed in
the morning.

The country now exhibits the extreme of leafiness and the undulations
are masses of green leaves; as far as the eye can reach with
distinctness it rests on a mantle of that hue, and beyond the scene
becomes dark blue. Near at hand many gay flowers peep out. Here and
there the scarlet martagón (_Lilium chalcedonicum_), bright blue or
yellow gingers; red, orange, yellow, and pure white orchids; pale
lobelias, &c.; but they do not mar the general greenness. As we
ascended higher on the plateau, grasses, which have pink and reddish
brown seed-vessels imparted distinct shades of their colours to the
lawns, and were grateful to the eye. We turned aside early in our
march to avoid being wetted by rains, and took shelter in some old
Babisa sheds; these, when the party is a slaving one, are built so as
to form a circle, with but one opening: a ridge pole, or rather a
succession of ridge poles, form one long shed all round, with no
partitions in the roof-shaped hut.

On the _9th of January_ we ascended a hardened sandstone range. Two
men who accompanied our guide called out every now and then to attract
the attention of the honey-guide, but none appeared. A water-buck had
been killed and eaten at one spot, the ground showing marks of a
severe struggle, but no game was to be seen. Buffaloes and elephants
come here at certain seasons; at present they have migrated elsewhere.
The valleys are very beautiful: the oozes are covered with a species
of short wiry grass, which gives the valleys the appearance of
well-kept gentlemen's parks; but they are full of water to
overflowing--immense sponges in fact;--and one has to watch carefully
in crossing them to avoid plunging into deep water-holes, made by the
feet of elephants or buffaloes. In the ooze generally the water comes
half-way up the shoe, and we go plash, plash, plash, in the lawn-like
glade. There are no people here now in these lovely wild valleys; but
to-day we came to mounds made of old for planting grain, and slag from
iron furnaces. The guide was rather offended because he did not get
meat and meal, though he is accustomed to leaves at home, and we had
none to give except by wanting ourselves: he found a mess without much
labour in the forest. My stock of meal came to an end to-day, but
Simon gave me some of his. It is not the unpleasantness of eating
unpalatable food that teases one, but we are never satisfied; I could
brace myself to dispose of a very unsavoury mess, and think no more
about it; but this maëre engenders a craving which plagues day and
night incessantly.

_10th January, 1867._--We crossed the Muasi, flowing strongly to the
east to the Loangwa River.

In the afternoon an excessively heavy thunderstorm wetted us all to
the skin before any shelter could be made. Two of our men wandered,
and other two remained behind lost, as our track was washed out by the
rains. The country is a succession of enormous waves, all covered with
jungle, and no traces of paths; we were in a hollow, and our firing
was not heard till this morning, when we ascended a height and were
answered. I am thankful that up one was lost, for a man might wander a
long time before reaching a village. Simon gave me a little more of
his meal this morning, and went without himself: I took my belt up
three holes to relieve hunger. We got some wretched wild fruit like
that called "jambos" in India, and at midday reached the village of
Chafunga. Famine here too, but some men had killed an elephant and
came to sell the dried meat: it was high, and so were their prices;
but we are obliged to give our best from this craving hunger.

_12th January, 1867._--Sitting down this morning near a tree my head
was just one yard off a good-sized cobra, coiled up in the sprouts at
its root, but it was benumbed with cold: a very pretty little
puff-adder lay in the path, also benumbed; it is seldom that any harm
is done by these reptiles here, although it is different in India. We
bought up all the food we could get; but it did not suffice for the
marches we expect to make to get to the Chambezé, where food is said
to be abundant, we were therefore again obliged to travel on Sunday.
We had prayers before starting; but I always feel that I am not doing
fight, it lessens the sense of obligation in the minds of my
companions; but I have no choice. We went along a rivulet till it
ended in a small lake, Mapampa or Chimbwé, about five miles long, and
one and a half broad. It had hippopotami, and the poku fed on its
banks.

_15th January, 1867._--We had to cross the Chimbwé at its eastern end,
where it is fully a mile wide. The guide refused to show another and
narrower ford up the stream, which emptied into it from the east; and
I, being the first to cross, neglected to give orders about the poor
little dog, Chitané. The water was waist deep, the bottom soft peaty
stuff with deep holes in it, and the northern side infested by
leeches. The boys were--like myself--all too much engaged with
preserving their balance to think of the spirited little beast, and he
must have swam till he sunk. He was so useful in keeping all the
country curs off our huts; none dare to approach and steal, and he
never stole himself. He shared the staring of the people with his
master, then in the march he took charge of the whole party, running
to the front, and again to the rear, to see that all was right. He was
becoming yellowish-red in colour; and, poor thing, perished in what
the boys all call Chitané's water.

_16th January, 1867._--March through the mountains, which are of
beautiful white and pink dolomite, scantily covered with upland trees
and vegetation. The rain, as usual, made us halt early, and wild
fruits helped to induce us to stay.

In one place we lighted on a party of people living on Masuko fruit,
and making mats of the Shuaré[45] palm petioles. We have hard lines
ourselves; nothing but a little maëre porridge and dampers. We roast a
little grain, and boil it, to make believe it is coffee. The guide, a
maundering fellow, turned because he was not fed better than at home,
and because he knew that but for his obstinacy we should not have lost
the dog. 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 strongly with _clear_ water, though they
are in flood: we can guess which are perennial and which mere torrents
that dry up; they flow northwards and westwards to the Chambezé.

_17th January, 1867._--Detained in an old Babisa slaving encampment by
set-in rain till noon, then set off in the midst of it. Came to hills
of dolomite, but all the rocks were covered with white lichens
(ash-coloured). The path took us thence along a ridge, which separates
the Lotiri, running westwards, and the Lobo, going northwards, and we
came at length to the Lobo, travelling along its banks till we reached
the village called Lisunga, which was about five yards broad, and very
deep, in flood, with clear water, as indeed are all the rivulets now;
they can only be crossed by felling a tree on the bant and letting it
fall across. They do not abrade their banks--vegetation protects them.
I observed that the brown ibis, a noisy bird, took care to restrain
his loud, harsh voice when driven from the tree in which his nest was
placed, and when about a quarter of a mile off, then commenced his
loud "Ha-ha-ha!"

_18th January, 1867._--The headman of Lisunga, Chaokila, took our
present, and gave nothing in return. A deputy from Chitapangwa came
afterwards and demanded a larger present, as he was the greater man,
and said that if we gave him two fathoms of calico, he would order all
the people to bring plenty of food, not here only, but all the way to
the paramount chief of Lobemba, Chitapangwa. I proposed that he should
begin by ordering Chaokila to give us some in return for our present.
This led, as Chaokila told us, to the cloth being delivered to the
deputy, and we saw that all the starvelings south of the Chambezé were
poor dependants on the Babemba, or rather their slaves, who cultivate
little, and then only in the rounded patches above mentioned, so as to
prevent their conquerors from taking away more than a small share. The
subjects are Babisa--a miserable lying lot of serfs. This tribe is
engaged in the slave-trade, and the evil effects are seen in their
depopulated country and utter distrust of every one.

_19th January, 1867._--Raining most of the day. Worked out the
longitude of the mountain-station said to be Mpini, but it will be
better to name it Chitané's, as I could not get the name from our
maundering guide; he probably did not know it. Lat, 11° 9' 2" S.;
long. 32° 1' 30" E.

    Altitude above sea (barometer)     5353 feet;
    Altitude above sea (boiling-point) 5385 feet.
                                       ----
                                   Diff. 32.[46]

Nothing but famine and famine prices, the people living on mushrooms
and leaves. Of mushrooms we observed that they choose five or six
kinds, and rejected ten sorts. One species becomes as large as the
crown of a man's hat; it is pure white, with a blush of brown in the
middle of the crown, and is very good roasted; it is named "Motenta;"
another, Mofeta; 3rd, Boséfwé; 4th, Nakabausa; 5th, Chisimbé,
lobulated, green outside, and pink and fleshy inside; as a relish to
others: some experience must have been requisite to enable them to
distinguish the good from the noxious, of which they reject ten sorts.

We get some elephants' meat from the people, but high is no name for
its condition. It is very bitter, but we used it as a relish to the
maëre porridge: none of the animal is wasted; skin and all is cut up
and sold, not one of us would touch it with the hand if we had aught
else, for the gravy in which we dip our porridge is like an aqueous
solution of aloes, but it prevents the heartburn, which maëre causes
when taken alone. I take mushrooms boiled instead; but the meat is
never refused when we can purchase it, as it seems to ease the feeling
of fatigue which jungle-fruit and fare engenders. The appetite in this
country is always very keen, and makes hunger worse to bear: the want
of salt, probably, makes the gnawing sensation worse.

       *       *       *       *       *

[We now come to a disaster which cannot be exaggerated in importance
when we witness its after effects month by month on Dr. Livingstone.
There can be little doubt that the severity of his subsequent
illnesses mainly turned upon it, and it is hardly too much to believe
that his constitution from this time was steadily sapped by the
effects of fever-poison which he was powerless to counteract, owing to
the want of quinine. In his allusion to Bishop Mackenzie's death, we
have only a further confirmation of the one rule in all such cases
which must be followed, or the traveller in Africa goes--not with his
life in his hand, but in some luckless box, put in the charge of
careless servants. Bishop Mackenzie had all his drugs destroyed by the
upsetting of a canoe, in which was his case of medicines, and in a
moment everything was soaked and spoilt.

It cannot be too strongly urged on explorers that they should divide
their more important medicines in such a way that a _total loss_ shall
become well-nigh impossible. Three or four tin canisters containing
some calomel, Dover's powder, colocynth, and, above all, a supply of
quinine, can be distributed in different packages, and then, if a
mishap occurs similar to that which Livingstone relates, the disaster
is not beyond remedy.]

       *       *       *       *       *

_20th January, 1867._--A guide refused, so we marched without one. The
two Waiyau, who joined us at Kandé's village, now deserted. They had
been very faithful all the way, and took our part in every case.
Knowing the language well, they were extremely useful, and no one
thought that they would desert, for they were free men--their masters
had been killed by the Mazitu--and this circumstance, and their
uniform good conduct, made us trust them more than we should have done
any others who had been slaves. But they left us in the forest, and
heavy rain came on, which obliterated every vestige of their
footsteps. To make the loss the more galling, they took what we could
least spare--the medicine-box, which they would only throw away as
soon as they came to examine their booty. One of these deserters
exchanged his load that morning with a boy called Baraka, who had
charge of the medicine-box, because he was so careful. This was done,
because with the medicine-chest were packed five large cloths and all
Baraka's clothing and beads, of which he was very careful. The Waiyau
also offered to carry this burden a stage to help Baraka, while he
gave his own load, in which there was no cloth, in exchange. The
forest was so dense and high, there was no chance of getting a glimpse
of the fugitives, who took all the dishes, a large box of powder, the
flour we had purchased dearly to help us as far as the Chambezé, the
tools, two guns, and a cartridge-pouch; but the medicine-chest was the
sorest loss of all! I felt as if I had now received the sentence of
death, like poor Bishop Mackenzie.

All the other goods I had divided in case of loss or desertion, but
had never dreamed of losing the precious quinine and other remedies;
other losses and annoyances I felt as just parts of that undercurrent
of vexations which is not wanting in even the smoothest life, and
certainly not worthy of being moaned over in the experience of an
explorer anxious to benefit a country and people--but this loss I feel
most keenly. Everything of this kind happens by the permission of One
who watches over us with most tender care; and this may turn out for
the best by taking away a source of suspicion among more
superstitious, charm-dreading people further north. I meant it as a
source of benefit to my party and to the heathen.

We returned to Lisunga, and got two men off to go back to Chafunga's
village, and intercept the deserters if they went there; but it is
likely that, having our supply of flour, they will give our route a
wide berth and escape altogether. It is difficult to say from the
heart, "Thy will be done;" but I shall try. These Waiyau had few
advantages: sold into slavery in early life, they were in the worst
possible school for learning to be honest and honourable, they behaved
well for a long time; but, having had hard and scanty fare in Lobisa,
wet and misery in passing through dripping forests, hungry nights and
fatiguing days, their patience must have been worn out, and they had
no sentiments of honour, or at least none so strong as we ought to
have; they gave way to the temptation which their good conduct had led
us to put in their way. Some we have come across in this journey
seemed born essentially mean and base--a great misfortune to them and
all who have to deal with them, but they cannot be so blamable as
those who have no natural tendency to meanness, and whose education
has taught them to abhor it. True; yet this loss of the medicine-box
gnaws at the heart terribly.

_21st and 22nd January, 1867._--Remained at Lisunga--raining nearly
all day; and we bought all the maëre the chief would sell. We were now
forced to go on and made for the next village to buy food. Want of
food and rain are our chief difficulties now, more rain falls here on
this northern slope of the upland than elsewhere; clouds come up from
the north and pour down their treasures in heavy thunder-showers,
which deluge the whole country south of the edge of the plateau: the
rain-clouds come from the west chiefly.

_23rd January, 1867._--A march of five and three-quarter hours brought
us yesterday to a village, Chibanda's stockade, where "no food" was
the case, as usual. We crossed a good-sized rivulet, the Mapampa
(probably ten yards wide), dashing along to the east; all the rest of
the way was in dark forest. I sent off the boys to the village of
Muasi to buy food, if successful, to-morrow we march for the Chambezé,
on the other side of which all the reports agree in the statement that
there plenty of food is to be had. We all feel weak and easily tired,
and an incessant hunger teases us, so it is no wonder if so large a
space of this paper is occupied by stomach affairs. It has not been
merely want of nice dishes, but real biting hunger and faintness.

_24th January, 1867._--Four hours through unbroken, dark forest
brought us to the Movushi, which here is a sluggish stream, winding
through and filling a marshy valley a mile wide. It comes from
south-east, and falls into the Chambezé, about 2' north of our
encampment. The village of Moaba is on the east side of the marshy
valley of the Movuhi, and very difficult to be approached, as the
water is chin-deep in several spots. I decided to make sheds on the
west side, and send over for food, which, thanks to the Providence
which watches over us, we found at last in a good supply of maëre and
some ground-nuts; but through, all this upland region the trees
yielding bark-cloth, or _nyanda_, are so abundant, that the people
are all well-clothed with it, and care but little for our cloth. Red
and pink beads are in fashion, and fortunately we have red.

       *       *       *       *       *

[We may here add a few particulars concerning beads, which form such
an important item of currency all through Africa. With a few
exceptions they are all manufactured in Venice. The greatest care must
be exercised, or the traveller--ignorant of the prevailing fashion in
the country he is about to explore--finds himself with an accumulation
of beads of no more value than tokens would be if tendered in this
country for coin of the realm.

Thanks to the kindness of Messrs. Levin & Co., the bead merchants, of
Bevis Marks, E.C., we have been able to get some idea of the more
valuable beads, through a selection made by Susi and Chuma in their
warehouse. The Waiyou prefer exceedingly small beads, the size of
mustard-seed, and of various colours, but they must be opaque: amongst
them dull white chalk varieties, called "Catchokolo," are valuable,
besides black and pink, named, respectively, "Bububu" and
"Sekundereché" = the "dregs of pombe." One red bead, of various sizes,
which has a white centre, is always valuable in every part of Africa.
It is called "Sami-sami" by the Suahélé, "Chitakaraka" by the Waiyou,
"Mangazi," = "blood," by the Nyassa, and was found popular even
amongst the Manyuema, under the name of "Maso-kantussi", "bird's
eyes." Whilst speaking of this distant tribe, it is interesting to
observe that one peculiar long bead, recognised as common in the
Manyuema land, is only sent to the West Coast of Africa, and _never_
to the East. On Chuma pointing to it as a sort found at the extreme
limit explored by Livingstone, it was at once seen that he must have
touched that part of Africa which begins to be within the reach of the
traders in the Portuguese settlements. "Machua Kanga" = "guinea fowl's
eyes," is another popular variety; and the "Moiompio" = "new heart,"
a large pale blue bead, is a favourite amongst the Wabisa; but by far
the most valuable of all is a small white oblong bead, which, when
strung, looks like the joints of the cane root, from which it takes
its name, "Salani" = cane. Susi says that 1 lb. weight of these beads
would buy a tusk of ivory, at the south end of Tanganyika, so big that
a strong man could not carry it more than two hours.]

       *       *       *       *       *

_25th January, 1867._--Remain and get our maëre ground into flour.
Moaba has cattle, sheep, and goats. The other side of the Chambezé has
everything in still greater abundance; so we may recover our lost
flesh. There are buffaloes in this quarter, but we have not got a
glimpse of any. If game was to be had, I should have hunted; but the
hopo way of hunting prevails, and we pass miles of hedges by which
many animals must have perished. In passing-through the forests it is
surprising to see none but old footsteps of the game; but the hopo
destruction accounts for its absence. When the hedges are burned, then
the manured space is planted with pumpkins and calabashes.

I observed at Chibanda's a few green mushrooms, which, on being
peeled, showed a pink, fleshy inside; they are called "chisimba;" and
only one or two are put into the mortar, in which the women pound the
other kinds, to give relish, it was said, to the mass: I could not
ascertain what properties chisimba had when taken alone; but mushroom
diet, in our experience, is good only for producing dreams of the
roast beef of bygone days. The saliva runs from the mouth in these
dreams, and the pillow is wet with it in the mornings.

These Babisa are full of suspicion; everything has to be paid for
accordingly in advance, and we found that giving a present to a chief
is only putting it in his power to cheat us out of a supper. They give
nothing to each other for nothing, and if this is enlargement of mind
produced by commerce, commend me to the untrading African!

Fish now appear in the rivulets. Higher altitudes have only small
things, not worth catching.

An owl makes the woods resound by night and early morning with his
cries, which consist of a loud, double-initial note, and then a
succession of lower descending notes. Another new bird, or at least
new to me, makes the forests ring.

When the vultures see us making our sheds, they conclude that we have
killed some animal; but after watching awhile, and seeing no meat,
they depart. This is suggestive of what other things prove, that it is
only by sight they are guided.[47]

With respect to the native head-dresses the colouring-matter, "nkola,"
which seems to be camwood, is placed as an ornament on the head, and
some is put on the bark-cloth to give it a pleasant appearance. The
tree, when cut, is burned to bring out the strong colour, and then,
when it is developed, the wood is powdered.

The gum-copal trees now pour out gum where wounded, and I have seen
masses of it fallen on the ground.

_26th January, 1867._--Went northwards along the Movushi, near to its
confluence with Chambezé, and then took lodging in a deserted
temporary village. In the evening I shot a poku, or tsébula,
full-grown male. It measured from snout to insertion of tail, 5 feet
3 inches; tail, 1 foot; height at withers, 3 feet; circumference of
chest, 5 feet; face to insertion of horns, 9-1/2 inches; horns
measured on curve, 16 inches. Twelve rings on horns, and one had a
ridge behind, 1/2 inch broad, 1/2 inch high, and tapering up the horn;
probably accidental. Colour: reddish-yellow, dark points in front of
foot and on the ears, belly nearly white. The shell went through from
behind the shoulder to the spleen, and burst on the other side, yet he
ran 100 yards. I felt very thankful to the Giver of all good for this
meat.

_27th January, 1867._--A set-in rain all the morning, but having meat
we were comfortable in the old huts. In changing my dress this morning
I was frightened at my own emaciation.

_28th January, 1867._--- We went five miles along the Movushi and the
Chambezé to a crossing-place said to avoid three rivers on the other
side, which require canoes just now, and have none. Our lat. 10° 34'
S. The Chambezé was flooded with clear water, but the lines of bushy
trees, which showed its real banks, were not more than forty yards
apart, it showed its usual character of abundant animal life in its
waters and on its banks, as it wended its way westwards. The canoe-man
was excessively suspicious; when prepayment was acceded to, he asked a
piece more, and although he was promised full payment as soon as we
were all safely across he kept the last man on the south side as a
hostage for this bit of calico: he then ran away. They must cheat each
other sadly.

Went northwards, wading across two miles of flooded flats on to which
the _Clarias Capensis_, a species of siluris, comes to forage out of
the river. We had the Likindazi, a sedgy stream, with hippopotami, on
our right. Slept in forest without seeing anyone. Then next day we met
with a party who had come from their village to look for us. We were
now in Lobemba, but these villagers had nothing but hopes of plenty at
Chitapangwa's. This village had half a mile of ooze and sludgy marsh
in front of it, and a stockade as usual. We observed that the people
had great fear of animals at night, and shut the gates carefully, of
even temporary villages. When at Molemba (Chitapangwa's village)
afterwards, two men were killed by a lion, and great fear of
crocodiles was expressed by our canoe-man at the Chambezé, when one
washed in the margin of that river. There was evidence of abundance of
game, elephants, and buffaloes, but we saw none.

_29th January, 1867._--When near our next stage end we were shown
where lightning had struck; it ran down a gum-copal tree without
damaging it, then ten yards horizontally, and dividing there into two
streams it went up an anthill; the withered grass showed its course
very plainly, and next day (31st), on the banks of the Mabula, we saw
a dry tree which had been struck; large splinters had been riven off
and thrown a distance of sixty yards in one direction and thirty yards
in another: only a stump was left, and patches of withered grass where
it had gone horizontally.

_30th January, 1867._--Northwards through almost trackless dripping
forests and across oozing bogs.

_31st January, 1867._--Through forest, but gardens of larger size than
in Lobisa now appear. A man offered a thick bar of copper for sale, a
foot by three inches. The hard-leafed acacia and mohempi abound. The
valleys, with the oozes, have a species of grass, having pink
seed-stalks and yellow seeds: this is very pretty. At midday we came
to the Lopiri, the rivulet which waters Chitapanga's stockade, and
soon after found that his village has a triple stockade, the inner
being defended also by a deep broad ditch and hedge of a solanaceous
thorny shrub. It is about 200 yards broad and 500 long. The huts not
planted very closely.

The rivulets were all making for the Chambezé. They contain no fish,
except very small ones--probably fry. On the other, or western side
of the ridge, near which "Malemba" is situated, fish abound worth
catching.

[Illustration: Chitapangwa]

Chitapangwa, or Motoka, as he is also called, sent to inquire if we
wanted an audience. "We must take something in our hands the first
time we came before so great a man." Being tired from marching, I
replied, "Not till the evening," and sent notice at 5 P.M. of my
coming. We passed through the inner stockade, and then on to an
enormous hut, where sat Chitapangwa, with three drummers and ten or
more men, with two rattles in their hands. The drummers beat
furiously, and the rattlers kept time to the drums, two of them
advancing and receding in a stooping posture, with rattles near the
ground, as if doing the chief obeisance, but still keeping time with
the others. I declined to sit on the ground, and an enormous tusk was
brought for me. The chief saluted courteously. He has a fat jolly
face, and legs loaded with brass and copper leglets. I mentioned our
losses by the desertion of the Waiyau, but his power is merely
nominal, and he could do nothing. After talking awhile he came along
with us to a group of cows, and pointed out one. "That is yours," said
he. The tusk on which I sat was sent after me too as being mine,
because I had sat upon it. He put on my cloth as token of acceptance,
and sent two large baskets of sorghum to the hut afterwards, and then
sent for one of the boys to pump him after dark.

[Illustration: Chitapangwa's Wives.]

_1st February, 1867._--We found a small party of black Arab
slave-traders here from Bagamoio on the coast, and as the chief had
behaved handsomely as I thought, I went this morning and gave him one
of our best cloths; but when we were about to kill the cow, a man
interfered and pointed out a smaller one. I asked if this was by the
orders of the chief. The chief said that the man had lied, but I
declined to take any cow at all if he did not give it willingly.

The slavers, the headman of whom was Magaru Mafupi, came and said that
they were going off on the 2nd; (_2nd February, 1867_) but by payment
I got them to remain a day, and was all day employed in writing
despatches.

_3rd February, 1867._--Magaru Mafupi left this morning with a packet
of letters, for which he is to get Rs. 10 at Zanzibar.[48] They came
by a much shorter route than we followed, in fact, nearly due west or
south-west; but not a soul would tell us of this way of coming into
the country when we were at Zanzibar. Bagamoio is only six hours north
of Kurdary Harbour. It is possible that the people of Zanzibar did not
know of it themselves, as this is the first time they have come so
far. The route is full of villages and people who have plenty of
goats, and very cheap. They number fifteen stations, or sultans, as
they call the chiefs, and will be at Bagamoio in two months:--1.
Chasa; 2. Lombé; 3. Ucheré; 4. Nyamiro; 5. Zonda; 6. Zambi; 7. Lioti;
8. Méreré; 9. Kirangabana; 10. Nkongozi; 11. Sombogo; 12. Suré; 13.
Lomolasenga; 14. Kapass; 15, Chanzé. They are then in the country
adjacent to Bagamoio. Some of these places are two or three days apart
from each other.

They came to three large rivers: 1. Wembo; 2. Luaha; 3. Luvo; but I
had not time to make further inquiries. They had one of Speke's
companions to Tanganyika with them, named Janjé, or Janja, who could
imitate a trumpet by blowing into the palm of his hand. I ordered
another supply of cloth and beads, and I sent for a small quantity of
coffee, sugar, candles, French preserved meats, a cheese in tin, six
bottles of port-wine, quinine, calomel, and resin of jalap, to be sent
to Ujiji.

I proposed to go a little way east with this route to buy goats, but
Chitapangwa got very angry, saying, I came only to show my things, and
would buy nothing: he then altered his tone, and requested me to take
the cow first presented and eat it, and as we were all much in need I
took it. We were to give only what we liked in addition; but this was
a snare, and when I gave two more cloths he sent them back, and
demanded a blanket. The boys alone have blankets; so I told him these
were not slaves, and I could not take from them what I had once given.
Though it is disagreeable to be thus victimized, it is the first time
we have tasted fat for six weeks and more.

_6th February, 1867._--Chitapangwa came with his wife to see the
instruments which I explained to them as well as I could, and the
books, as well as the Book of Books, and to my statements he made
intelligent remarks. The boys are sorely afraid of him. When Abraham
does not like to say what I state, he says to me "I don't know the
proper word;" but when I speak without him, he soon finds them. He and
Simon thought that talking in a cringing manner was the way to win him
over, so I let them try it with a man he sent to communicate with us,
and the result was this fellow wanted to open their bundles, pulled
them about, and kept them awake most of the night. Abraham came at
night: "Sir, what shall I do? they won't let me sleep." "You have had
your own way," I replied, "and must abide by it." He brought them over
to me in the morning, but I soon dismissed both him and them.

_7th February, 1867._--I sent to the chief either to come to me or say
Avhen I should come to him and talk; the answer I got was that he
would come when shaved, but he afterwards sent a man to hear what I
had to advance--this I declined, and when the rain ceased I went
myself.

On coming into his hut I stated that I had given him four times the
value of his cow, but if he thought otherwise, let us take the four
cloths to his brother Moamba, and if he said that I had not given
enough, I would buy a cow and send it back. This he did not relish at
all. "Oh, great Englishman! why should we refer a dispute to an
inferior. I am the great chief of all this country. Ingleze mokolu,
you are sorry that you have to give so much for the ox you have eaten.
You would not take a smaller, and therefore I gratified your heart by
giving the larger; and why should not you gratify my heart by giving
cloth sufficient to cover me, and please me?"

I said that my cloths would cover him, and his biggest wife too all
over, he laughed at this, but still held out; and as we have meat, and
he sent maize and calabashes, I went away. He turns round now, and
puts the blame of greediness on me. I cannot enter into his ideas, or
see his point of view; cannot, in fact, enter into his ignorance, his
prejudices, or delusions, so it is impossible to pronounce a true
judgment. One who has no humour cannot understand one who has: this is
an equivalent case.

Rain and clouds so constantly, I could not get our latitude till last
night, 10° 14' 6" S. On 8th got lunars. Long. 31° 46' 45" E. Altitude
above sea, 4700 feet, by boiling-point and barometer.

_8th February, 1867._--The chief demands one of my boxes and a
blanket; I explain that one day's rain would spoil the contents, and
the boys who have blankets, not being slaves, I cannot take from them
what I have given. I am told that he declares that he will take us
back to the Loangwa; make war and involve us in it, deprive us of
food, &c.: this succeeds in terrifying the boys. He thinks that we
have some self-interest to secure in passing through the country, and
therefore he has a right to a share in the gain. When told it was for
a public benefit, he pulled down the underlid of the right eye.[49] He
believes we shall profit by our journey, though he knows not in what
way.

It is possibly only a coincidence, but no sooner do we meet with one
who accompanied Speke and Burton to Tanganyika, than the system of
mulcting commences. I have no doubt but that Janjé told this man how
his former employers paid down whatever was demanded of them.

_10th February, 1867._--I had service in the open air, many looking
on, and spoke afterwards to the chief, but he believes nothing save
what Speke and Burton's man has told him. He gave us a present of corn
and ground-nuts, and says he did not order the people not to sell
grain to us. We must stop and eat green maize. He came after evening
service, and I explained a little to him, and showed him woodcuts in
the 'Bible Dictionary,' which he readily understood.

_11th February, 1867._--The chief sent us a basket of hippopotamus
flesh from the Chambezé, and a large one of green maize. He says the
three cloths I offered are still mine: all he wants is a box and
blanket; if not a blanket, a box must be given, a tin one. He keeps
out of my way, by going to the gardens every morning. He is
good-natured, and our intercourse is a laughing one; but the boys
betray their terrors in their tone of voice, and render my words
powerless.

The black and white, and the brownish-grey water wagtails are
remarkably tame. They come about the huts and even into them, and no
one ever disturbs them. They build their nests about the huts. In the
Bechuana country, a fine is imposed on any man whose boys kill one,
but why, no one can tell me. The boys with me aver that they are not
killed, because the meat is not eaten! or because they are so tame!!

_13th February, 1867._--I gave one of the boxes at last, Chitapangwa
offering a heavy Arab wooden one to preserve our things, which I
declined to take, as I parted with our own partly to lighten a load.
Abraham unwittingly told me that he had not given me the chiefs
statement in full when he pressed me to take his cow. It was, "Take
and eat the one you like, and give me a blanket." Abraham said "He has
no blanket." Then he said to me, "Take it and eat it, and give him any
pretty thing you like." I was thus led to mistake the chief, and he,
believing that he had said explicitly he wanted a blanket for it,
naturally held out. It is difficult to get these lads to say what one
wants uttered: either with enormous self-conceit, they give different,
and, as they think, better statements, suppress them altogether, or
return false answers: this is the great and crowning difficulty of my
intercourse.

I got ready to go, but the chief was very angry, and came with all his
force, exclaiming that I wanted to leave against his will and power,
though he wished to adjust matters, and send me away nicely. He does
not believe that we have no blankets. It is hard to be kept waiting
here, but all may be for the best: it has always turned out so, and I
trust in Him on whom I can cast all my cares. The Lord look on this
and help me. Though I have these nine boys, I feel quite alone.

I gave the chief some seeds, peas, and beans, for which he seemed
thankful, and returned little presents of food and beer frequently.
The beer of maëre is stuffed full of the growing grain as it begins to
sprout, it is as thick as porridge, very strong and bitter, and goes
to the head, requiring a strong digestion to overcome it.

_February, 1867._--I showed the chief one of the boys' blankets,
which he is willing to part with for two of our cloths, each of which
is larger than it, but he declines to receive it, because we have new
ones. I invited him, since he disbelieved my assertions, to look in
our bales, and if he saw none, to pay us a fine for the insult: he
consented in a laughing way to give us an ox. All our personal
intercourse has been of the good-natured sort. It is the
communications to the boys, by three men who are our protectors, or
rather spies, that is disagreeable; I won't let them bring those
fellows near me.

_10th February, 1867._--He came early in the morning, and I showed
that I had no blanket, and he took the old one, and said that the
affair was ended. A long misunderstanding would have been avoided, had
Abraham told me fully what the chief said at first.

_16th February, 1867._--The chief offered me a cow for à piece of red
serge, and after a deal of talk and Chitapangwa swearing that no
demand would be made after the bargain was concluded, I gave the
serge, a cloth, and a few beads for a good fat cow. The serge was two
fathoms, a portion of that which Miss Coutts gave me when leaving
England in 1858.

The chief is not so bad, as the boys are so cowardly. They assume a
chirping, piping tone of voice in speaking to him, and do not say what
at last has to be said, because in their cringing souls they believe
they know what should be said better than I do. It does not strike
them in the least that I have grown grey amongst these people; and it
is immense conceit in mere boys to equal themselves to me. The
difficulty is greater, because when I do ask their opinions I only
receive the reply, "It is as you please, sir." Very likely some men of
character may arise and lead them; but such as I have would do little
to civilise.

_17th February, 1867._--Too ill with rheumatic-fever to have service;
this is the first attack of it I ever had--and no medicine! but I
trust in the Lord, who healeth His people.

_18th February, 1867._--This cow we divided at once. The last one we
cooked, and divided a full, hearty meal to all every evening.

The boom--booming of water dashing against or over the rocks is heard
at a good distance from most of the burns in this upland region; hence
it is never quite still.

The rocks here are argillaceous schist, red and white. _(Keel,
Scotticé.)_

_19th February, 1867._--Chitapangwa begged me to stay another day,
that one of the boys might mend his blanket; it has been worn every
night since April, and I, being weak and giddy, consented. A glorious
day of bright sunlight after a night's rain. We scarcely ever have a
twenty-four hours without rain, and never half that period without
thunder.

The camwood (?) is here called molombwa, and grows very abundantly.
The people take the bark, boil, and grind it fine: it is then a
splendid blood-red, and they use it extensively as an ornament,
sprinkling it on the bark-cloth, or smearing it on the head. It is in
large balls, and is now called mkola. The tree has pinnated, alternate
lanceolate, leaves, and attains a height of 40 or 50 feet, with a
diameter of 15 or 18 inches finely and closely veined above, more
widely beneath.

I am informed by Abraham that the Nyumbo (Numbo or Mumbo) is easily
propagated by cuttings, or by cuttings of the roots. A bunch of the
stalks is preserved in the soil for planting next year, and small
pieces are cut off, and take root easily; it has a pea-shaped flower,
but we never saw the seed. It is very much better here than I have
seen it elsewhere; and James says that in his country it is quite
white and better still; what I have seen is of a greenish tinge after
it is boiled.

[Amongst the articles brought to the coast the men took care not to
lose a number of seeds which they found in Dr. Livingstone's boxes
after his death. These have been placed in the hands of the
authorities at Kew, and we may hope that in some instances they have
maintained vitality.

It is a great pity that there is such a lack of enterprise in the
various European settlements on the East Coast of Africa. Were it
otherwise a large trade in valuable woods and other products would
assuredly spring up. Ebony and lignum vitae abound; Dr. Livingstone
used hardly any other fuel when he navigated the _Pioneer_, and no
wood was found to make such "good steam." India-rubber may be had for
the collecting, and we see that even the natives know some of the
dye-woods, besides which the palm-oil tree is found, indigo is a weed
everywhere, and coffee is indigenous.]

FOOTNOTES:

[36] In coming to cross roads it is the custom of the leader to "mark"
all side paths and wrong turnings by making a scratch across them with
his spear, or by breaking a branch and laying it across: in this way
those who follow are able to avoid straying off the proper road.--ED.

[37] Heleotragus Vardonii.

[38] The tamarind does the same thing in the heat of the day.

[39] A species of kingfisher, which stands flapping its wings and
attempting to sing in a ridiculous manner. It never was better
described than by one observer who, after watching it through its
performance, said it was "a toy-shoppy bird."--ED.

[40] Not the great chief near Lake Moero of the same name.

[41] This extraordinary bird flies from tree to tree in front of the
hunter, chirrupping loudly, and will not be content till he arrives at
the spot where the bees'-nest is; it then waits quietly till the honey
is taken, and feeds on the broken morsels of comb which fall to its
share.

[42] Eleusine Coracana.

[43] It may not be altogether without interest to state that
Livingstone could fall asleep when he wished at the very shortest
notice. A mat, and a shady tree under which to spread it, would at any
time afford him a refreshing sleep, and this faculty no doubt
contributed much to his great powers of endurance.--ED.

[44] When the elephant becomes confused by the yelping pack of dogs
with which he is surrounded, the hunter stealthily approaches behind,
and with one blow of a sharp axe hamstrings the huge beast.--ED.

[45] Raphia.

[46] Top of mountain (barometer) 6338 feat.

[47] The experience of all African sportsmen tends towards the same
conclusion. Vultures probably have their beats high overhead in the
sky, too far to be seen by the eye. From this altitude they can watch
a vast tract of country, and whenever the disturbed movements of game
are observed they draw together, and for the first time are seen
wheeling, about at a great height over the spot. So soon as an animal
is killed, every tree is filled with them, but the hunter has only to
cover the meat with boughs or reeds and the vultures are entirely at a
loss--hidden, from view it is hidden altogether: the idea that they
are attracted by their keen sense of smell is altogether
erroneous,--ED.

[48] These letters reached England safely.

[49] It seems almost too ridiculous to believe that we have here the
exact equivalent of the schoolboy's demonstrative "Do you see any
green in my eye?" nevertheless it looks wonderfully like it!--ED.




CHAPTER VIII.

    Chitapangwa's parting oath. Course laid for Lake Tanganyika.
    Moamba's village. Another watershed. The Babemba tribe. Ill with
    fever. Threatening attitude of Chibué's people. Continued
    illness. Reaches cliffs overhanging Lake Liemba. Extreme beauty
    of the scene. Dangerous fit of insensibility. Leaves the Lake.
    Pernambuco cotton. Rumours of war between Arabs and Nsama.
    Reaches Chitimba's village. Presents Sultan's letter to
    principal Arab Harnees. The war in Itawa. Geography of the
    Arabs. Ivory traders and slave-dealers. Appeal to the Koran.
    Gleans intelligence of the Wasongo to the eastward, and their
    chief, Meréré. Harnees sets out against Nsama. Tedious sojourn.
    Departure for Ponda. Native cupping.


_20th February, 1867._--I told the chief before starting that my heart
was sore, because he was not sending me away so cordially as I liked.
He at once ordered men to start with us, and gave me a brass knife
with ivory sheath, which he had long worn, as a memorial. He explained
that we ought to go north as, if we made easting, we should ultimately
be obliged to turn west, and all our cloth would be expended ere we
reached the Lake Tanganyika; he took a piece of clay off the ground
and rubbed it on his tongue as an oath that what he said was true, and
came along with us to see that all was right; and so we parted.

We soon ascended the plateau, which encloses with its edge the village
and stream of Molemba. Wild pigs are abundant, and there are marks of
former cultivation. A short march brought us to an ooze, surrounded by
hedges, game-traps, and pitfalls, where, as we are stiff and weak, we
spend the night. Rocks abound of the same dolomite kind as on the
ridge further south, between the Loangwa and Chambezé, covered, like
them, with lichens, orchids, euphorbias, and upland vegetation,
hard-leaved acacias, rhododendrons, masukos. The gum-copal tree, when
perforated by a grub, exudes from branches no thicker than one's arm,
masses of soft, gluey-looking gum, brownish yellow, and light grey, as
much as would fill a soup-plate. It seems to yield this gum only in
the rainy season, and now all the trees are full of sap and gum.

_21st February, 1867._--A night with loud and near thunder, and much
heavy rain, which came through the boys' sheds. Roads all plashy or
running with water, oozes full, and rivulets overflowing; rocks of
dolomite jutting out here and there. I noticed growing here a
spikenard-looking shrub, six feet high, and a foot in diameter. The
path led us west against my will. I found one going north; but the
boys pretended that they did not see my mark, and went west, evidently
afraid of incurring Moamba's displeasure by passing him. I found them
in an old hut, and made the best of it by saying nothing. They said
that they had wandered; that was, they had never left the west-going
path.

_22nd February, 1867._--We came to a perennial rivulet running north,
the Merungu. Here we met Moamba's people, but declined going to his
village, as huts are disagreeable; they often have vermin, and one is
exposed to the gaze of a crowd through a very small doorway. The
people in their curiosity often make the place dark, and the impudent
ones offer characteristic remarks, then raise a laugh, and run away.

We encamped on the Meningu's right bank in forest, sending word to
Moamba that we meant to do so. He sent a deputation, first of all his
young men, to bring us; then old men, and lastly he came himself with
about sixty followers. I explained that I had become sick by living
in a little hut at Molemba; that I was better in the open air; that
huts contained vermin; and that I did not mean to remain any while
here, but go on our way. He pressed us to come to his village, and
gave us a goat and kid, with a huge calabashful of beer. I promised to
go over and visit him next day; and went accordingly.

_23rd February, 1867._--Moamba's village was a mile off, and on the
left bank of the Merengé, a larger stream than the Merungu flowing
north and having its banks and oozes covered with fine, tall,
straight, evergreen trees. The village is surrounded with a stockade,
and a dry ditch some fifteen or twenty feet wide, and as many deep. I
had a long talk with Moamba, a big, stout, public-house-looking
person, with a slight outward cast in his left eye, but intelligent
and hearty. I presented him with a cloth; and he gave me as much maëre
meal as a man could carry, with a large basket of ground-nuts. He
wished us to come to the Merengé, if not into his village, that he
might see and talk with me: I also showed him some pictures in Smith's
'Bible Dictionary,' which he readily understood, and I spoke to him
about the Bible. He asked me "to come next day and tell him about
prayer to God," this was a natural desire after being told that we
prayed.

He was very anxious to know why we were going to Tanganyika; for what
we came; what we should buy there; and if I had any relations there.
He then showed me some fine large tusks, eight feet six in length.
"What do you wish to buy, if not slaves or ivory?" I replied, that the
only thing I had seen worth buying was a fine fat chief like him, as a
specimen, and a woman feeding him, as he had, with beer. He was
tickled at this; and said that when we reached our country, I must put
fine clothes on him. This led us to speak of our climate, and the
production of wool.

_24th February, 1867._--I went over after service, but late, as the
rain threatened to be heavy. A case was in process of hearing, and one
old man spoke an hour on end, the chief listening all the while with
the gravity of a judge. He then delivered his decision in about five
minutes, the successful litigant going off lullilooing. Each person,
before addressing him, turns his back to him and lies down on the
ground, clapping the hands: this is the common mode of salutation.
Another form here in Lobemba is to rattle the arrows or an arrow on
the bow, which all carry. We had a little talk with the chief; but it
was late before the cause was heard through. He asked us to come and
spend one night near him on the Merenga, and then go on, so we came
over in the morning to the vicinity of his village. A great deal of
copper-wire is here made, the wire-drawers using for one part of the
process a seven-inch cable. They make very fine wire, and it is used
chiefly as leglets and anklets; the chief's wives being laden with
them, and obliged to walk in a stately style from the weight: the
copper comes from Katanga.

_26th February, 1867._--The chief wishes to buy a cloth with two
goats, but his men do not bring them up quickly. Simon, one of the
boys, is ill of fever, and this induces me to remain, though moving
from one place to another is the only remedy we have in our power.

With the chief's men we did not get on well, but with himself all was
easy. His men demanded prepayment for canoes to cross the river
Loömbé; but in the way that he put it, the request was not
unreasonable, as he gave a man to smooth our way, and get canoes, or
whatever else was needed, all the way to Chibué's. I gave a cloth when
he put it thus, and he presented a goat, a spear ornamented with
copper-wire, abundance of meal, and beer, and numbo; so we parted good
friends, as his presents were worth the cloth.

Holding a north-westerly course we met with the Chikosho flowing
west, and thence came to the Likombé by a high ridge called Losauswa,
which runs a long way westward. It is probably a watershed between
streams going to the Chambezé and those that go to the northern
rivers.

We have the Locopa, Loömbé, Nikéléngé, then Lofubu or Lovu; the last
goes north into Liembe, but accounts are very confused. The Chambezé
rises in the Mambivé country, which is north-east of Moamba, but near
to it.

The forest through which we passed was dense, but scrubby; trees
unhealthy and no drainage except through oozes. On the keel which
forms a clay soil the rain runs off, and the trees attain a large
size. The roads are not soured by the slow process of the ooze
drainage. At present all the slopes having loamy or sandy soil are
oozes, and full to overflowing; a long time is required for them to
discharge their contents. The country generally may be called one
covered with forest.

_6th March, 1867._--We came after a short march to a village on the
Molilanga, flowing east into the Loömbé, here we meet with bananas for
the first time, called, as in Lunda, nkondé. A few trophies from
Mazitu are hung up: Chitapangwa had twenty-four skulls ornamenting his
stockade. The Babemba are decidedly more warlike than any of the
tribes south of them: their villages are stockaded, and have deep dry
ditches round them, so it is likely that Mochimbé will be effectually
checked, and forced to turn his energies to something else than to
marauding.

Our man from Moamba here refused to go further, and we were put on the
wrong track by the headman wading through three marshes, each at least
half a mile broad. The people of the first village we came to shut
their gates on us, then came running after us; but we declined to
enter their village: it is a way of showing their independence. We
made our sheds on a height in spite of their protests. They said that
the gates were shut by the boys; but when I pointed out the boy who
had done it, he said that he had been ordered to do it by the chief.
If we had gone in now we should have been looked on as having come
under considerable obligations.

_8th March, 1867._--We went on to a village on the Loömbé, where the
people showed an opposite disposition, for not a soul was in it--all
were out at their farms. When the good wife of the place came she gave
us all huts, which saved us from a pelting shower. The boys herding
the goats did not stir as we passed down the sides of the lovely
valley. The Loömbé looks a sluggish stream from a distance. The
herdsman said we were welcome, and he would show the crossing next
day, he also cooked some food for us.

Guided by our host, we went along the Loömbé westwards till we reached
the bridge (rather a rickety affair), which, when the water is low may
be used as a weir. The Loömbé main stream is 66 feet wide, 6 feet
deep, with at least 200 feet of flood beyond it. The water was knee
deep on the bridge, but clear; the flooded part beyond was waist deep
and the water flowing fast.

All the people are now transplanting tobacco from the spaces under the
eaves of the huts into the fields. It seems unable to bear the greater
heat of summer: they plant also a kind of liranda, proper for the cold
weather. We thought that we were conferring a boon in giving peas, but
we found them generally propagated all over the country already, and
in the cold time too. We went along the Diola River to an old hut and
made a fire; thence across country to another river, called Loendawé,
6 feet wide, and 9 feet deep.

_10th March, 1867._--I have been ill of fever ever since we left
Moamba's; every step I take jars in the chest, and I am very weak; I
can scarcely keep up the march, though formerly I was always first,
and had to hold in my pace not to leave the people altogether. I have
a constant singing in the ears, and can scarcely hear the loud tick
of the chronometers. The appetite is good, but we have no proper food,
chiefly maëre meal or beans, or mapemba or ground-nuts, rarely a fowl.

The country is full of hopo-hedges, but the animals are harassed, and
we never see them.

_11th March, 1867._.--Detained by a set-in rain. Marks on masses of
dolomite elicited the information that a party of Londa smiths came
once to this smelting ground and erected their works here. We saw an
old iron furnace, and masses of haematite, which seems to have been
the ore universally used.

_12th March, 1867._--Rain held us back for some time, but we soon
reached Chibué, a stockaded village. Like them all, it is situated by
a stream, with a dense clump of trees on the waterside of some species
of mangrove. They attain large size, have soft wood, and succulent
leaves; the roots intertwine in the mud, and one has to watch that he
does not step where no roots exist, otherwise he sinks up to the
thigh. In a village the people feel that we are on their property, and
crowd upon us inconveniently; but outside, where we usually erect our
sheds, no such feeling exists, we are each on a level, and they don't
take liberties.

The Balungu are marked by three or four little knobs on the temples,
and the lobes of the ears are distended by a piece of wood, which is
ornamented with beads; bands of beads go across the forehead and hold
up the hair.

Chibué's village is at the source of the Lokwéna, which goes N. and
N.E.; a long range of low hills is on our N.E., which are the Mambwé,
or part of them. The Chambezé rises in them, but further south. Here
the Lokwéna, round whose source we came on starting this morning to
avoid wet feet, and all others north and west of this, go to the Lofu
or Lobu, and into Liemba Lake. Those from the hills on our right go
east into the Loanzu and so into the Lake.

_15th March, 1867._--We now are making for Kasonso, the chief of the
Lake, and a very large country all around it, passing the Lochenjé,
five yards wide, and knee deep, then to the Chañumba. All flow very
rapidly just now and are flooded with clean water. Everyone carries an
axe, as if constantly warring with the forest. My long-continued fever
ill disposes me to enjoy the beautiful landscape. We are evidently on
the ridge, but people have not a clear conception of where the rivers
run.

_19th March, 1867._--A party of young men came out of the village near
which we had encamped to force us to pay something for not going into
their village. "The son of a great chief ought to be acknowledged,"
&c. They had their bows and arrows with them, and all ready for
action. I told them we had remained near them because they said we
could not reach Kasonso that day. Their headman had given us nothing.
After talking a while, and threatening to do a deal to-morrow, they
left, and through an Almighty Providence nothing was attempted. We
moved on N.W. in forest, with long green tree-covered slopes on our
right, and came to a village of Kasonso in a very lovely valley. Great
green valleys were now scooped out, and many, as the Kakanza, run into
the Lovu.

_20th March, 1867._--The same features of country prevailed, indeed it
was impossible to count the streams flowing N.W. We found Kasonso
situated at the confluence of two streams; he shook hands a long
while, and seems a frank sort of man. A shower of rain set the driver
ants on the move, and about two hours after we had turned in we were
overwhelmed by them. They are called Kalandu or Nkalanda.

To describe this attack is utterly impossible. I wakened covered with
them: my hair was full of them. One by one they cut into the flesh,
and the more they are disturbed, the more vicious are their bites;
they become quite insolent. I went outside the hut, but there they
swarmed everywhere; they covered the legs, biting furiously; it is
only when they are tired that they leave off.

One good trait of the Balungu up here is, they retire when they see
food brought to anyone, neither Babisa nor Makoa had this sense of
delicacy: the Babemba are equally polite.

We have descended considerably into the broad valley of the Lake, and
it feels warmer than on the heights. Cloth here is more valuable,
inasmuch as bark-cloth is scarce. The skins of goats and wild animals
are used, and the kilt is very diminutive among the women.

_22nd March, 1867._--Cross Loéla, thirty feet wide and one deep, and
meet with tsetse fly, though we have seen none since we left
Chitapangwa's. Kasonso gave us a grand reception, and we saw men
present from Tanganyika; I saw cassava here, but not in plenty.

_28th March, 1867._--Set-in rain and Chuma fell ill. There are cotton
bushes of very large size here of the South American kind. After
sleeping in various villages and crossing numerous streams, we came to
Mombo's village, near the ridge overlooking the Lake.

_31st March, and 1st April, 1867._--I was too ill to march through. I
offered to go on the 1st, but Kasonso's son, who was with us,
objected. We went up a low ridge of hills at its lowest part, and soon
after passing the summit the blue water loomed through the trees. I
was detained, but soon heard the boys firing their muskets on reaching
the edge of the ridge, which allowed of an undisturbed view. This is
the south-eastern end of Liemba, or, as it is sometimes called,
Tanganyika.[50] We had to descend at least 2000 feet before we got to
the level of the Lake. It seems about eighteen or twenty miles broad,
and we could see about thirty miles up to the north. Four considerable
rivers flow into the space before us. The nearly perpendicular ridge
of about 2000 feet extends with breaks all around, and there,
embosomed in tree-covered rocks, reposes the Lake peacefully in the
huge cup-shaped cavity.

I never saw anything so still and peaceful as it lies all the morning.
About noon a gentle breeze springs up, and causes the waves to assume
a bluish tinge. Several rocky islands rise in the eastern end, which
are inhabited by fishermen, who capture abundance of fine large fish,
of which they enumerate about twenty-four species. In the north it
seems to narrow into a gateway, but the people are miserably deficient
in geographical knowledge, and can tell us nothing about it. They
suspect us, and we cannot get information, or indeed much of anything
else. I feel deeply thankful at having got so far. I am excessively
weak--cannot walk without tottering, and have constant singing in the
head, but the Highest will lead me further.

Lat. of the spot we touched at first, 2nd April, 1867. Lat. 8° 46' 54"
S., long. 31° 57'; but I only worked out (and my head is out of order)
one set of observations. Height above level of the sea over 2800 feet,
by boiling-point thermometers and barometer. The people won't let me
sound the Lake.

After being a fortnight at this Lake it still appears one of
surpassing loveliness. Its peacefulness is remarkable, though at times
it is said to be lashed up by storms. It lies in a deep basin whose
sides are nearly perpendicular, but covered well with trees; the rocks
which appear are bright red argillaceous schist; the trees at present
all green: down some of these rocks come beautiful cascades, and
buffaloes, elephants, and antelopes wander and graze on the more level
spots, while lions roar by night. The level place below is not two
miles from the perpendicular. The village (Pambété), at which we
first touched the Lake, is surrounded by palm-oil trees--not the
stunted ones of Lake Nyassa, but the real West Coast palm-oil
tree,[51] requiring two men to carry a bunch of the ripe fruit. In the
morning and evening huge crocodiles may be observed quietly making
their way to their feeding grounds; hippopotami snort by night and at
early morning.

After I had been a few days here I had a fit of insensibility, which
shows the power of fever without medicine. I found myself floundering
outside my hut and unable to get in; I tried to lift myself from my
back by laying hold of two posts at the entrance, but when I got
nearly upright I let them go, and fell back heavily on my head on a
box. The boys had seen the wretched state I was in, and hung a blanket
at the entrance of the hut, that no stranger might see my
helplessness; some hours elapsed before I could recognize where I was.

As for these Balungu, as they are called, they have a fear of us, they
do not understand our objects, and they keep aloof. They promise
everything and do nothing; but for my excessive weakness we should go
on, but we wait for a recovery of strength.

As people they are greatly reduced in numbers by the Mazitu, who
carried off very large numbers of the women, boys, girls, and
children. They train or like to see the young men arrayed as Mazitu,
but it would be more profitable if they kept them to agriculture. They
are all excessively polite. The clapping of hands on meeting is
something excessive, and then the string of salutations that accompany
it would please the most fastidious Frenchman. It implies real
politeness, for in marching with them they always remove branches out
of the path, and indicate stones or stumps in it carefully to a
stranger, yet we cannot prevail on them to lend carriers to examine
the Lake or to sell goats, of which, however, they have very few, and
all on one island.

The Lake discharges its water north-westward or rather
nor-north-westwards. We observe weeds going in that direction, and as
the Lonzua, the Kowé, the Kapata, the Luazé, the Kalambwé, flow into
it near the east end, and the Lovu or Lofubu, or Lofu, from the
south-west near the end it must find an exit for so much water. All
these rivers rise in or near the Mambwé country, in lat. 10° S.,
where, too, the Chambezé rises. Liemba is said to remain of about the
same size as we go north-west, but this we shall see for ourselves.

Elephants come all about us. One was breaking trees close by. I fired
into his ear without effect: I am too weak to hold the gun steadily.

_30th April, 1867._--We begin our return march from Liemba. Slept at a
village on the Lake, and went on next day to Pambété, where we first
touched it. I notice that here the people pound tobacco-leaves in a
mortar after they have undergone partial fermentation by lying in the
sun, then they put the mass in the sun to dry for use.

The reason why no palm-oil trees grow further east than Pambété is
said to be the stony soil there, and this seems a valid one, for it
loves rich loamy meadows.

_1st May, 1867._--We intended to go north-west to see whether this
Lake narrows or not, for all assert that it maintains its breadth such
as we see it beyond Pemba as far as they know it; but when about to
start the headman and his wife came and protested so solemnly that by
going N.W. we should walk into the hands of a party of Mazitu there,
that we deferred our departure. It was not with a full persuasion of
the truth of the statement that I consented, but we afterwards saw
good evidence that it was true, and that we were saved from being
plundered. These marauders have changed their tactics, for they
demand so many people, and so many cloths, and then leave. They made
it known that their next scene of mulcting would be Mombo's village,
and there they took twelve people--four slaves, and many cloths, then
went south to the hills they inhabit. A strict watch was kept on their
movements by our headman and his men. They trust to fleeing into a
thicket on the west of the village should the Mazitu come.

I have been informed on good authority that Kasonso was on his way to
us when news arrived that his young son had died. He had sent on beer
and provisions for us, but the Mazitu intervening they were consumed.

The Mazitu having left we departed and slept half-way up the ridge. I
had another fit of insensibility last night: the muscles of the back
lose all power,[52] and there is constant singing in the ears, and
inability to do the simplest sum. Cross the Aeezé (which makes the
waterfall) fifteen yards wide and knee deep. The streams like this are
almost innumerable.

Mombo's village. It is distressingly difficult to elicit accurate
information about the Lake and rivers, because the people do not think
accurately. Mombo declared that two Arabs came when we were below, and
inquired for us, but he denied our presence, thinking thereby to save
us trouble and harm.

The cotton cultivated is of the Pernambuco species, and the bushes are
seven or eight feet high. Much cloth was made in these parts before
the Mazitu raids began, it was striped black and white, and many
shawls are seen in the country yet. It is curious that this species of
cotton should be found only in the middle of this country.

In going westwards on the upland the country is level and covered
with scraggy forest as usual, long lines of low hills or rather ridges
of denudation run. N. and S. on our east. This is called Moami
country, full of elephants, but few are killed. They do much damage,
eating the sorghum in the gardens unmolested.

_11th May, 1867._--A short march to-day brought us to a village on the
same Moami, and to avoid a Sunday in the forest we remained. The
elephants had come into the village and gone all about it, and to
prevent their opening the corn safes the people had bedaubed them with
elephant's droppings. When a cow would not give milk, save to its
calf, a like device was used at Kolobeng; the cow's droppings were
smeared on the teats, and the calf was too much disgusted to suck: the
cow then ran till she was distressed by the milk fever and was willing
to be relieved by the herdsman.

_12th and 13th May, 1867._--News that the Arabs had been fighting with
Nsama came, but this made us rather anxious to get northward along
Liemba, and we made for Mokambola's village near the edge of the
precipice which overhangs the Lake. Many Shuaré Raphia palms grow in
the river which flows past it.

As we began our descent we saw the Lofu coming from the west and
entering Liemba. A projection of Liemba comes to meet it, and then it
is said to go away to the north or north-west as far as my informants
knew. Some pointed due north, others north-west, so probably its true
course amounts to N.N.W. We came to a village about 2' W. of the
confluence, whose headman was affable and generous. The village has a
meadow some four miles wide on the land side, in which buffaloes
disport themselves, but they are very wild, and hide in the gigantic
grasses. Sorghum, ground-nuts, and voandzeia grow luxuriantly. The
Lofu is a quarter of a mile wide, but higher up three hundred yards.
The valley was always clouded over at night so I could not get an
observation except early in the morning when the cold had dissipated
the clouds.

We remained here because two were lame, and all tired by the descent
of upwards of 2000 feet, and the headman sent for fish for us. He
dissuaded us strongly from attempting to go down the Liemba, as the
son of Nsania (Kapoma) was killing all who came that way in revenge
for what the Arabs had done to his father's people, and he might take
us for Arabs. A Suaheli Arab came in the evening and partly confirmed
the statements of the headman of Karambo; I resolved therefore to go
back to Chitimba's in the south, where the chief portion of the Arabs
are assembled, and hear from them more certainly.

The last we heard of Liemba was that at a great way north-west, it is
dammed up by rocks, and where it surmounts these there is a great
waterfall. It does not, it is said, diminish in size so far, but by
bearings protracted it is two miles wide.

_18th May, 1867._--Return to Mokambola's village, and leave for
Chitimba's. Baraka stopped behind at the village, and James ran away
to him, leaving his bundle, containing three chronometers, in the
path: I sent back for them, and James came up in the evening; he had
no complaint, and no excuse to make. The two think it will be easy to
return to their own country by begging, though they could not point it
out to me when we were much nearer to where it is supposed to be.

_19th May, 1867._--Where we were brought to a standstill was miserably
cold (55°), so we had prayers and went on S. and S.W. to the village
of Chisáka.

_20th May, 1867._--Chitimba's village was near in the same direction;
here we found a large party of Arabs, mostly black Suahelis. They
occupied an important portion of the stockaded village, and when I
came in, politely showed me to a shed where they are in the habit of
meeting. After explaining whence I had come, I showed them the
Sultan's letter. Harnees presented a goat, two fowls, and a quantity
of flour. It was difficult to get to the bottom of the Nsama affair,
but according to their version that chief sent an invitation to them,
and when they arrived called for his people, who came in crowds--as he
said to view the strangers. I suspect that the Arabs became afraid of
the crowds and began to fire; several were killed on both sides, and
Nsama fled, leaving his visitors in possession of the stockaded
village and all it contained. Others say that there was a dispute
about an elephant, and that Nsama's people were the aggressors. At any
rate it is now all confusion; those who remain at Nsama's village help
themselves to food in the surrounding villages and burn them, while
Chitimba has sent for the party who are quartered here to come to him.
An hour or two after we arrived a body of men came from Kasonso, with
the intention of proceeding into the country of Nsama, and if possible
catching Nsama, "he having broken public law by attacking people who
brought merchandise into the country." This new expedition makes the
Arabs resolve to go and do what they can to injure their enemy. It
will just be a plundering foray--each catching what he can, whether
animal or human, and retiring when it is no longer safe to plunder!

This throws the barrier of a broad country between me and Lake "Moero"
in the west, but I trust in Providence a way will be opened. I think
now of going southwards and then westwards, thus making a long détour
round the disturbed district.

The name of the principal Arab is Hamees Wodim Tagh, the other is Syde
bin Alie bin Mansure: they are connected with one of the most
influential native mercantile houses in Zanzibar. Hamees has been
particularly kind to me in presenting food, beads, cloth, and getting
information. Thami bin Snaelim is the Arab to whom my goods are
directed at Ujiji.

_24th May, 1867._--At Chitimba's we are waiting to see what events
turn up to throw light on our western route. Some of the Arabs and
Kasonso's men went off to-day: they will bring information perhaps as
to Nsama's haunts, and then we shall move south and thence west. Wrote
to Sir Thomas Maclear, giving the position of Liemba and to Dr.
Seward, in case other letters miscarry. The hot season is beginning
now. This corresponds to July further south.

Three goats were killed by a leopard close to the village in open day.

_28th May, 1867._--Information came that Nsama begged pardon of the.
Arabs, and would pay all that they had lost. He did not know of his
people stealing from them: we shall hear in a day or two whether the
matter is to be patched up or not. While some believe his statements,
others say, "Nsama's words of peace are simply to gain time to make
another stockade:" in the mean time Kasonso's people will ravage all
his country on this eastern side.

Hamees is very anxious that I should remain a few days longer, till
Kasonso's son, Kampamba, comes with _certain_ information, and then he
will see to our passing safely to Chiwéré's village from Kasonso's.
All have confidence in this last-named chief as an upright man.

_1st June, 1867._--Another party of marauders went off this morning to
plunder Nsama's country to the west of the confluence of the Lofu as a
punishment for a breach of public law. The men employed are not very
willing to go, but when they taste the pleasure of plunder they will
relish it more!

The watershed begins to have a northern slope about Moamba's, lat. 10°
10' S., but the streams are very tortuous, and the people have very
confused ideas as to where they run. The Lokhopa, for instance, was
asserted by all the men at Moamba's to flow into Lokholu, and then
into a river going to Liemba, but a young wife of Moamba, who seemed
very intelligent, maintained that Lokhopa and Lokholu went to the
Chambezé; I therefore put it down thus. The streams which feed the
Chambezé and the Liemba overlap each other, and it would require a
more extensive survey than I can give to disentangle them.

North of Moamba, on the Merengé, the slope begins to Liemba. The Lofu
rises in Chibué's country, and with its tributaries we have long
ridges of denudation, each some 500 or 600 feet high, and covered with
green trees. The valleys of denudation enclosed by these hill ranges
guide the streams towards Liemba or the four rivers which flow into
it. The country gradually becomes lower, warmer, and tsetse and
mosquitoes appear; so at last we come to the remarkable cup-shaped
cavity in which Liemba reposes. Several streams fall down the nearly
perpendicular cliffs, and form beautiful cascades. The lines of
denudation are continued, one range rising behind another as far as
the eye can reach to the north and east of Liemba, and probably the
slope continues away down to Tanganyika. The watershed extends
westwards to beyond Casembe, and the Luapula, or Chambezé, rises in
the same parallels of latitude as does the Lofu and the Lonzna.

The Arabs inform me that between this and the sea, about 200 miles
distant, lies the country of the Wasango--called: Usango--a fair
people, like Portuguese, and very friendly to strangers. The Wasango
possess plenty of cattle: their chief is called Meréré.[53] They count
this twenty-five days, while the distance thence to the sea at
Bagamoio is one month and twenty-five days--say 440 miles. Uchéré is
very far off northwards, but a man told me that he went to a
salt-manufactory in that direction in eight days from Kasonso's.
Meréré goes frequently on marauding expeditions for cattle, and is
instigated thereto by his mother.

What we understand by primeval forest is but seldom seen in the
interior here, though the country cannot be described otherwise than
as generally covered with interminable forests. Insects kill or dwarf
some trees, and men maim others for the sake of the bark-cloth;
elephants break down a great number, and it is only here and there
that gigantic specimens are seen: they may be expected in shut-in
valleys among mountains, but on the whole the trees are scraggy, and
the varieties not great. The different sorts of birds which sing among
the branches seem to me to exceed those of the Zambesi region, but I
do not shoot them: the number of new notes I hear astonishes me.

The country in which we now are is called by the Arabs and natives
Ulungu, that farther north-west is named Marunga. Hamees is on
friendly terms with the Mazitu (Watuta) in the east, who do not
plunder. The chief sent a man to Kasonso lately, and he having
received a present went away highly pleased.

Hamees is certainly very anxious to secure my safety. Some men came
from the N.E. to inquire about the disturbance here and they recommend
that I should go with them, and then up the east side of the Lake to
Ujiji; but that would ruin my plan of discovering Moero and afterwards
following the watershed, so as to be certain that this is either the
watershed of the Congo or Kile. He was not well pleased when I
preferred to go south and then westwards, as it looks like rejecting
his counsel; but he said if I waited till his people came, then we
should be able to speak with more certainty.

On inquiring if any large mountains exist in this country, I was told
that Moufipa, or Fipa, opposite the lower end of the Lake, is
largest--one can see Tanganyika from it. It probably gives rise to the
Nkalambwé River and the Luazé.

There is nothing interesting in a heathen town. All are busy in
preparing food or clothing, mats or baskets, whilst the women are
cleaning or grinding their corn, which involves much hard labour. They
first dry this in the sun, then put it into a mortar, and afterwards
with a flat basket clean off the husks and the dust, and grind it
between two stones, the next thing is to bring wood and water to cook
it. The chief here was aroused the other day, and threatened to burn
his own house and all his property because the people stole from it,
but he did not proceed so far: it was probably a way of letting the
Arab dependants know that he was aroused.

Some of the people who went to fight attacked a large village, and
killed several men; but in shooting in a bushy place they killed one
of their own party and wounded another.

On inquiring of an Arab who had sailed on Tanganyika which way the
water flowed, he replied to the south!

The wagtails build in the thatch of the huts; they are busy, and men
and other animals are active in the same way.

I am rather perplexed how to proceed. Some Arabs seem determined to go
westwards as soon as they can make it up with Nsama, whilst others
distrust him. One man will send his people to pick up what ivory they
can, but he himself will retire to the Usango country. Nsama is
expected to-day or to-morrow. It would be such a saving of time and
fatigue for us to go due west rather than south, and then west, but I
feel great hesitation as to setting out on the circuitous route.
Several Arabs came from the Liemba side yesterday; one had sailed on
Tanganyika, and described the winds there as very baffling, but no one
of them has a clear idea of the Lake. They described the lower part as
a "sea," and thought it different from Tanganyika.

Close observation of the natives of Ulungu makes me believe them to
be extremely polite. The mode of salutation among relatives is to
place the hands round each other's chests kneeling, they then clap
their hands close to the ground. Some more abject individuals kiss the
soil before a chief; the generality kneel only, with the fore-arms
close to the ground, and the head bowed down to them, saying, "O
Ajadla chiusa, Mari a bwino." The Usanga say, "Ajé senga." The
clapping of hands to superiors, and even equals, is in some villages a
perpetually recurring sound. Aged persons are usually saluted: how
this extreme deference to each other could have arisen, I cannot
conceive; it does not seem to be fear of each other that elicits it.
Even the chiefs inspire no fear, and those cruel old platitudes about
governing savages by fear seem unknown, yet governed they certainly
are, and upon the whole very well. The people were not very willing to
go to punish Nsama's breach of public law, yet, on the decision of the
chiefs, they went, and came back, one with a wooden stool, another
with a mat, a third with a calabash of ground-nuts or some dried meat,
a hoe, or a bow--poor, poor pay for a fortnight's hard work hunting
fugitives and burning villages.

_16th June, 1867._--News came to-day that an Arab party in the
south-west, in Lunda, lost about forty people by the small-pox
("ndué"), and that the people there, having heard of the disturbance
with Nsama, fled from the Arabs, and would sell neither ivory nor
food: this looks like another obstacle to our progress thither.

_17th-19th June, 1867._--Hamees went to meet the party from the
south-west, probably to avoid bringing the small-pox here. They remain
at about two hours' distance. Hamees reports that though the strangers
had lost a great many people by small-pox, they had brought good news
of certain Arabs still further west: one, Seide ben Umale, or Salem,
lived at a village near Casembe, ten days distant, and another, Juma
Merikano, or Katata Katanga, at another village further north, and
Seide ben Habib was at Phueto, which is nearer Tanganyika. This party
comprises the whole force of Hamees, and he now declares that he will
go to Nsama and make the matter up, as he thinks that he is afraid to
come here, and so he will make the first approach to friendship.

On pondering over the whole subject, I see that, tiresome as it is to
wait, it is better to do so than go south and then west, for if I
should go I shall miss seeing Moero, which is said to be three days
from Nsama's present abode. His people go there for salt, and I could
not come to it from the south without being known to them, and perhaps
considered to be an Arab. Hamees remarked that it was the Arab way
first to smooth the path before entering upon it; sending men and
presents first, thereby ascertaining the disposition of the
inhabitants. He advises patience, and is in hopes of making a peace
with Nsama. That his hopes are not unreasonable, he mentioned that
when the disturbance began, Nsama sent men with two tusks to the
village whence he had just been expelled, offering thereby to make the
matter up, but the Arabs, suspecting treachery, fired upon the
carriers and killed them, then ten goats and one tusk were sent with
the same object, and met with a repulse; Hamees thinks that had he
been there himself the whole matter would have been settled amicably.

All complain of cold here. The situation is elevated, and we are
behind a clump of trees on the rivulet Chiloa, which keeps the sun off
us in the mornings. This cold induces the people to make big fires in
their huts, and frequently their dwellings are burned. Minimum
temperature is as low as 46°; sometimes 33°.

_24th June, 1867._--The Arabs are all busy reading their Koran, or
Kurán, and in praying for direction; to-morrow they will call a
meeting to deliberate as to what steps they will take in the Nsama
affair. Hamees, it seems, is highly thought of by that chief, who
says, "Let him come, and all will be right." Hamees proposes to go
with but a few people. These Zanzibar men are very different from the
slavers of the Waiyau country.

_25th June, 1867._--The people, though called, did not assemble, but
they will come to-morrow.

Young wagtails nearly full-fledged took wing, leaving one in the nest;
from not being molested by the people they took no precautions, and
ran out of the nest on the approach of the old ones, making a loud
chirping. The old ones tried to induce the last one to come out too,
by flying to the nest, and then making a sally forth, turning round
immediately to see if he followed: he took a few days longer.

It was decided at the meeting that Hamees, with a few people only,
should go to Nsama on the first day after the appearance of the new
moon (they are very particular on this point); the present month
having been an unhappy one they will try the next.

_28th June, 1867._--A wedding took place among the Arabs to-day. About
a hundred blank cartridges were fired off, and a procession of males,
dressed in their best, marched through the village. They sang with all
their might, though with but little music in the strain. Women
sprinkled grain on their heads as wishes for plenty.[54]

Nsama is said to be waiting for the Arabs in his new stockade. It is
impossible to ascertain exactly who is to blame in this matter, for I
hear one side only; but the fact of the chiefs in this part of the
country turning out so readily to punish his breach of public law, and
no remonstrance coming from him, makes me suspect that Nsama is the
guilty party. If he had been innocent he certainly would have sent to
ask the Bulungu, or Bäulungu, why they had attacked his people without
cause.


[Here is an entry concerning the tribe living far to the East.]


The Wasongo seem much like Zulus; they go naked, and have prodigious
numbers of cattle, which occupy the same huts with their owners. Oxen
two shukahs each; plenty of milk. Meréré is very liberal with his
cattle, and gives every one an ox: there is no rice, but maize and
maëre. Hamees left the people to cultivate rice. Meréré had plenty of
ivory when the Arabs came first, but now has none.

_1st July, 1867._--New moon to-day. They are very particular as to the
time of offering up prayers, and in making charms. One to-night was at
10 P.M. exactly.

A number of cabalistic figures were drawn by Halfani, and it is
believed that by these Nsama's whereabouts may be ascertained; they
are probably remains of the secret arts which prevailed among Arabs
before Mahomet appeared. These Suaheli Arabs appear to have come down
the coast before that Prophet was born.

_3rd July, 1867._--Kasonso's people are expected. All the captives
that were taken are to be returned, and a quantity of cloth given to
Nsama in addition: so far all seems right. The new moon will appear
to-night. The Arabs count from one appearance to the next, not, as we
do, from its conjunction with the sun to the next.

_4th July, 1867._--Katawanya came from near Liemba to join the
peacemakers. He and his party arrived at Liemba after we did; he sent
his people all round to seek ivory; they don't care for anything but
ivory, and cannot understand why I don't do the same.

_6th July, 1867._--An earthquake happened at 3.30 P.M., accompanied
with a hollow rumbling sound; it made me feel as if afloat, but it
lasted only a few seconds. The boys came running to ask me what it
was. Nowhere could it be safer; the huts will not fall, and there are
no high rocks near. Barometer 25.0. Temperature 68° 5'. Heavy cumuli
hanging about; no rain afterwards.

_7th July, 1867._--Hamees started this morning with about 300
followers dressed in all their finery, and he declares that his sole
object is peace. Kasonso, Mombo, Chitimba send their people, and go
themselves to lend all their influence in favour of peace. Syde stops
here. Before starting Syde put some incense on hot coals, and all the
leaders of the party joined in a short prayer; they seem earnest and
sincere in their incantations, according to their knowledge and
belief. I wished to go too, but Hamees objected, as not being quite
sure whether Nsama would be friendly, and he would not like anything
to befall me when with him.

_8th July, 1867._--Kasonso found an excuse for not going himself. Two
men, Arabs it was said, came to Chibué's and were there killed, and
Kasonso must go to see about it. The people who go carry food with
them, evidently not intending to live by plunder this time.

While the peacemakers are gone I am employing time in reading Smith's
'Bible Dictionary,' and calculating different positions which have
stood over in travelling. I don't succeed well in the Bäulungu
dialect.

The owners of huts lent to strangers have a great deal of toil
in consequence; they have to clean them after the visitors have
withdrawn; then, in addition to this, to clean themselves, all
soiled by the dust left by the lodgers; their bodies and clothes
have to be cleansed afterwards--they add food too in all cases of
acquaintanceship, and then we have to remember the labour of preparing
that food. My remaining here enables me to observe that both men and
women are in almost constant employment. The men are making mats, or
weaving, or spinning; no one could witness their assiduity in their
little affairs and conclude that they were a lazy people. The only
idle time I observe here is in the mornings about seven o'clock, when
all come and sit to catch the first rays of the sun as he comes over
our clump of trees, but even that time is often taken as an
opportunity for stringing beads.

I hear that some of Nsama's people crossed the Lovu at Karambo to
plunder, in retaliation for what they have suffered, and the people
there were afraid to fish, lest they should be caught by them at a
distance from their stockades.

The Bäulungu men are in general tall and well formed, they use bows
over six feet in length, and but little bent. The facial angle is as
good in most cases as in Europeans, and they have certainly as little
of the "lark-heel" as whites. One or two of the under front teeth are
generally knocked out in women, and also in men.

_14th July, 1867._--Syde added to his other presents some more beads:
all have been very kind, which I attribute in a great measure to Seyed
Majid's letter. Hamees crossed the Lovu to-day at a fordable spot. The
people on the other side refused to go with a message to Nsama, so
Hamees had to go and compel them by destroying their stockade. A
second village acted in the same way, though told that it was only
peace that was sought of Nsama: this stockade suffered the same fate,
and then the people went to Nsama, and he showed no reluctance to have
intercourse. He gave abundance of food, pombe, and bananas; the
country being extremely fertile. Nsama also came and ratified the
peace by drinking blood with several of the underlings of Hamees. He
is said to be an enormously bloated old man, who cannot move unless
carried, and women are constantly in attendance pouring pombe into
him. He gave Hamees ten tusks, and promised him twenty more, and also
to endeavour to make his people return what goods they plundered from
the Arabs, and he is to send his people over here to call us after
the new moon appears.

It is tiresome beyond measure to wait so long, but I hope to see Moero
for this exercise of patience, and I could not have visited it had
Hamees not succeeded in making peace.

_17th July, 1867._--A lion roared very angrily at the village last
night, he was probably following the buffaloes that sometimes come
here to drink at night: they are all very shy, and so is all the game,
from fear of arrows.

A curious disease has attacked my left eyelid and surrounding parts: a
slight degree of itchiness is followed by great swelling of the part.
It must be a sort of lichen; exposure to the sun seems to cure it, and
this leads me to take long walks therein. This is about 30° 19' E.
long.; lat. 8° 57' 55" S.

_24th July, 1867._--A fire broke out at 4 A.M., and there being no
wind the straw roofs were cleared off in front of it on our side of
the village. The granaries were easily unroofed, as the roof is not
attached to the walls, and the Arabs tried to clear a space on their
side, but were unable, and then moved all their ivory and goods
outside the stockade; their side of the village was all consumed, and
three goats perished in the flames.

Chitimba has left us from a fear of his life, he says; it is probable
that he means this flight to be used as an excuse to Nsama after we
are gone. "And I, too, was obliged to flee from my village to save my
life! What could I do?" This is to be his argument, I suspect.

A good many slaves came from the two villages that were destroyed: on
inquiry I was told that these would be returned when Nsama gave the
ivory promised.

When Nsama was told that an Englishman wished to go past him to Moero,
he replied, "Bring him, and I shall send men to take him thither."

Hamees is building a "tembé," or house, with a flat roof, and walls
plastered over with mud, to keep his ivory from fire while he is
absent. We expect that Nsama will send for us a few days after the 2nd
August, when the new moon appears; if they do not come soon Hamees
will send men to Nsama without waiting for his messengers.

_28th July, 1867._--Prayers, with the Litany.[55] Slavery is a great
evil wherever I have seen it. A poor old woman and child are among the
captives, the boy about three years old seems a mother's pet. His feet
are sore from walking in the sun. He was offered for two fathoms, and
his mother for one fathom; he understood it all, and cried bitterly,
clinging to his mother. She had, of course, no power to help him; they
were separated at Karungu afterwards.

[The above is an episode of every-day occurrence in the wake of the
slave-dealer. "Two fathoms," mentioned as the price of the boy's
life--the more valuable of the two, means four yards of unbleached
calico, which is a universal article of barter throughout the greater
part of Africa: the mother was bought for two yards. The reader must
not think that there are no lower prices; in the famines which succeed
the slave-dealer's raids, boys and girls are at times to be purchased
by the dealer for a few handfuls of maize.]

_29th July, 1867._--Went 2 1/2 hours west to village of Ponda, where a
head Arab, called by the natives Tipo Tipo, lives; his name is Hamid
bin Mahamed bin Juma Borajib. He presented a goat, a piece of white
calico, and four big bunches of beads, also a bag of Holcus sorghum,
and apologised because it was so little. He had lost much by Nsama;
and received two arrow wounds there; they had only twenty guns at the
time, but some were in the stockade, and though the people of Nsama
were very numerous they beat them off, and they fled carrying the
bloated carcase of Nsama with them. Some reported that boxes were
found in the village, which belonged to parties who had perished
before, but Syde assured me that this was a mistake.

Moero is three days distant, and as Nsama's people go thither to
collect salt on its banks, it would have been impossible for me to
visit it from the south without being seen, and probably suffering
loss.

The people seem to have no family names. A man takes the name of his
mother, or should his father die he may assume that. Marriage is
forbidden to the first, second, and third degrees: they call first and
second cousins brothers and sisters.

A woman, after cupping her child's temples for sore eyes, threw the
blood over the roof of her hut as a charm.

[In the above process a goat's horn is used with a small hole in the
pointed end. The base is applied to the part from which the blood is
to be withdrawn, and the operator, with a small piece of chewed
india-rubber in his mouth, exhausts the air, and at the proper moment
plasters the small hole up with his tongue. When the cupping-horn is
removed, some cuts are made with a small knife, and it is again
applied. As a rough appliance, it is a very good one, and in great
repute everywhere.]

FOOTNOTES:

[50] It subsequently proved to be the southern extremity of this great
Lake.

[51] Elais, sp.(?).

[52] This is a common symptom--men will suddenly lose all power in the
lower extremities, and remain helpless where they fall.--ED.

[53] The men heard in 1873 that he had been killed.

[54] This comes near to the custom of throwing rice after the bride
and bridegroom in England.--ED.

[55] In his Journal the Doctor writes "S," and occasionally "Service,"
whenever a Sunday entry occurs. We may add that at all times during
his travels the Services of the Church of England were resorted to by
him.--ED.




CHAPTER IX.

    Peace negotiations with Nsama. Geographical gleanings. Curious
    spider. Reach the River Lofu. Arrives at Nsama's. Hamees marries
    the daughter of Nsama. Flight of the bride. Conflagration in
    Arab quarters. Anxious to visit Lake Moero. Arab burial. Serious
    illness. Continues journey. Slave-traders on the march. Reaches
    Moero. Description of the Lake. Information concerning the
    Chambezé and Luapula. Hears of Lake Bemba. Visits spot of Dr.
    Lacerda's death. Casembe apprised of Livingstone's approach.
    Meets Mohamad Bogharib. Lakelet Mofwé. Arrives at Casembe's
    town.


_1st August, 1867._--Hamees sends off men to trade at Chiweré's.
_Zikwé_ is the name for locust here. Nsigé or Zigé and Pansi the
Suaheli names.

A perforated stone had been placed on one of the poles which form the
gateway into this stockade, it is oblong, seven or eight inches long
by four broad, and bevelled off on one side and the diameter of the
hole in the middle is about an inch and a half: it shows evidence of
the boring process in rings. It is of hard porphyry and of a pinkish
hue, and resembles somewhat a weight for a digging stick I saw in 1841
in the hands of a Bushwoman: I saw one at a gateway near Kasonso's.
The people know nothing of its use except as a charm to keep away evil
from the village.

_2nd August, 1867._--Chronometer A. stopped to-day without any
apparent cause except the earthquake.

It is probably malaria which causes that constant singing in the ears
ever since my illness at Lake Liemba.

_3rd August, 1867._--We expect a message from Nsama every day, the
new moon having appeared on the first of this month, and he was to
send after its appearance.

_5th August, 1867._--Men came yesterday with the message that Hamees
must wait a little longer, as Nsama had not yet got all the ivory and
the goods which were stolen: they remained over yesterday. The
headman, Katala, says that Lunda is eight days from Nsama or Moero,
and in going we cross a large river called Movue, which flows into
Luapula; another river called Mokobwa comes from the south-east into
Moero. Itawa is the name of Nsama's country and people.

A day distant from Nsama's place there is a hot fountain called "Paka
pezhia," and around it the earth shakes at times: it is possible that
the earthquake we felt here may be connected with this same centre of
motion.

_6th August, 1867._--The weather is becoming milder. An increase of
cold was caused by the wind coming from the south. We have good
accounts of the Wasongo from all the Arabs, their houses built for
cattle are flat-roofed and enormously large; one, they say, is a
quarter of a mile long. Meréré the chief has his dwelling-house within
it: milk, butter, cheese, are in enormous quantities; the tribe, too,
is very large. I fear that they may be spoiled by the Arab underlings.

_7th August, 1867._--Some of my people went down to Karambo and were
detained by the chief, who said "I won't let you English go away and
leave me in trouble with these Arabs."

A slave had been given in charge to a man here and escaped, the Arabs
hereupon went to Karambo and demanded payment from the chief there; he
offered clothing, but they refused it, and would have a man; he then
offered a man, but this man having two children they demanded all
three. They bully as much as they please by their fire-arms. After
being spoken to by my people the Arabs came away. The chief begged
that I would come and visit him once more, for only one day, but it
is impossible, for we expect to move directly. I sent the information
to Hamees, who replied that they had got a clue to the man who was
wiling away their slaves from them. My people saw others of the low
squad which always accompanies the better-informed Arabs bullying the
people of another village, and taking fowls and food without payment.
Slavery makes a bad neighbourhood!

Hamees is on friendly terms with a tribe of Mazitu who say that they
have given up killing people. They lifted a great many cattle, but
have very few now; some of them came with him to show the way to
Kasonso's.

Slaves are sold here in the same open way that the business is carried
on in Zanzibar slave-market. A man goes about calling out the price he
wants for the slave, who walks behind him; if a woman, she is taken
into a hut to be examined in a state of nudity.

Some of the Arabs believe that meteoric stones are thrown at Satan for
his wickedness. They believe that cannon were taken up Kilimanjaro by
the first Arabs who came into the country, and there they lie. They
deny that Van der Decken did more than go round a portion of the base
of the mountain; he could not get on the mass of the mountain: all his
donkeys and some of his men died by the cold. Hamees seems to be
Cooley's great geographical oracle!

The information one can cull from the Arabs respecting the country on
the north-west is very indefinite. They magnify the difficulties in
the way by tales of the cannibal tribes, where anyone dying is bought
and no one ever buried, but this does not agree with the fact, which
also is asserted, that the cannibals have plenty of sheep and goats.
The Rua is about ten days west of Tanganyika, and five days beyond it
a lake or river ten miles broad is reached; it is said to be called
Logarawá. All the water flows northwards, but no reliance can be
placed on the statements. Kiombo is said to be chief of Rua country.

Another man asserts that Tanganyika flows northwards and forms a large
water beyond Uganda, but no dependence can be placed on the statements
of these half Arabs; they pay no attention to anything but ivory and
food.

_25th August, 1867._--Nsama requested the Arabs to give back his son
who was captured; some difficulty was made about this by his captor,
but Hamees succeeded in getting him and about nine others, and they
are sent off to-day. We wait only for the people, who are scattered
about the country. Hamees presented cakes, flour, a fowl and leg of
goat, with a piece of eland meat: this animal goes by the same name
here as at Kolobeng--"Pofu."[56]

A fig-tree here has large knobs on the bark, like some species of
acacia; and another looks like the Malolo of the Zambesi magnified. A
yellow wood gives an odour like incense when burned.

A large spider makes a nest inside the huts. It consists of a piece of
pure white paper, an inch and a half broad, stuck flat on the wall;
under this some forty or fifty eggs are placed, and then a quarter of
an inch of thinner paper is put round it, apparently to fasten the
first firmly. When making the paper the spider moves itself over the
surface in wavy lines; she then sits on it with her eight legs spread
over all for three weeks continuously, catching and eating any
insects, as cockroaches, that come near her nest. After three weeks
she leaves it to hunt for food, but always returns at night: the
natives do not molest it.

A small ant masters the common fly by seizing a wing or leg, and
holding on till the fly is tired out; at first the fly can move about
on the wing without inconvenience, but it is at last obliged to
succumb to an enemy very much smaller than itself.

A species of Touraco, new to me, has a broad yellow mask on the upper
part of the bill and forehead; the topknot is purple, the wings the
same as in other species, but the red is roseate. The yellow of the
mask plates is conspicuous at a distance.

A large callosity forms on the shoulders of the regular Unyamwesi
porters, from the heavy weights laid on them. I have noticed them an
inch and a half thick along the top of the shoulders. An old man was
pointed out to me who had once carried five frasilahs (= 175 lbs.) of
ivory from his own country to the coast.

_30th August, 1867._--We marched to-day from Chitimba's village after
three months and ten days' delay. On reaching Ponda, 2-1/2 hours
distant, we found Tipo Tipo, or Hamidi bin Mohamad, gone on, and so we
followed him. Passed a fine stream flowing S.W. to the Lofu. Tipo Tipo
gave me a fine fat goat.

_31st August, 1867._--Pass along a fine undulating district, with much
country covered with forest, but many open glades, and fine large
trees along the water-courses. We were on the northern slope of the
watershed, and could see far. Crossed two fine rivulets. The oozes
still full and flowing.

_1st September, 1867._--We had to march in the afternoon on account of
a dry patch existing in the direct way. We slept without water, though
by diverging a few miles to the north we should have crossed many
streams, but this is the best path for the whole year.

Baraka went back to Tipo Tipo's village, thus putting his intention of
begging among the Arab slaves into operation. He has only one
complaint, and that is dislike to work. He tried perseveringly to get
others to run away with him; lost the medicine-box, six table-cloths,
and all our tools by giving his load off to a country lad while he
went to collect mushrooms: he will probably return to Zanzibar, and be
a slave to the Arab slaves after being a perpetual nuisance to us for
upwards of a year.

_2nd September, 1867._--When we reached the ford of the Lofu, we found
that we were at least a thousand feet below Chitimba's. The last six
hours of our march were without water, but when near to Chungu's
village at the ford we came to fine flowing rivulets, some ten feet or
so broad. Here we could see westwards and northwards the long lines of
hills of denudation in Nsama's country, which till lately was densely
peopled. Nsama is of the Babemba family. Kasonso, Chitimba, Kiwé,
Urongwé, are equals and of one family, Urungai. Chungu is a pleasant
person, and liberal according to his means. Large game is very
abundant through all this country.

The Lofu at the ford was 296 feet, the water flowing briskly over
hardened sandstone flag, and from thigh to waist deep; elsewhere it is
a little narrower, but not passable except by canoes.

_4th and 5th September, 1867._--Went seven hours west of the Lofu to a
village called Hara, one of those burned by Hamees because the people
would not take a peaceful message to Nsama. This country is called
Itawa, and Hara is one of the districts. We waited at Hara to see if
Nsama wished us any nearer to himself. He is very much afraid of the
Arabs, and well he may be, for he was until lately supposed to be
invincible. He fell before twenty muskets, and this has caused a panic
throughout the country. The land is full of food, though the people
have nearly all fled. The ground-nuts are growing again for want of
reapers; and 300 people living at free-quarters make no impression on
the food.

_9th September, 1867._--Went three hours west of Hara, and came to
Nsama's new stockade, built close by the old one burned by Tipo Tipo,
as Hamidi bin Mohamed was named by Nsama.[57] I sent a message to
Nsama, and received an invitation to come and visit him, but bring no
guns. A large crowd of his people went with us, and before we came to
the inner stockade they felt my clothes to see that no fire-arms were
concealed about my person. When we reached Nsama, we found a very old
man, with a good head and face and a large abdomen, showing that he
was addicted to pombe: his people have to carry him. I gave him a
cloth, and asked for guides to Moero, which he readily granted, and
asked leave to feel my clothes and hair. I advised him to try and live
at peace, but his people were all so much beyond the control of
himself and headmen, that at last, after scolding them, he told me
that he would send for me by night, and then we could converse, but
this seems to have gone out of his head. He sent me a goat, flour, and
pombe, and next day we returned to Hara.

Nsama's people have generally small, well-chiseled features, and many
are really handsome, and have nothing of the West Coast Negro about
them, but they file their teeth to sharp points, and greatly disfigure
their mouths. The only difference between them and Europeans is the
colour. Many of the men have very finely-formed heads, and so have the
women; and the fashion of wearing the hair sets off their foreheads to
advantage. The forehead is shaved off to the crown, the space
narrowing as it goes up; then the back hair, is arranged into knobs of
about ten rows.

_10th September, 1867._--Some people of Ujiji have come to Nsama's to
buy ivory with beads, but, finding that the Arabs have forestalled
them in the market, they intend to return in their dhow, or rather
canoe, which is manned by about fifty hands. My goods are reported
safe, and the meat of the buffaloes which died in the way is there,
and sun-dried. I sent a box, containing papers, books, and some
clothes, to Ujiji.

_14th September, 1867._--I remained at Hara, for I was ill, and Hamees
had no confidence in Nsama, because he promised his daughter to wife
by way of cementing the peace, but had not given her. Nsama also told
Hamees to stay at Hara, and he would send him ivory for sale, but none
came, nor do people come here to sell provisions, as they do
elsewhere; so Hamees will return to Chitimba's, to guard his people
and property there, and send on Syde Hamidi and his servants to
Lopéré, Kabuiré, and Moero, to buy ivory. He advised me to go with
them, as he has no confidence in Nsama; and Hamidi thought that this
was the plan to be preferred: it would be slower, as they would
purchase ivory on the road, but safer to pass his country altogether
than trust myself in his power.

The entire population of the country has received a shock from the
conquest of Nsama, and their views of the comparative values of bows
and arrows and guns have undergone a great change. Nsama was the
Napoleon of these countries; no one could stand before him, hence the
defeat of the invincible Nsama has caused a great panic. The Arabs say
that they lost about fifty men in all: Nsama must have lost at least
an equal number. The people seem intelligent, and will no doubt act on
the experience so dearly bought.

In the midst of the doubts of Hamees a daughter of Nsama came this
afternoon to be a wife and cementer of the peace! She came riding
"pickaback" on a man's shoulders; a nice, modest, good-looking young
woman, her hair rubbed all over with _nkola_, a red pigment, made from
the camwood, and much used as an ornament. She was accompanied by
about a dozen young and old female attendants, each carrying a small
basket with some provisions, as cassava, ground-nuts, &c. The Arabs
were all dressed in their finery, and the slaves, in fantastic
dresses, flourished swords, fired guns, and yelled. When she was
brought to Hamees' hut she descended, and with her maids went into the
hut. She and her attendants had all small, neat features. I had been
sitting with Hamees, and now rose up and went away; as I passed him,
he spoke thus to himself: "Hamees Wadim Tagh! see to what you have
brought yourself!!"

_15th September, 1867._--A guide had come from Nsama to take us to the
countries beyond his territory. Hamees set off this morning with his
new wife to his father-in-law, but was soon met by two messengers, who
said that he was not to come yet. We now sent for all the people who
were out to go west or north-west without reference to Nsama.

_16th-18th September, 1867._--Hamidi went to Nsama to try and get
guides, but he would not let him come into his stockade unless he came
up to it without either gun or sword. Hamidi would not go in on these
conditions, but Nsama promised guides, and they came after a visit by
Hamees to Nsama, which he paid without telling any of us: he is
evidently ashamed of his father-in-law.

Those Arabs who despair of ivory invest their remaining beads and
cloth in slaves.

_20th September, 1867._--I had resolved to go to Nsama's, and thence
to Moero to-day, but Hamees sent to say that men had come, and we were
all to go with them on the 22nd. Nsama was so vacillating that I had
no doubt but this was best.

Hamees' wife, seeing the preparations that were made for starting,
thought that her father was to be attacked, so she, her attendants,
and the guides decamped by night. Hamees went again to Nsama and got
other guides to enable us to go off at once.

_22nd September, 1867._--We went north for a couple of hours, then
descended into the same valley as that in which I found Nsama. This
valley is on the slope of the watershed, and lies east and west: a
ridge of dark-red sandstone, covered with trees, forms its side on the
south. Other ridges like this make the slope have the form of a stair
with huge steps: the descent is gradually lost as we insensibly climb
up the next ridge. The first plain between the steps is at times
swampy, and the paths are covered with the impressions of human feet,
which, being hardened by the sun, make walking on their uneven surface
very difficult. Mosquitoes again; we had lost them during our long
stay on the higher lands behind us.

_23rd September, 1867._--A fire had broken out the night after we left
Hara, and the wind being strong, it got the upper hand, and swept away
at once the whole of the temporary village of dry straw huts: Hamees
lost all his beads, guns, powder, and cloth, except one bale. The news
came this morning, and prayers were at once offered for him with
incense; some goods will also be sent, as a little incense was. The
prayer-book was held in the smoke of the incense while the responses
were made. These Arabs seem to be very religious in their way: the
prayers were chiefly to Harasji, some relative of Mohamad.

_24th September, 1867._--Roused at 3 A.M. to be told that the next
stage had no water, and we should be oppressed with the midday heat if
we went now. We were to go at 2 P.M. Hamidi's wife being ill yesterday
put a stop to our march on that afternoon. After the first hour we
descended from the ridge to which we had ascended, we had then a wall
of tree-covered rocks on our left of more than a thousand feet in
altitude; after flanking it for a while we went up, and then along it
northwards till it vanished in forest. Slept without a fresh supply of
water.

_25th September, 1867._--Off at 5.30 A.M., through the same well-grown
forest we have passed and came to a village stockade, where the gates
were shut, and the men all outside, in fear of the Arabs; we then
descended from the ridge on which it stood, about a thousand feet,
into an immense plain, with a large river in the distance, some ten
miles off.

_26th September, 1867._--Two and a half hours brought us to the large
river we saw yesterday; it is more than a mile wide and full of
papyrus and other aquatic plants and very difficult to ford, as the
papyrus roots are hard to the bare feet, and we often plunged into
holes up to the waist. A loose mass floated in the middle of our path;
one could sometimes get on along this while it bent and heaved under
the weight, but through it he would plunge and find great difficulty
to get out: the water under this was very cold from evaporation; it
took an hour and a half to cross it. It is called Chiséra, and winds
away to the west to fall into the Kalongosi and Moero. Many animals,
as elephants, tahetsis, zebras, and buffaloes, graze on the long
sloping banks of about a quarter of a mile down, while the ranges of
hills we crossed as mere ridges now appear behind us in the south.

_27th September, 1867._--The people are numerous and friendly. One
elephant was killed, and we remained to take the ivory from the dead
beast; buffaloes and zebras were also killed. It was so cloudy that no
observations could be taken to determine our position, but Chiséra
rises in Lopéré. Further west it is free of papyrus, and canoes are
required to cross it.

_28th September, 1867._--Two hours north brought us to the Kamosenga,
a river eight yards wide, of clear water which ran strongly among
aquatic plants. Hippopotami, buffalo, and zebra abound. This goes into
the Chiséra eastwards; country flat and covered with dense tangled
bush. Cassias and another tree of the pea family are now in flower,
and perfume the air. Other two hours took us round a large bend of
this river.

_30th September, 1867._.--We crossed the Kamosenga or another, and
reach Karungu's. The Kamosenga divides Lopéré from Itawa, the latter
being Nsama's country; Lopéré is north-west of it.

_1st October, 1867._--Karungu was very much afraid of us; he kept
every one out of his stockade at first, but during the time the Arabs
sent forward to try and conciliate other chiefs he gradually became
more friendly. He had little ivory to sell, and of those who had,
Mtété or Mtéma seemed inclined to treat the messengers roughly. Men
were also sent to Nsama asking him to try and induce Mtéma and
Chikongo to be friendly and sell ivory and provisions, but he replied
that these chiefs were not men under him, and if they thought
themselves strong enough to contend against guns he had nothing to say
to them. Other chiefs threatened to run away as soon as they saw the
Arabs approaching. These were assured that we meant to pass through
the country alone, and if they gave us guides to show us how, we
should avoid the villages altogether, and proceed to the countries
where ivory was to be bought; however, the panic was too great, no one
would agree to our overtures, and at last when we did proceed a chief
on the River Choma fulfilled his threat and left us three empty
villages. There were no people to sell though the granaries were
crammed, and it was impossible to prevent the slaves from stealing.

_3rd-4th October, 1867._--When Chikongo heard Tipo Tipo's message
about buying ivory he said, "And when did Tipo Tipo place ivory in my
country that he comes seeking it?" Yet he sent a tusk and said "That
is all I have, and he is not to come here." Their hostile actions are
caused principally by fear. "If Nsama could not stand before the
Malongwana or traders, how can we face them?" I wished to go on to
Moero, but all declare that our ten guns would put all the villages to
flight: they are terror-struck. First rains of this season on the 5th.

_10th October, 1867._--I had a long conversation with Syde, who thinks
that the sun rises and sets because the Koran says so, and he sees it.
He asserts that Jesus foretold the coming of Mohamad; and that it was
not Jesus who suffered on the cross but a substitute, it being
unlikely that a true prophet would be put to death so ignominiously.
He does not understand how we can be glad that our Saviour died for
our sins.

_12th October, 1867._--An elephant killed by Tipo Tipo's men. It is
always clouded over, and often not a breath of air stirring.

_16th October, 1867._--A great many of the women of this district and
of Lopéré have the swelled thyroid gland called _goitre_ or Derbyshire
neck; men, too, appeared with it, and they in addition have hydrocele
of large size.

An Arab who had been long ill at Chitimba's died yesterday, and was
buried in the evening. No women were allowed to come near. A long
silent prayer was uttered over the corpse when it was laid beside the
grave, and then a cloth was held over as men in it deposited the
remains beneath sticks placed slanting on the side of the bottom of
the grave; this keeps the earth from coming directly into contact with
the body.

A feast was made by the friends of the departed, and portions sent to
all who had attended the funeral: I got a good share.

_18th October, 1867._--The last we hear of Nsama is that he will not
interfere with Chikongo. Two wives beat drums and he dances to them;
he is evidently in his dotage. We hear of many Arabs to the west of
us.

_20th October, 1867._--Very ill; I am always so when I have no
work--sore bones--much headache; then lost power over the muscles of
the back, as at Liemba; no appetite and much thirst. The fever
uninfluenced by medicine.

_21st October, 1867._--Syde sent his men to build a new hut in a
better situation. I hope it may be a healthful one for me.

_22nd October, 1867._--The final message from Chikongo was a
discouraging one--no ivory. The Arabs, however, go west with me as far
as Chisawé's, who, being accustomed to Arabs from Tanganyika, will
give me men to take me on to Moero: the Arabs will then return, and we
shall move on.

_23rd October, 1867._--Tipo Tipo gave Karungu some cloth, and this
chief is "looking for something" to give him in return; this detains
us one day more.

When a slave wishes to change his master he goes to one whom he likes
better and breaks a spear or a bow in his presence--the transference
is irrevocable. This curious custom prevails on the Zambesi, and also
among the Wanyamwesi; if the old master wishes to recover his slave
the new one may refuse to part with him except when he gets his full
price: a case of this kind happened here yesterday.

_25th October, 1867._--Authority was found in the Koran for staying
one day more here. This was very trying; but the fact was our guide
from Hara hither had enticed a young slave girl to run away, and he
had given her in charge to one of his countrymen, who turned round and
tried to secure her for himself, and gave information about the other
enticing her away. Nothing can be more tedious than the Arab way of
travelling.

_26th October, 1867._--We went S.W. for five hours through an
undulating, well-wooded, well-peopled country, and quantities of large
game. Several trees give out when burned very fine scents; others do
it when cut. Euphorbia is abundant. We slept by a torrent which had
been filled with muddy water by late rains. It thunders every
afternoon, and rains somewhere as regularly as it thunders, but these
are but partial rains; they do not cool the earth; nor fill the cracks
made in the dry season.

_27th October, 1867._--Off early in a fine drizzling rain, which
continued for two hours, and came on to a plain about three miles
broad, full of large game. These plains are swamps at times, and they
are flanked by ridges of denudation some 200 or 300 feet above them,
and covered with trees.

The ridges are generally hardened sandstone, marked with madrepores,
and masses of brown haematite. It is very hot, and we become very
tired. There is no system in the Arab marches. The first day was five
hours, this 3-1/2 hours; had it been reversed--short marches during
the first days and longer afterwards--the muscles would have become
inured to the exertion. A long line of heights on our south points to
the valley of Nsama.

_28th October, 1867._--Five hours brought us to the Choma River and
the villages of Chifupa, but, as already mentioned, the chief and
people had fled, and no persuasion could prevail on them to come and
sell us food. We showed a few who ventured to come among us what we
were willing to give for flour, but they said, "Yes, we will call the
women and they will sell." None came.

Rested all day on the banks of the Choma, which is a muddy stream
coming from the north and going to the south-west to join the Chiséra.
It has worn itself a deep bed in the mud of its banks, and is twenty
yards wide and in some spots waist deep, at other parts it is
unfordable, it contains plenty of fish, and hippopotami and crocodiles
abound. I bought a few ground-nuts at an exorbitant price, the men
evidently not seeing that it would have been better to part with more
at a lower price than run off and leave all to be eaten by the slaves.

_30th October, 1867._--Two ugly images were found in huts built for
them: they represent in a poor way the people of the country, and are
used in rain-making and curing the sick ceremonies; this is the
nearest approach to idol worship I have seen in the country.[58]

_31st October, 1867._--We marched over a long line of hills on our
west, and in five and a half hours came to some villages where the
people sold us food willingly, and behaved altogether in a friendly
way. We were met by a herd of buffaloes, but Syde seized my gun from
the boy who carried it, and when the animals came close past me I was
powerless, and not at all pleased with the want of good sense shown by
my usually polite Arab friend.

_Note_.--The Choma is said by Mohamad bin Saleh to go into Tanganyika
(??). It goes to Kalongosi.

_1st November, 1867._--We came along between ranges of hills
considerably higher than those we have passed in Itawa or Nsama's
country, and thickly covered with trees, some in full foliage, and
some putting forth fresh red leaves; the hills are about 700 or 800
feet above the valleys. This is not a district of running rills: we
crossed three sluggish streamlets knee deep. Buffaloes are very
numerous.

The Ratel covers the buffalo droppings with earth in order to secure
the scavenger beetles which bury themselves therein, thus he prevents
them from rolling a portion away as usual.

We built our sheds on a hillside. Our course was west and 6-1/4 hours.

_2nd November, 1867._--Still in the same direction, and in an open
valley remarkable for the numbers of a small euphorbia, which we
smashed at every step. Crossed a small but strong rivulet, the
Lipandé, going south-west to Moero, then, an hour afterwards, crossed
it again, now twenty yards wide and knee deep. After descending from
the tree-covered hill which divides Lipandé from Luao, we crossed the
latter to sleep on its western bank. The hills are granite now, and a
range on our left, from 700 to 1500 feet high, goes on all the way to
Moero.

These valleys along which we travel are beautiful. Green is the
prevailing colour; but the clumps of trees assume a great variety of
forms, and often remind one of English park scenery. The long line of
slaves and carriers, brought up by their Arab employers, adds life to
the scene, they are in three bodies, and number 450 in all. Each party
has a guide with a flag, and when that is planted all that company
stops till it is lifted, and a drum is beaten, and a kudu's horn
sounded. One party is headed by about a dozen leaders, dressed with
fantastic head-gear of feathers and beads, red cloth on the bodies,
and skins cut into strips and twisted: they take their places in line,
the drum beats, the horn sounds harshly, and all fall in. These sounds
seem to awaken a sort of _esprit de corps_ in those who have once been
slaves. My attendants now jumped up, and would scarcely allow me time
to dress when they heard the-sounds of their childhood, and all day
they were among the foremost. One said to me "that his feet were
rotten with marching," and this though told that they were not called
on to race along like slaves.

The Africans cannot stand sneers. When any mishap occurs in the march
(as when a branch tilts a load off a man's shoulder) all who see it
set up a yell of derision; if anything is accidentally spilled, or if
one is tired and sits down, the same yell greets him, and all are
excited thereby to exert themselves. They hasten on with their loads,
and hurry with the sheds they build, the masters only bringing up the
rear, and helping anyone who may be sick. The distances travelled were
quite as much as the masters or we could bear. Had frequent halts been
made--as, for instance, a half or a quarter of an hour at the end of
every hour or two--but little distress would have been felt; but five
hours at a stretch is more than men can bear in a hot climate. The
female slaves held on bravely; nearly all carried loads on their
heads, the head, or lady of the party, who is also the wife of the
Arab, was the only exception. She had a fine white shawl, with
ornaments of gold and silver on her head. These ladies had a jaunty
walk, and never gave in on the longest march; many pounds' weight of
fine copper leglets above the ankles seemed only to help the sway of
their walk: as soon as they arrive at the sleeping-place they begin to
cook, and in this art they show a good deal of expertness, making
savoury dishes for their masters out of wild fruits and other not very
likely materials.

_3rd November, 1867._--The ranges of hills retire as we advance; the
soil is very rich. At two villages the people did not want us, so we
went on and encamped near a third, Kabwakwa, where a son of Mohamad
bin Saleh, with a number of Wanyamwesi, lives. The chief of this part
is Muabo, but we did not see him: the people brought plenty of food
for us to buy. The youth's father is at Casembe's. The country-people
were very much given to falsehood--every place inquired for was
near--ivory abundant--provisions of all sorts cheap and plenty. Our
headmen trusted to these statements of this young man rather, and he
led them to desist going further. Rua country was a month distant, he
said, and but little ivory there. It is but three days off. (We saw it
after three days.) "No ivory at Casembe's or here in Buiré, or
Kabuiré." He was right as to Casembe. Letters, however, came from
Hamees, with news of a depressing nature. Chitimba is dead, and so is
Mambwé. Chitimba's people are fighting for the chieftainship: great
hunger prevails there now, the Arabs having bought up all the food.
Moriri, a chief dispossessed of his country by Nsama, wished Hamees to
restore his possessions, but Hamees said that he had made peace, and
would not interfere.

This unfavourable news from a part where the chief results of their
trading were deposited, made Syde and Tipo Tipo decide to remain in
Buiré only ten or twenty days, send out people to buy what ivory they
could find, and then, retire.

As Syde and Tipo Tipo were sending men to Casembe for ivory, I
resolved to go thither first, instead of shaping my course for Ujiji.

Very many cases of goitre in men and women here: I see no reason for
it. This is only 3350 feet above the sea.

_7th November, 1867._--Start for Moero, convoyed by all the Arabs for
some distance: they have been extremely kind. We draw near to the
mountain-range on our left, called Kakoma, and sleep at one of
Kaputa's villages, our course now being nearly south.

_8th November, 1867._--Villages are very thickly studded over the
valley formed by Kakoma range, and another at a greater distance on
our right; 100 or 200 yards is a common distance between these
villages, which, like those in Londa, or Lunda, are all shaded with
trees of a species of _Ficus indica_. One belongs to Puta, and this
Puta, the paramount chief, sent to say that if we slept there, and
gave him a cloth, he would send men to conduct us next day, and ferry
us across: I was willing to remain, but his people would not lend a
hut, so we came on to the Lake, and no ferry. Probably he thought that
we were going across the Lualaba into Rua.

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 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, and in it lies the path to Casembe. We slept
in a fisherman's hut on the north shore. They brought a large fish,
called "mondé," for sale; it has a slimy skin, and no scales, a large
head, with tentaculae like the Siluridie, and large eyes: the great
gums in its mouth have a brush-like surface, like a whale's in
miniature: it is said to eat small fish. A bony spine rises on its
back (I suppose for defence), which is 2-1/2 inches long, and as thick
as a quill. They are very retentive of life.

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 Moero, is the Luapula, and that again (if the most
intelligent reports speak true) is the Chambezé before it enters Lake
Bemba, or Bangweolo.

We came along the north shore till we reached the eastern flanking
range, then ascended and turned south, the people very suspicious,
shutting their gates as we drew near. We were alone, and only nine
persons in all, but they must have had reason for fear. One headman
refused us admission, then sent after us, saying that the man who had
refused admission was not the chief: he had come from a distance, and
had just arrived. It being better to appear friendly than otherwise,
we went back, and were well entertained. Provisions were given when we
went away. Flies abound, and are very troublesome; they seem to be
attracted by the great numbers of fish caught. The people here are
Babemba, but beyond the river Kalongosi they are all Balunda.

A trade in salt is carried on from different salt springs and salt mud
to Lunda and elsewhere. We meet parties of salt-traders daily, and
they return our salutations very cordially, rubbing earth on the arms.
We find our path lies between two ranges of mountains, one flanking
the eastern shore, the other about three miles more inland, and
parallel to it: these are covered thickly with trees, and are of
loosely-coherent granite: many villages are in the space enclosed by
these ranges, but all insecure.

_12th November, 1867._.--We came to the Kalongosi, or, as the Arabs
and Portuguese pronounce it, Karungwesi, about 60 yards wide, and
flowing fast over stones. It is deep enough, even now when the rainy
season is not commenced, to requite canoes. It is said to rise in
Kumbi, or Afar, a country to the south-east of our ford. Fish in great
numbers are caught when ascending to spawn: they are secured by weirs,
nets, hooks. Large strong baskets are placed in the rapids, and filled
with stones, when the water rises these baskets are standing-places
for the fishermen to angle or throw their nets. Having crossed the
Kalongosi we were now in Lunda, or Londa.

_13th November, 1867._--We saw that the Kalongosi went north till it
met a large meadow on the shores of Moero, and, turning westwards, it
entered there. The fishermen gave us the names of 39 species of fish
in the Lake; they said that they never cease ascending the Kalongosi,
though at times they are more abundant than at others: they are as
follows.

    Mondé; Mota; Lasa; Kasibé; Molobé; Lopembé; Motoya; Chipansa;
    Mpifu; Manda; Mpala; Moombo; Mfeu; Mendé; Seusé; Kadia nkololo;
    Etiaka; Nkomo; Lifisha; Sambamkaka; Ntondo; Sampa; Bongwé;
    Mabanga; Kisé; Kuanya; Nkosu; Palé; Mosungu; Litembwa;
    Mecheberé; Koninchia; Sipa; Lomembé; Molenga; Mirongé; Nfindo;
    Pende.

_14th November, 1867._--Being doubtful as to whether we were in the
right path, I sent to a village to inquire. The headman, evidently
one of a former Casembe school, came to us full of wrath. "What right
had we to come that way, seeing the usual path was to our left?" He
mouthed some sentences in the pompous Lunda style, but would not show
us the path; so we left him, and after going through a forest of large
trees, 4-1/2 hours south, took advantage of some huts on the Kifurwa
River, built by bark-cloth cutters.

_15th November, 1867._--Heavy rains, but we went on, and found a
village, Kifurwa, surrounded by cassava fields, and next day crossed
the Muatozé, 25 yards wide, and running strongly towards Moero, knee
deep. The River Kabukwa, seven yards wide, and also knee deep, going
to swell the Muatozé.

We now crossed a brook, Chirongo, one yard wide and one deep; but our
march was all through well-grown forest, chiefly gum-copal trees and
bark-cloth trees. The gum-copal oozes out in abundance after or during
the rains, from holes a quarter of an inch in diameter, made by an
insect: it falls, and in time sinks into the soil, a supply for future
generations. The small well-rounded features of the people of Nsama's
country are common here, as we observe in the salt-traders and
villages; indeed, this is the home of the Negro, and the features such
as we see in pictures of ancient Egyptians, as first pointed out by
Mr. Winwood Reade. We sleep by the river Mandapala, 12 yards wide, and
knee deep.

_18th November, 1867._--We rest by the Kabusi, a sluggish narrow
rivulet. It runs into the Chungu, a quarter of a mile off. The Chungu
is broad, but choked with trees and aquatic plants: Sapotas,
Eschinomenas, Papyrus, &c. The free stream is 18 yards wide, and waist
deep. We had to wade about 100 yards, thigh and waist deep, to get to
the free stream.

On this, the Chungu, Dr. Lacerda died; it is joined by the Mandapala,
and flows a united stream into Moero. The statements of the people are
confused, but the following is what I have gleaned from many. There
were some Ujiji people with the Casembe of the time. The Portuguese
and Ujijians began to fight, but Casembe said to them and the
Portuguese, "You are all my guests, why should you fight and kill each
other?" He then gave Lacerda ten slaves, and men to live with him and
work at building huts, bringing firewood, water, &c. He made similar
presents to the Ujijians, which quieted them. Lacerda was but ten days
at Chungu when he died. The place of his death was about 9° 32', and
not 8° 43' as in Mr. Arrowsmith's map. The feud arose from one of
Lacerda's people killing an Ujijian at the water: this would certainly
be a barrier to their movements.

Palm-oil trees are common west of the Chungu, but none appeared east
of it. The oil is eaten by the people, and is very nice and sweet.
This is remarkable, as the altitude above the sea is 3350 feet.

Allah is a very common exclamation among all the people west of Nsama.
By advice of a guide whom we picked up at Kifurwa, we sent four
fathoms of calico to apprise Casembe of our coming: the Arabs usually
send ten fathoms; in our case it was a very superfluous notice, for
Casembe is said to have been telegraphed to by runners at every stage
of our progress after crossing the Kalongosi.

We remain by the Chungu till Casembe sends one of his counsellors to
guide us to his town. It has been so perpetually clouded over that we
have been unable to make out our progress, and the dense forest
prevented us seeing Moero as we wished: rain and thunder perpetually,
though the rain seldom fell where we were.

I saw pure white-headed swallows _(Psalidoprocne albiceps)_ skimming
the surface of the Chungu as we crossed it. The soil is very rich.
Casembe's ground-nuts are the largest I have seen, and so is the
cassava. I got over a pint of palm oil for a cubit of calico.

A fine young man, whose father had been the Casembe before this one,
came to see us; he is in the background now, otherwise he would have
conducted us to the village: a son or heir does not succeed to the
chieftainship here.

_21st November, 1867._--The River Lundé was five miles from Chungu. It
is six yards wide where we crossed it, but larger further down;
springs were oozing out of its bed: we then entered on a broad plain,
covered with bush, the trees being all cleared off in building a
village. When one Casembe dies, the man who succeeds him invariably
removes and builds his pembwé, or court, at another place: when Dr.
Lacerda died, the Casembe moved to near the north end of the Mofwé.
There have been seven Casembes in all. The word means a _general_.

The plain extending from the Lundé to the town of Casembe is level,
and studded pretty thickly with red anthills, from 15 to 20 feet high.
Casembe has made a broad path from his town to the Lundé, about a
mile-and-a-half long, and as broad as a carriage-path. The chief's
residence is enclosed in a wall of reeds, 8 or 9 feet high, and 300
yards square, the gateway is ornamented with about sixty human skulls;
a shed stands in the middle of the road before we come to the gate,
with a cannon dressed in gaudy cloths. A number of noisy fellows
stopped our party, and demanded tribute for the cannon; I burst
through them, and the rest followed without giving anything: they were
afraid of the English. The town is on the east bank of the Lakelet
Mofwé, and one mile from its northern end. Mohamad bin Saleh now met
us, his men firing guns of welcome; he conducted us to his shed of
reception, and then gave us a hut till we could build one of our own.
Mohamad is a fine portly black Arab, with a pleasant smile, and pure
white beard, and has been more than ten years in these parts, and
lived with four Casembes: he has considerable influence here, and also
on Tanganyika.

An Arab trader, Mohamad Bogharib, who arrived seven days before us
with an immense number of slaves, presented a meal of vermicelli, oil,
and honey, also cassava meal cooked, so as to resemble a sweet meat (I
had not tasted honey or sugar since we left Lake Nyassa, in September
1866): they had coffee too.

Neither goats, sheep, nor cattle thrive here, so the people are
confined to fowls and fish. Cassava is very extensively cultivated,
indeed, so generally is this plant grown, that it is impossible to
know which is town and which is country: every hut has a plantation
around it, in which is grown cassava, Holcus sorghum, maize, beans,
nuts.

Mohamad gives the same account of the River Luapula and Lake Bemba
that Jumbé did, but he adds, that the Chambezé, where we crossed it,
_is_ the Luapula before it enters Bemba or Bangweolo: on coming out of
that Lake it turns round and comes away to the north, as Luapula, and,
without touching the Mofwé, goes into Moero; then, emerging thence at
the north-west end it becomes Lualaba, goes into Rua, forms a lake
there, and afterwards goes into another lake beyond Tanganyika.

The Lakelet Mofwé fills during the rains and spreads westward, much
beyond its banks. Elephants wandering in its mud flats when covered
are annually killed in numbers: if it were connected with the Lake
Moero the flood would run off.

Many of Casembe's people appear with the ears cropped and hands lopped
off: the present chief has been often guilty of this barbarity. One
man has just come to us without ears or hands: he tries to excite our
pity making a chirruping noise, by striking his cheeks with the
stumps of his hands.

A dwarf also, one Zofu, with backbone broken, comes about us: he talks
with an air of authority, and is present at all public occurrences:
the people seem to bear with him. He is a stranger from a tribe in the
north, and works in his garden very briskly: his height is 3 feet 9
inches.

FOOTNOTES:

[56] Chéfu amongst the Manganja. Any animal possessing strength, has
the terminal "fu" or "vu;" thus Njobvu, an elephant; M'vu, the
hippopotamus.--ED.

[57] The natives are quick to detect a peculiarity in a man, and give
him a name accordingly: the conquerors of a country try to forestall
them by selecting one for themselves. Susi states that when Tipo Tipo
stood over the spoil taken from Nsama, he gathered it closer together
and said, "Now I am Tipo Tipo," that is, "the gatherer together of
wealth." Kumba Kumba, of whom we shall hear much, took his name from
the number of captives he gathered in his train under similar
circumstances; it might be translated, "the collector of people."--ED.

[58] It is on the West Coast alone that idols are really worshipped in
Africa.--ED.




CHAPTER X.

    Grand reception of the traveller. Casenibe and his wife. Long
    stay in the town. Goes to explore Moero. Despatch to Lord
    Clarendon, with notes on recent travels. Illness at the end of
    1867. Further exploration of Lake Moero. Flooded plains. The
    River Luao. Visits Kabwawata. Joy of Arabs at Mohamad bin
    Saleh's freedom. Again ill with fever. Stories of underground
    dwellings.


_24th November, 1867._--We were called to be presented to Casembe in a
grand reception.

The present Casembe has a heavy uninteresting countenance, without
beard or whiskers, and somewhat of the Chinese type, and his eyes have
an outward squint. He smiled but once during the day, and that was
pleasant enough, though the cropped ears and lopped hands, with human
skulls at the gate, made me indisposed to look on anything with
favour. His principal wife came with her attendants, after he had
departed, to look at the Englishman (Moenge-résé). She was a fine,
tall, good-featured lady, with two spears in her hand; the principal
men who had come around made way for her, and called on me to salute:
I did so; but she, being forty yards off, I involuntarily beckoned her
to come nearer: this upset the gravity of all her attendants; all
burst into a laugh, and ran off.

Casembe's smile was elicited by the dwarf making some uncouth antics
before him. His executioner also came forward to look: he had a broad
Lunda sword on his arm, and a curious scizzor-like instrument at his
neck for cropping ears. On saying to him that his was nasty work, he
smiled, and so did many who were not sure of their ears a moment: many
men of respectability show that at some former time they have been
thus punished. Casembe sent us another large basket of fire-dried fish
in addition to that sent us at Chungu, two baskets of flour, one of
dried cassava, and a pot of pombe or beer. Mohamad, who was accustomed
to much more liberal Casembes, thinks this one very stingy, having
neither generosity nor good sense; but as we cannot consume all he
gives, we do not complain.

_27th November, 1867._--Casembe's chief wife passes frequently to her
plantation, carried by six, or more commonly by twelve men in a sort
of palanquin: she has European features, but light-brown complexion. A
number of men run before her, brandishing swords and battle-axes, and
one beats a hollow instrument, giving warning to passengers to clear
the way: she has two enormous pipes ready filled for smoking. She is
very attentive to her agriculture; cassava is the chief product; sweet
potatoes, maize, sorghum, pennisetum, millet, ground-nuts, cotton. The
people seem more savage than any I have yet seen: they strike each
other barbarously from mere wantonness, but they are civil enough to
me.

Mohamad bin Saleh proposes to go to Ujiji next month. He waited when
he heard of our coming, in order that we might go together: he has a
very low opinion of the present chief. The area which has served for
building the chief town at different times is about ten miles in
diameter.

Mofwé is a shallow piece of water about two miles broad, four or less
long, full of sedgy islands, the abodes of waterfowl, but some are
solid enough to be cultivated. The bottom is mud, though sandy at the
east shore: it has no communication with the Luapula. _(28th
November, 1867._) The Lundé, Chungu, and Mandapala are said to join
and flow into Moero. Fish are in great abundance (perch). On the west
side there is a grove of palm-oil palms, and beyond west rises a long
range of mountains of the Rua country 15 or 20 miles off.

_1st December, 1867._--An old man named Pérémbé is the owner of the
land on which Casembe has built. They always keep up the traditional
ownership. Munongo is a brother of Pérémbé, and he owns the country
east of the Kalongosi: if any one wished to cultivate land he would
apply to these aboriginal chiefs for it.

I asked a man from Casembe to guide me to south end of Moero, but he
advised me not to go as it was so marshy. The Lundé forms a marsh on
one side, and the Luapula lets water percolate through sand and mud,
and so does the Robukwé, which makes the path often knee deep. He said
he would send men to conduct me to Moero, a little further down, and
added that we had got very little to eat from him, and he wanted to
give more. Moero's south end is about 9° 30' S.

Old Pérémbé is a sensible man: Mohamad thinks him 150 years old. He is
always on the side of liberality and fairness; he says that the first
Casembe was attracted to Mofwé by the abundance of fish in it. He has
the idea of all men being derived from a single pair.

_7th December, 1867._--It is very cloudy here; no observations can be
made, as it clouds over every afternoon and night. _(8th and 11th
December, 1867._) Cleared off last night, but intermittent fever
prevented my going out.

_13th December, 1867._--Set-in rains. A number of fine young girls who
live in Casembe's compound came and shook hands in their way, which is
to cross the right over to your left, and clasp them; then give a few
claps with both hands, and repeat the crossed clasp: they want to
tell their children that they have seen me.

_15th December, 1867._--To-day I announced to Casembe our intention of
going away. Two traders got the same return present from him that I
did, namely, one goat and some fish, meal and cassava. I am always ill
when not working; I spend my time writing letters, to be ready when we
come to Ujiji. _(18th December, 1867._) We have been here a month, and
I cannot get more than two lunars: I got altitudes of the meridian of
stars north and south soon after we came, but not lunars. Casembe sent
a big basket of fire-dried fish, two pots of beer, and a basket of
cassava, and says we may go when we choose.

_19th December, 1867._--On going to say good-bye to Casembe, he tried
to be gracious, said that we had eaten but little of his food; yet he
allowed us to go. He sent for a man to escort us; and on the _22nd
December, 1867._ we went to Lundé River, crossed it, and went on to
sleep at the Chungu, close by the place where Casembe's court stood
when Dr. Lacerda came, for the town was moved further west as soon as
the Doctor died. There are many palm-oil palms about, but no tradition
exists of their introduction.

_23rd December, 1867._--We crossed the Chungu. Rain from above, and
cold and wet to the waist below, as I do not lift my shirt, because
the white skin makes all stare. I saw black monkeys at this spot. The
Chungu is joined by the Kaleusi and the Mandapala before it enters
Moero. Casembe said that the Lundé ran into Mofwé; others denied this,
and said that it formed a marsh with numbers of pools in long grass;
but it may ooze into Mofwé thus. Casembe sent three men to guide me to
Moero.

_24th December, 1867._--Drizzly rain, and we are in a miserable spot
by the Kabusi, in a bed of brakens four feet high. The guides won't
stir in this weather. I gave beads to buy what could be got for
Christmas.

_25th December, 1867._--Drizzly showers every now and then; soil,
black mud.

About ten men came as guides and as a convoy of honour to Mohamad.

_27th December, 1867._--In two hours we crossed Mandapala, now waist
deep. This part was well stocked with people five years ago, but
Casembe's severity in cropping ears and other mutilations, selling the
children for slight offences, &c., made them all flee to neighbouring
tribes; and now, if he sent all over the country, he could not collect
a thousand men.

[Livingstone refers (on the 15th Dec.) to some writings he was engaged
upon, and we find one of them here in his journal which takes the form
of a despatch to Lord Clarendon, with a note attached to the effect
that it was not copied or sent, as he had no paper for the purpose. It
affords an epitomised description of his late travels, and the stay at
Casembe, and is inserted here in the place of many notes written
daily, but which only repeat the same events and observations in a
less readable form. It is especially valuable at this stage of his
journal, because it treats on the whole geography of the district
between Lakes Nyassa and Moero, with a broad handling which is
impossible in the mere jottings of a diary.]

    Town Of Casembe, _10th December, 1867._.

    Lat. 9° 37' 13" South; long. 28° East.

    The Right Honourable the Earl of Clarendon.

    My Lord,--The first opportunity I had of sending a letter to the
    coast occurred in February last, when I was at a village called
    Molemba (lat. 10° 14' S.; long. 31° 46' E.), in the country
    named Lobemba. Lobisa, Lobemba, Ulungu and Itawa-Lunda are the
    names by which the districts of an elevated region between the
    parallels 11° and 8° south, and meridians 28°-33° long. east,
    are known. The altitude of this upland is from 4000 to 6000 feet
    above the level of the sea. It is generally covered with forest,
    well watered by numerous rivulets, and comparatively cold. The
    soil is very rich, and yields abundantly wherever cultivated.
    This is the watershed between the Loangwa, a tributary of the
    Zambesi, and several rivers which flow towards the north. Of the
    latter, the most remarkable is the Chambezé, for it assists in
    the formation of three lakes, and changes its name three times
    in the five or six hundred miles of its course.

    On leaving Lobemba we entered Ulungu, and, as we proceeded
    northwards, perceived by the barometers and the courses of
    numerous rivulets, that a decided slope lay in that direction. A
    friendly old Ulungu chief, named Kasonso, on hearing that I
    wished to visit Lake Liemba, which lies in his country, gave his
    son with a large escort to guide me thither; and on the 2nd
    April last we reached the brim of the deep cup-like cavity in
    which the Lake reposes. The descent is 2000 feet, and still the
    surface of the water is upwards of 2500 feet above the level of
    the sea. The sides of the hollow are very steep, and sometimes
    the rocks run the whole 2000 feet sheer down to the water.
    Nowhere is there three miles of level land from the foot of the
    cliffs to the shore, but top, sides, and bottom are covered with
    well-grown wood and grass, except where the bare rocks protrude.
    The scenery is extremely beautiful. The "Aeasy," a stream of 15
    yards broad and thigh deep, came down alongside our precipitous
    path, and formed cascades by leaping 300 feet at a time. These,
    with the bright red of the clay schists among the
    greenwood-trees, made the dullest of my attendants pause and
    remark with wonder. Antelopes, buffaloes, and elephants abound
    on the steep slopes; and hippopotami, crocodiles, and fish
    swarm in the water. Gnus are here unknown, and these animals may
    live to old age if not beguiled into pitfalls. The elephants
    sometimes eat the crops of the natives, and flap their big ears
    just outside the village stockades. One got out of our way on to
    a comparatively level spot, and then stood and roared at us.
    Elsewhere they make clear off at sight of man.

    The first village we came to on the banks of the Lake had a
    grove of palm-oil and other trees around it. This palm tree was
    not the dwarf species seen on Lake Nyassa. A cluster of the
    fruit passed the door of my hut which required two men to carry
    it. The fruit seemed quite as large as those on the West Coast.
    Most of the natives live on two islands, where they cultivate
    the soil, rear goats, and catch fish. The Lake is not large,
    from 15 to 20 miles broad, and from 30 to 40 long. It is the
    receptacle of four considerable streams, and sends out an arm
    two miles broad to the N.N.W., it is said to Tanganyika, and it
    may be a branch of that Lake. One of the streams, the Lonzua,
    drives a smooth body of water into the Lake fifty yards broad
    and ten fathoms deep, bearing on its surface duckweed and grassy
    islands. I could see the mouths of other streams, but got near
    enough to measure the Lofu only; and at a ford fifty miles from
    the confluence it was 100 yards wide and waist deep in the dry
    season.

    We remained six weeks on the shores of the Lake, trying to pick
    up some flesh and strength. A party of Arabs came into Ulungu
    after us in search of ivory, and hearing that an Englishman had
    preceded them, naturally inquired where I was. But our friends,
    the Bäulungu, suspecting that mischief was meant, stoutly denied
    that they had ever seen anything of the sort; and then became
    very urgent that I should go on to one of the inhabited islands
    for safety. I regret that I suspected them of intending to make
    me a prisoner there, which they could easily have done by
    removing the canoes; but when the villagers who deceived the
    Arabs told me afterwards with an air of triumph how nicely they
    had managed, I saw that they had only been anxious for my
    safety. On three occasions the same friendly disposition was
    shown; and when we went round the west side of the Lake in order
    to examine the arm or branch above referred to, the headman at
    the confluence of the Lofu protested so strongly against my
    going--the Arabs had been fighting, and I might be mistaken for
    an Arab, and killed--that I felt half-inclined to believe him.
    Two Arab slaves entered the village the same afternoon in search
    of ivory, and confirmed all he had said. We now altered our
    course, intending to go south about the district disturbed by
    the Arabs. When we had gone 60 miles we heard that the
    head-quarters of the Arabs were 22 miles further. They had found
    ivory very cheap, and pushed on to the west, till attacked by a
    chief named, Nsama, whom they beat in his own stockade. They
    were now at a loss which way to turn. On reaching Chitimba's
    village (lat. 8° 57' 55" S.; long. 30° 20' E.), I found them
    about 600 in all; and, on presenting a letter I had from the
    Sultan of Zanzibar, was immediately supplied with provisions,
    beads, and cloth. They approved of my plan of passing to the
    south of Nsama's country, but advised waiting till the effects
    of punishment, which the Bäulungu had resolved to inflict on
    Nsama for breach of public law, were known. It had always been
    understood that whoever brought goods into the country was to be
    protected; and two hours after my arrival at Chitimba's, the son
    of Kasonso, our guide, marched in with his contingent. It was
    anticipated that Nsama might flee; if to the north, he would
    leave me a free passage through his country; if to the south, I
    might be saved from walking into his hands. But it turned out
    that Nsama was anxious for peace. He had sent two men with
    elephants' tusks to begin a negotiation; but treachery was
    suspected, and they were shot down. Another effort was made with
    ten goats, and repulsed. This was much to the regret of the head
    Arabs. It was fortunate for me that the Arab goods were not all
    sold, for Lake Moero lay in Nsama's country, and without peace
    no ivory could be bought, nor could I reach the Lake. The
    peace-making between the people and Arabs was, however, a
    tedious process, occupying three and a half months--drinking
    each other's blood. This, as I saw it west of this in 1854, is
    not more horrible than the thirtieth dilution of deadly
    night-shade or strychnine is in homoeopathy. I thought that had
    I been an Arab I could easily swallow that, but not the next
    means of cementing the peace--marrying a black wife. Nsama's
    daughter was the bride, and she turned out very pretty. She came
    riding pickaback on a man's shoulders: this is the most
    dignified conveyance that chiefs and their families can command.
    She had ten maids with her, each carrying a basket of
    provisions, and all having the same beautiful features as
    herself. She was taken by the principal Arab, but soon showed
    that she preferred her father to her husband, for seeing
    preparations made to send off to purchase ivory, she suspected
    that her father was to be attacked, and made her escape. I then,
    visited Nsama, and, as he objected to many people coming near
    him, took only three of my eight attendants. His people were
    very much afraid of fire-arms, and felt all my clothing to see
    if I had any concealed on my person. Nsama is an old man, with
    head and face like those sculptured on the Assyrian monuments.
    He has been a great conqueror in his time, and with bows and
    arrows was invincible. He is said to have destroyed many native
    traders from Tanganyika, but twenty Arab guns made him flee from
    his own stockade, and caused a great sensation in the country.
    He was much taken with my hair and woollen clothing; but his
    people, heedless of his scolding, so pressed upon us that we
    could not converse, and, after promising to send for me to talk
    during the night, our interview ended. He promised guides to
    Moero, and sent us more provisions than we could carry; but
    showed so much distrust, that after all we went without his
    assistance.

    Nsama's people are particularly handsome. Many of the men have
    as beautiful heads as one could find in an assembly of
    Europeans. All have very fine forms, with small hands and feet.
    None of the West-coast ugliness, from which most of our ideas of
    the Negroes are derived, is here to be seen. No prognathous jaws
    nor lark-heels offended the sight. My observations deepened the
    impression first obtained from the remarks of Winwood Reade,
    that the typical Negro is seen in the ancient Egyptian, and not
    in the ungainly forms; which grow up in the unhealthy swamps of
    the West Coast. Indeed it is probable that this upland forest
    region is the true home of the Negro. The women excited the
    admiration of the Arabs. They have fine, small, well-formed
    features: their great defect is one of fashion, which does not
    extend to the next tribe; they file their teeth to points, the
    hussies, and that makes their smile like that of the crocodile.

    Nsama's country is called Itawa, and his principal town is in
    lat. 8° 55' S., and long. 29° 21' E. From the large population
    he had under him, Itawa is in many parts well cleared of trees
    for cultivation, and it is lower than Ulungu, being generally
    about 3000 feet above the sea. Long lines of tree-covered hills
    raised some 600 or 700 feet above these valleys of denudation,
    prevent the scenery from being monotonous. Large game is
    abundant. Elephants, buffaloes, and zebras grazed in large
    numbers on the long sloping, banks of a river called Chiséra, a
    mile and a half broad. In going north we crossed this river, or
    rather marsh, which is full of papyrus plants and reeds. Our
    ford was an elephant's path; and the roots of the papyrus,
    though a carpet to these animals, were sharp and sore to feet
    usually protected by shoes, and often made us shrink and
    flounder into holes chest deep. The Chiséra forms a larger marsh
    west of this, and it gives off its water to the Kalongosi, a
    feeder of Lake Moero.

    The Arabs sent out men in all directions to purchase ivory; but
    their victory over Nsama had created a panic among the tribes
    which no verbal assurances could allay. If Nsama had been routed
    by twenty Arab guns no one could stand before them but Casembe;
    and Casembe had issued strict orders to his people not to allow
    the Arabs who fought Nsama to enter his country. They did not
    attempt to force their way, but after sending friendly messages
    and presents to different chiefs, when these were not cordially
    received, turned off in some other direction, and at last,
    despairing of more ivory, turned homewards. From first to last
    they were extremely kind to me, and showed all due respect to
    the Sultan's letter. I am glad that I was witness to their mode
    of trading in ivory and slaves. It formed a complete contrast to
    the atrocious dealings of the Kilwa traders, who are supposed to
    be, but are not, the subjects of the same Sultan. If one wished
    to depict the slave-trade in its most attractive, or rather
    least objectionable, form, he would accompany these gentlemen
    subjects of the Sultan of Zanzibar. If he would describe the
    land traffic in its most disgusting phases he would follow the
    Kilwa traders along the road to Nyassa, or the Portuguese
    half-castes from Tette to the River Shiré.

    Keeping to the north of Nsama altogether, and moving westwards,
    our small party reached the north end of Moero on the 8th
    November last. There the Lake is a goodly piece of water twelve
    or more miles broad, and flanked on the east and west by ranges
    of lofty tree-covered mountains. The range on the west is the
    highest, and is part of the country called Rua-Moero; it gives
    off a river at its north-west end called Lualaba, and receives
    the River Kalongosi (pronounced by the Arabs Karungwesi) on the
    east near its middle, and the rivers Luapula and Rovukwé at its
    southern extremity. The point of most interest in Lake Moero is
    that it forms one of a chain of lakes, connected by a river some
    500 miles in length. First of all the Chambezé rises in the
    country of Mambwé, N.E. of Molemba. It then flows south-west and
    west till it reaches lat. 11° S., 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 Moero. 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
    Urengé or Ulengé. Beyond this, information is not positive as to
    whether it enters Tanganyika or another Lake beyond that. When I
    crossed the Chambezé, the similarity of names led me to imagine
    that this was a branch of the Zambesi. The natives said, "No.
    This goes south-west, and forms a very large water there." But I
    had become prepossessed with the idea that Lake Liemba was that
    Bemba of which I had heard in 1863, and we had been so starved
    in the south that I gladly set my face north. The river-like
    prolongation of Liemba might go to Moero, and where I could not
    follow the arm of Liemba. Then I worked my way to this Lake.
    Since coming to Casembe's the testimony of natives and Arabs has
    been so united and consistent, that I am but ten days from Lake
    Bemba, or Bangweolo, that I cannot doubt its accuracy. I am so
    tired of exploration without a word from home or anywhere else
    for two years, that I must go to Ujiji on Tanganyika for letters
    before doing anything else. The banks and country adjacent to
    Lake Bangweolo are reported to be now very muddy and very
    unhealthy. I have no medicine. The inhabitants suffer greatly
    from swelled thyroid gland or Derbyshire neck and
    elephantiasis, and this is the rainy season and very unsafe for
    me.

    When at the lower end of Moero we were so near Casembe that it
    was thought well to ascertain the length of the Lake, and see
    Casembe too. We came up between the double range that flanks the
    east of the Lake; but mountains and plains are so covered with
    well-grown forest that we could seldom see it. We reached
    Casembe's town on the 28th November. It stands near the north
    end of the Lakelet Mofwé; this is from one to three miles broad,
    and some six or seven long: it is full of sedgy islands, and
    abounds in fish. The country is quite level, but fifteen or
    twenty miles west of Mofwé we see a long range of the mountains
    of Rua. Between this range and Mofwé the Luapula flows past into
    Moero, the Lake called Moero okata = the great Moero, being
    about fifty miles long. The town of Casembe covers a mile square
    of cassava plantations, the huts being dotted over that space.
    Some have square enclosures of reeds, but no attempt has been
    made at arrangement: it might be called a rural village rather
    than a town. No estimate could be formed by counting the huts,
    they were so irregularly planted, and hidden by cassava; but my
    impression from other collections of huts was that the
    population was under a thousand souls. The court or compound of
    Casembe--some would call it a palace--is a square enclosure of
    300 yards by 200 yards. It is surrounded by a hedge of high
    reeds. Inside, where Casembe honoured me with a grand reception,
    stands a gigantic hut for Casembe, and a score of small huts for
    domestics. The Queen's hut stands behind that of the chief, with
    a number of small huts also. Most of the enclosed space is
    covered with a plantation of cassava, _Curcus purgaris_, and
    cotton. Casembe sat before his hut on a equate seat placed on
    lion and leopard skins. He was clothed in a coarse blue and
    white Manchester print edged with red baize, and arranged in
    large folds so as to look like a crinoline put on wrong side
    foremost. His arms, legs and head were covered with sleeves,
    leggings and cap made of various coloured beads in neat
    patterns: a crown of yellow feathers surmounted his cap. Each of
    his headmen came forward, shaded by a huge, ill-made umbrella,
    and followed by his dependants, made obeisance to Casembe, and
    sat down on his right and left: various bands of musicians did
    the same. When called upon I rose and bowed, and an old
    counsellor, with his ears cropped, gave the chief as full an
    account as he had been able to gather during our stay of the
    English in general, and my antecedents in particular. My having
    passed through Lunda to the west of Casembe, and visited chiefs
    of whom he scarcely knew anything, excited most attention. He
    then assured me that I was welcome to his country, to go where I
    liked, and do what I chose. We then went (two boys carrying his
    train behind him) to an inner apartment, where the articles of
    my present were exhibited in detail. He had examined them
    privately before, and we knew that he was satisfied. They
    consisted of eight yards of orange-coloured serge, a large
    striped tablecloth; another large cloth made at Manchester in
    imitation of West Coast native manufacture, which never fails to
    excite the admiration of Arabs and natives, and a large richly
    gilded comb for the back hair, such as ladies wore fifty years
    ago: this was given to me by a friend at Liverpool, and as
    Casembe and Nsama's people cultivate the hair into large knobs
    behind, I was sure that this article would tickle the fancy.
    Casembe expressed himself pleased, and again bade me welcome.

    I had another interview, and tried to dissuade him from selling
    his people as slaves. He listened awhile, then broke off into a
    tirade on the greatness of his country, his power and dominion,
    which Mohamad bin Saleh, who has been here for ten years,
    turned into ridicule, and made the audience laugh by telling how
    other Lunda chiefs had given me oxen and sheep, while Casembe
    had only a poor little goat and some fish to bestow. He insisted
    also that there were but two sovereigns in the world, the Sultan
    of Zanzibar and Victoria. When we went on a third occasion to
    bid Casembe farewell, he was much less distant, and gave me the
    impression that I could soon become friends with him; but he has
    an ungainly look, and an outward squint in each eye. A number of
    human skulls adorned the entrance to his courtyard; and great
    numbers of his principal men having their ears cropped, and some
    with their hands lopped off, showed his barbarous way of making
    his ministers attentive and honest. I could not avoid indulging
    a prejudice against him.

    The Portuguese visited Casembe long ago; but as each new Casembe
    builds a new town, it is not easy to fix on the exact spot to
    which strangers came. The last seven Casembes have had their
    towns within seven miles of the present one. Dr. Lacerda,
    Governor of Tette, on the Zambesi, was the only visitor of
    scientific attainments, and he died at the rivulet called
    Chungu, three or four miles from this. The spot is called
    Nshinda, or Inchinda, which the Portuguese wrote Lucenda or
    Ucenda. The latitude given is nearly fifty miles wrong, but the
    natives say that he lived only ten days after his arrival, and
    if, as is probable, his mind was clouded with fever when he last
    observed, those who have experienced what that is will readily
    excuse any mistake he may have made. His object was to
    accomplish a much-desired project of the Portuguese to have an
    overland communication between their eastern and western
    possessions. This was never made by any of the Portuguese
    nation; but two black traders succeeded partially with a part of
    the distance, crossing once from Cassangé, in Angola, to Tette
    on the Zambesi, and returning with a letter from the Governor
    of Mosambique. It is remarkable that this journey, which was
    less by a thousand miles than from sea to sea and back again,
    should have for ever quenched all white Portuguese aspirations
    for an overland route.

    The different Casembes visited by the Portuguese seem to have
    varied much in character and otherwise. Pereira, the first
    visitor, said (I quote from memory) that Casembe had 20,000
    trained soldiers, watered his streets daily, and sacrificed
    twenty human victims every day. I could hear nothing of human
    sacrifices now, and it is questionable if the present Casembe
    could bring a thousand stragglers into the field. When he
    usurped power five years ago, his country was densely peopled;
    but he was so severe in his punishments--cropping the ears,
    lopping off the hands, and other mutilations, selling the
    children for very slight offences, that his subjects gradually
    dispersed themselves in the neighbouring countries beyond his
    power. This is the common mode by which tyranny is cured in
    parts like these, where fugitives are never returned. The
    present Casembe is very poor. When he had people who killed
    elephants he was too stingy to share the profits of the sale of
    the ivory with his subordinates. The elephant hunters have
    either left him or neglect hunting, so he has now no tusks to
    sell to the Arab traders who come from Tanganyika. Major
    Monteiro, the third Portuguese who visited Casembe, appears to
    have been badly treated by this man's predecessor, and no other
    of his nation has ventured so far since. They do not lose much
    by remaining away, for a little ivory and slaves are all that
    Casembe ever can have to sell. About a month to the west of this
    the people of Katanga smelt copper-ore (malachite) into large
    bars shaped like the capital letter I. They may be met with of
    from 50 lbs. to 100 lbs., weight all over the country, and the
    inhabitants draw the copper into wire for armlets and leglets.
    Gold is also found at Katanga, and specimens were lately sent
    to the Sultan of Zanzibar.

    As we come down from the watershed towards Tanganyika we enter an
    area of the earth's surface still disturbed by internal igneous
    action. A hot fountain in the country of Nsama is often used to
    boil cassava and maize. Earthquakes are by no means rare. We
    experienced the shock of one while at Chitimba's village, and
    they extend as far as Casembe's. I felt as if afloat, and as huts
    would not fall there was no sense of danger; some of them that
    happened at night set the fowls a cackling. The most remarkable
    effect of this one was that it changed the rates of the
    chronometers; no rain fell after it. No one had access to the
    chronometers but myself, and, as I never heard of this effect
    before, I may mention that one which lost with great regularity
    1.5 sec. daily, lost 15 sec.; another; whose rate since leaving
    the coast was 15 sec., lost 40 sec.; and a third, which gained 6
    sec. daily, stopped altogether. Some of Nsama's people ascribed
    the earthquakes to the hot fountain, because it showed unusual
    commotion on these occasions; another hot fountain exists near
    Tanganyika than Nsama's, and we passed one on the shores of
    Moero.

    We could not understand why the natives called Moero much larger
    than Tanganyika till we saw both. The greater Lake lies in a
    comparatively narrow trough, with highland on each side, which
    is always visible; but when we look at Moero, to the south of
    the mountains of Rua on the west, we have nothing but an
    apparently boundless sea horizon. The Luapula and Rovukwé form a
    marsh at the southern extremity, and Casembe dissuaded me from
    entering it, but sent a man to guide me to different points of
    Moero further down. From the heights at which the southern
    portions were seen, it must be from forty to sixty miles broad.
    From the south end of the mountains of Rua (9° 4' south lat.) it
    is thirty-three miles broad. No native ever attempts to cross
    it even there. Its fisheries are of great value to the
    inhabitants, and the produce is carried to great distances.

    Among the vegetable products of this region, that which
    interested me most was a sort of potato. It does not belong to
    the solanaceous, but to the papilionaceous or pea family, and
    its flowers have a delightful fragrance. It is easily propagated
    by small cuttings of the root or stalk. The tuber is oblong,
    like our kidney potato, and when boiled tastes exactly like our
    common potato. When unripe it has a slight degree of bitterness,
    and it is believed to be wholesome; a piece of the root eaten
    raw is a good remedy in nausea. It is met with on the uplands
    alone, and seems incapable of bearing much heat, though I kept
    some of the roots without earth in a box, which was carried in
    the sun almost daily for six months, without destroying their
    vegetative power.

    It is remarkable that in all the central regions of Africa
    visited, the cotton is that known as the Pernambuco variety. It
    has a long strong staple, seeds clustered together, and adherent
    to each other. The bushes eight or ten feet high have woody
    stems, and the people make strong striped black and white shawls
    of the cotton.

    It was pleasant to meet the palm-oil palm (_Elais Guineaensis_)
    at Casembe's, which is over 3000 feet above the level of the
    sea. The oil is sold cheap, but no tradition exists of its
    introduction into the country.

    I send no sketch of the country, because I have not yet passed
    over a sufficient surface to give a connected view of the whole
    watershed of this region, and I regret that I cannot recommend
    any of the published maps I have seen as giving even a tolerable
    idea of the country. One bold constructor of maps has tacked on
    200 miles to the north-west end of Lake Nyassa, a feat which no
    traveller has ever ventured to imitate. Another has placed a
    river in the same quarter running 3000 or 4000 feet up hill,
    and named it the "NEW ZAMBESI," because I suppose the old
    Zambesi runs down hill. I have walked over both these mental
    abortions, and did not know that I was walking on water till I
    saw them in the maps.

[The despatch breaks off at this point. The year concludes with health
impaired. As time goes on we shall see how ominous the conviction was
which made him dread the swamps of Bangweolo.]

_28-31st December, 1867._--We came on to the rivulet Chirongo, and
then to the Kabukwa, where I was taken ill. Heavy rains kept the
convoy back. I have had nothing but coarsely-ground sorghum meal for
some time back, and am weak; I used to be the first in the line of
march, and am now the last; Mohamad presented a meal of finely-ground
porridge and a fowl, and I immediately felt the difference, though I
was not grumbling at my coarse dishes. It is well that I did not go to
Bangweolo Lake, for it is now very unhealthy to the natives, and I
fear that without medicine continual wettings by fording rivulets
might have knocked me up altogether. As I have mentioned, the people
suffer greatly from swelled thyroid gland or Derbyshire neck and
Elephantiasis scroti.

_1st January, 1868._--Almighty Father, forgive the sins of the past
year for Thy Son's sake. Help me to be more profitable during this
year. If I am to die this year prepare me for it.

       *       *       *       *       *

I bought five hoes at two or three yards of calico each: they are
13-1/2 inches by 6-1/2 inches; many are made in Casembe's country, and
this is the last place we can find them: when we come into Buiré we
can purchase a good goat for one; one of my goats died and the other
dried up. I long for others, for milk is the most strengthening food
I can get.

My guide to Moero came to-day, and I visited the Lake several times,
so as to get a good idea of its size. The first fifteen miles in the
north are from twelve or more to thirty-three miles broad. The great
mass of the Rua Mountains confines it. Thus in a clear day a lower
range is seen continued from the high point of the first mass away to
the west south-west, this ends, and sea horizon is alone visible away
to the south and west; from the height we viewed it at, the width must
be over forty, perhaps sixty miles. A large island, called Kirwa,[59]
is situated between the Mandapala and Kabukwa Rivers, but nearest to
the other shore. The natives never attempt to cross any part of the
Lake south of this Kirwa. Land could not be seen with a good glass on
the clearest day we had. I can understand why the natives pronounced
Moero to be larger than Tanganyika: in the last named they see the
land always on both sides; it is like a vast trough flanked with
highlands, but at Moero nothing but sea horizon can be seen when one
looks south-west of the Rua Mountains.

At the Kalongosi meadow one of Mohamad's men shot a buffalo, and he
gave me a leg of the good beefy flesh. Our course was slow, caused
partly by rains, and partly by waiting for the convoy. The people at
Kalongosi were afraid to ferry us or any of his people in the convoy
out of Casembe's country; but at last we gave a good fee, and their
scruples yielded: they were influenced also by seeing other villagers
ready to undertake the job; the latter nearly fought over us on seeing
that their neighbours got all the fare.

We then came along the Lake, and close to its shores. The moisture
caused a profusion of gingers, ferns, and tropical forest: buffaloes,
zebras and elephants are numerous, and the villagers at Chukosi's,
where we slept, warned us against lions and leopards.

_12th January, 1868._--Sunday at Karembwé's village. The mountains
east of him are called Makunga. We went yesterday to the shore, and by
protraction Rua point was distant thirty-three miles. Karembwé sent
for us, to have an audience; he is a large man with a gruff voice, but
liked by his people and by strangers. I gave him a cloth, and he gave
me a goat. The enthusiasm with which I held on to visit Moero had
communicated itself to Tipo Tipo and Syde bin Alle, for they followed
me up to this place to see the Lake, and remained five days while we
were at Casembe's. Other Arabs, or rather Suahelis, must have seen it,
but never mentioned it as anything worth looking at; and it was only
when all hope of ivory was gone that these two headmen found time to
come. There is a large population here.

_13th January, 1868._--Heavy rains. Karembé mentioned a natural
curiosity as likely to interest me: a little rivulet, Chipamba, goes
some distance underground, but is uninteresting.

Next day we crossed the Vuna, a strong torrent, which, has a hot
fountain close by the ford, in which maize and cassava may be boiled.
A large one in Nsama's country is used in the same way, maize and
cassava being tied to a string and thrown in to be cooked: some
natives believe that earthquakes are connected with its violent
ebullitions. We crossed the Katétté, another strong torrent, before
reaching the north end of Moero, where we slept in some travellers'
huts.

Leaving the Lake, and going north, we soon got on to a plain flooded
by the Luao. We had to wade through very adhesive black mud, generally
ankle deep, and having many holes in it much deeper: we had four
hours of this, and then came to the ford of the Luao itself. We waded
up a branch of it waist deep for at least a quarter of a mile, then
crossed a narrow part by means of a rude bridge of branches and trees,
of about forty yards width. The Luao, in spreading over the plains,
confers benefits on the inhabitants, though I could not help
concluding it imparts disease too, for the black mud in places smells
horribly. Great numbers of Siluridae, chiefly _Clarias Capensis_,
often three feet in length, spread over the flooded portions of the
country, eating the young of other fishes, and insects, lizards, and
worms, killed by the waters. The people make weirs for them, and as
the waters retire kill large numbers, which they use as a relish to
their farinaceous food.

_16th January, 1868._--After sleeping near the Luao we went on towards
the village, in which Mohamad's son lives. It is on the Kakoma Eiver,
and is called Kabwabwata, the village of Mubao. In many of the
villages the people shut their stockades as soon as we appear, and
stand bows and arrows in hand till we have passed: the reason seems to
be that the slaves when out of sight of their masters carry things
with a high hand, demanding food and other things as if they had power
and authority. One slave stole two tobacco pipes yesterday in passing
through a village; the villagers complained to me when I came up, and
I waited till Mohamad came and told him; we then went forward, the men
keeping close to me till we got the slave and the pipes. They stole
cassava as we went along, but this could scarcely be prevented. They
laid hold of a plant an inch-and-a-half thick, and tore it out of the
soft soil with its five or six roots as large as our largest carrots,
stowed the roots away in their loads, and went on eating them; but the
stalk thrown among those still growing shows the theft. The raw roots
are agreeable and nutritious. No great harm is done by this, for the
gardens are so large, but it inspires distrust in the inhabitants, and
makes it dangerous for Arabs to travel not fully manned and armed.

On reaching the village Kabwabwata a great demonstration was made by
Mohamad's Arab dependants and Wanyamwesi: the women had their faces
all smeared with pipeclay, and lullilooed with all their might. When
we came among the huts, they cast handfuls of soil on their heads,
while the men fired off their guns as fast as they could load them.
Those connected with Mohamad ran and kissed his hands, and fired, till
the sound of shouting, lullilooing, clapping of hands, and shooting
was deafening: Mohamad was quite overcome by this demonstration, and
it was long before he could still them.

On the way to this village from the south we observed an extensive
breadth of land, under ground-nuts which are made into oil: a large
jar of this is sold for a hoe. The ground-nuts were now in flower, and
green maize ready to be eaten. People all busy planting,
transplanting, or weeding; they plant cassava on mounds prepared for
it, on which they have sown beans, sorghum, maize, pumpkins: these
ripen, and leave the cassava a free soil. The sorghum or dura is sown
thickly, and when about a foot high--if the owner has been able to
prepare the soil elsewhere--it is transplanted, a portion of the
leaves being cut off to prevent too great evaporation and the death of
the plant.

_17th January, 1868._--The Wanyamwesi and people of Garaganza say that
we have thirteen days' march from this to the Tanganyika Lake. It is
often muddy, and many rivulets are to be crossed.

Mohamad is naturally anxious to stay a little while with his son, for
it is a wet season, and the mud is disagreeable to travel over: it is
said to be worse near Ujiji: he cooks small delicacies for me with the
little he has, and tries to make me comfortable. Vinegar is made from
bananas, and oil from ground-nuts. I am anxious to be off, but
chiefly to get news.

I find that many Unyamwesi people are waiting here, on account of the
great quantity of rainwater in front: it would be difficult, they say,
to get canoes on Tanganyika, as the waves are now large.

_24th January, 1868._--Two of Mohamad Bogharib's people came from
Casembe's to trade here, and a body of Syde bin Habib's people also
from Garaganza, near Kazé, they report the flooded lands on this side
of Lake Tanganyika as waist and chest deep. Bin Habib, being at
Katanga, will not stir till the rains are over, and I fear we are
storm-stayed till then too. The feeders of the Marungu are not
fordable just now, and no canoes are to be had.

_26th and 27th January, 1868._--I am ill with fever, as I always am
when stationary.

_28th January, 1868._--Better, and thankful to Him of the Greatest
Name. We must remain; it is a dry spot, and favourable for
ground-nuts. _Hooping-cough_ here.

_30th January, 1868._--The earth cooled by the rain last night sets
all to transplanting dura or sorghum; they cut the leaves till only
about eighteen inches of them are left, but it grows all the better
for the change of place.

Mohamad believes that Tanganyika flows through Rusizi to Lohindé.
(Chuambo.)

Seyd Seyd is said to have been the first Arab Sultan who traded, and
Seyed Majid follows the example of his father, and has many Arab
traders in his employment. He lately sent eight buffaloes to Mtéza,
king of Uganda, son of Sunna, by way of increasing his trade, but if
is not likely that he will give up the lucrative trade in ivory and
slaves.

Susi bought a hoe with a little gunpowder, then a cylinder of dura,
three feet long by two feet in diameter, for the hoe: it is at least
one hundredweight.

Stone underground houses are reported in Rua, but whether natural or
artificial Mohamad could not say. If a present is made to the Rua
chiefs they never obstruct passengers.

Chikosi, at whose village we passed a night, near Kalongosi, and
Chiputa are both dead.

The Mofwé fills during the greater rains, and spreads over a large
district; elephants then wander in its marshes, and are killed easily
by people in canoes: this happens every year, and Mohamad Bogharib
waits now for this ivory.

_7th to 21st February, 1868._--On inquiring of men who lave seen the
underground houses in Rua, I find that they are very extensive,
ranging along mountain sides for twenty miles, and in one part a
rivulet flows inside. In some cases the doorways are level with the
country adjacent: in others, ladders are used to climb up to them;
inside they are said to be very large, and not the work of men, but of
God. The people have plenty of fowls, and they too obtain shelter in
these Troglodyte habitations.

_23rd February, 1868._--I was visited by an important chief called
Chapé, who said that he wanted to make friends with the English. He,
Chisapi, Sama, Muabo, Karembwé, are of one tribe or family, the Oanza:
he did not beg anything, and promised to send me a goat.

FOOTNOTES:

[59] Kirwa and its various corruptions, such as Shirwa, Chirua, and
Kiroa, perpetually recur in Africa, and would almost seem to stand for
"the island."--ED.




CHAPTER XI.

    Riot in the camp. Mohamad's account of his long imprisonment.
    Superstitions about children's teeth. Concerning dreams. News of
    Lake Chowambé. Life of the Arab slavers. The Katanga gold
    supply. Muabo. Ascent of the Rua Mountains. Syde bin Habib.
    Birthday 19th March, 1868. Hostility of Mpwéto. Contemplates
    visiting Lake Bemba. Nile sources. Men desert. The shores of
    Moero. Visits Fungafunga. Beturn to Casembe's. Obstructiveness
    of "Cropped-ears." Accounts of Pereira and Dr. Lacerda. Major
    Monteiro. The line of Casembe's. Casembe explains the connection
    of the Lakes and the Luapula. Queen Moäri. Arab sacrifice.
    Kapika gets rid of his wife.

_24th February, 1868._--Some slaves who came with Mohamad Bogharib's
agent, abused my men this morning, as bringing unclean meat into the
village to sell, though it had been killed by a man of the Wanyamwesi.
They called out, "Kaffir, Kaffir!" and Susi, roused by this, launched
forth with a stick; the others joined in the row, and the offenders
were beat off, but they went and collected all their number and
renewed the assault. One threw a heavy block of wood and struck Simon
on the head, making him quite insensible and convulsed for some time.
He has three wounds on the head, which may prove serious. This is the
first outburst of Mohamadan bigotry we have met, and by those who know
so little of the creed that it is questionable if one of them can
repeat the formula: "La illaha illa lahu Mohamad Rasulela salla lahu,
a leihi oa Salama." Simon recovered, but Gallahs are in general not
strong.

_25th February, 1868._--Mohamad called on me this morning to apologise
for the outrage of yesterday, but no one was to blame except the
slaves, and I wanted no punishment inflicted if they were cautioned
for the future. It seems, plain that if they do not wish to buy the
unclean meat they can let it alone,--no harm is done. The Wanyamwesi
kill for all, and some Mohamadans say that they won't eat of it, but
their wives and people do eat it privately.

I asked Mohamad to-day if it were true that he was a prisoner at
Casembe's. He replied, "Quite so." Some Garaganza people, now at
Katanga, fought with Casembe, and Mohamad was suspected of being
connected with them. Casembe attacked his people, and during the
turmoil a hundred frasilahs of copper were stolen from him, and many
of his people killed. Casembe kept him a prisoner till sixty of his
people were either killed or died, among these Mohamad's eldest son:
he was thus reduced to poverty. He gave something to Casembe to allow
him to depart, and I suspect that my Sultan's letter had considerable
influence in inducing Casembe to accede to his request, for he
repeated again and again in my hearing that he must pay respect to my
letter, and see me safe at least as far as Ujiji. Mohamad says that he
will not return to Casembe again, but will begin to trade with some
other chief: it is rather hard for a man at his age to begin _de
novo_. He is respected among the Arabs, who pronounce him to be a good
man. He says that he has been twenty-two years in Africa, and never
saw an outburst like that of yesterday among the Wanyamwesi: it is,
however, common for the people at Ujiji to drink palm toddy, and then
have a general row in the bazaar, but no bad feeling exists next day.

If a child cuts the upper front teeth before the lower, it is killed,
as unlucky: this is a widely-spread superstition. When I was amongst
the Makololo in 1859 one of Sekelétu's wives would not allow her
servant's child to be killed for this, but few would have the courage
to act in opposition to public feeling as she did. In Casembe's
country if a child is seen to turn from one side to the other in
sleep it is killed. They say of any child who has what they consider
these defects "he is an Arab child," because the Arabs have none of
this class of superstitions, and should any Arab be near they give the
child to him: it would bring ill-luck, misfortunes, "milando," or
guilt, to the family. These superstitions may account for the
readiness with which one tribe parted with their children to Speke's
followers. Mohamad says that these children must have been taken in
war, as none sell their own offspring.

If Casembe dreams of any man twice or three times he puts the man to
death, as one who is practising secret arts against his life: if any
one is pounding or cooking food for him he must preserve the strictest
silence; these and other things show extreme superstition and
degradation.

During, his enforced detention Mohamad's friends advised him to leave
Casembe by force, offering to aid him with their men, but he always
refused. His father was the first to open this country to trade with
the Arabs, and all his expenses while so doing were borne by himself;
but Mohamad seems to be a man of peace, and unwilling to break the
appearance of friendship with the chiefs. He thinks that this Casembe
poisoned his predecessor: he certainly killed his wife's mother, a
queen, that she might be no obstacle to him in securing her daughter.

We are waiting in company with a number of Wanyamwesi for the
cessation of the rains, which have flooded the country between this
and Tanganyika. If there were much slope this water would flow off:
this makes me suspect that Tanganyika is not so low as Speke's
measurement. The Arabs are positive that water flows from that Lake to
the Victoria Nyanza, and assert that Dagara, the father of Rumanyika,
was anxious to send canoes from his place to Ujiji, or, as some say,
to dig a canal to Ujiji. The Wanyamwesi here support themselves by
shooting buffaloes, at a place two days distant, and selling the meat
for grain and cassava: no sooner is it known that an animal is killed,
than the village women crowd in here, carrying their produce to
exchange it for meat, which they prefer to beads or anything else.
Their farinaceous food creates a great craving for flesh: were my
shoes not done I would go in for buffaloes too.

A man from the upper part of Tanganyika gives the same account of the
river from Rusisi that Burton and Speke received when they went to its
mouth. He says that the water of the Lake goes up some distance, but
is met by Rusisi water, and driven back thereby. The Lake water, he
adds, finds an exit northwards and eastwards by several small rivers
which would admit small canoes only. They pour into Lake
Chowambé--probably that discovered by Mr. Baker. This Chowambé is in
Hundi, the country of cannibals, but the most enlightened informants
leave the impression on the mind of groping in the dark: it may be all
different when we come to see it.

The fruit of the palm, which yields palm-oil, is first of all boiled,
then pounded in a mortar, then put into hot or boiling water, and the
oil skimmed off. The palm-oil is said to be very abundant at Ujiji, as
much as 300 gallons being often brought into the bazaar for sale in
one morning; the people buy it eagerly for cooking purposes. Mohamad
says that the Island of Pemba, near Zanzibar, contains many of these
palms, but the people are ignorant of the mode of separating the oil
from the nut: they call the palm Nkoma at Casembe's, and Chikichi at
Zanzibar.[60]

No better authority for what has been done or left undone by
Mohamadans in this country can be found than Mohamad bin Saleh, for he
is very intelligent, and takes an interest in all that happens, and
his father was equally interested in this country's affairs. He
declares that no attempt was ever made by Mohamadans to proselytize
the Africans: they teach their own children to read the Koran, but
them only; it is never translated, and to servants who go to the
Mosque it is all dumb show. Some servants imbibe Mohamadan bigotry
about eating, but they offer no prayers. Circumcision, to make
_halel_, or fit to slaughter the animals for their master, is the
utmost advance any have made. As the Arabs in East Africa never feel
themselves called on to propagate the doctrines of Islam, among the
heathen Africans, the statement of Captain Burton that they would make
better missionaries to the Africans than Christians, because they
would not insist on the abandonment of polygamy, possesses the same
force as if he had said Mohamadans would catch more birds than
Christians, because they would put salt on their tails. The
indispensable requisite or qualification for any kind of missionary is
that he have some wish to proselytize: this the Arabs do not possess
in the slightest degree.

As they never translate the Koran, they neglect the best means of
influencing the Africans, who invariably wish to understand what they
are about. When we were teaching adults the alphabet, they felt it a
hard task. "Give me medicine, I shall drink it to make me understand
it," was their earnest entreaty. When they have advanced so far as to
form clear conceptions of Old Testament and Gospel histories, they
tell them to their neighbours; and, on visiting distant tribes, feel
proud to show how much they know: in this way the knowledge of
Christianity becomes widely diffused. Those whose hatred to its
self-denying doctrines has become developed by knowledge, propagate
slanders; but still they speak of Christianity, and awaken attention.
The plan, therefore, of the Christian missionary in imparting
knowledge is immeasurably superior to that of the Moslem in dealing
with dumb show. I have, however, been astonished to see that none of
the Africans imitate the Arab prayers: considering their great
reverence of the Deity, it is a wonder that they do not learn to
address prayers to Him except on very extraordinary occasions.

My remarks referring to the education by Mohamadans do not refer to
the Suahelis, for they teach their children to read, and even send
them to school. They are the descendants of Arab and African women and
inhabit the coast line. Although they read, they understand very
little Arabic beyond the few words which have been incorporated into
Suaheli. The establishment of Moslem missions among the heathen is
utterly unknown, and this is remarkable, because the Wanyamwesi, for
instance, are very friendly with the Arabs--are great traders, too,
like them, and are constantly employed as porters and native traders,
being considered very trustworthy. They even acknowledge Seyed Majid's
authority. The Arabs speak of all the Africans as _"Gumu_" that is
hard or callous to the Mohamadan religion.

Some believe that Kilimanjaro Mountain has mummies, as in Egypt, and
that Moses visited it of old.

Mungo Park mentions that he found the Africans in the far interior of
the west in possession of the stories of Joseph and his brethren, and
others. They probably got them from the Koran, as verbally explained
by some liberal Mullah, and showed how naturally they spread any new
ideas they obtained: they were astonished to find that Park knew the
stories.

The people at Katanga are afraid to dig for the gold in their country
because they believe that it has been hidden where it is by "Ngolu,"
who is the owner of it. The Arabs translate Ngolu by Satan: it means
Mézimo, or departed spirits, too. The people are all oppressed by
their superstitions; the fear of death is remarkably strong. The
Wagtails are never molested, because, if they were killed, death
would visit the village; this too is the case with the small Whydah
birds, the fear of death in the minds of the people saves them from
molestation. But why should we be so prone to criticise? A remnant of
our own superstitions is seen in the prejudice against sitting down
thirteen to dinner, spilling the salt, and not throwing a little of it
over the left shoulder. Ferdinand I., the King of Naples, in passing
through the streets, perpetually put one hand into his pockets to
cross the thumb over the finger in order to avert the influence of the
evil eye!

On the 6th, Muabo, the great chief of these parts, came to call on
Mohamad: several men got up and made some antics before him, then
knelt down and did obeisance, then Muabo himself jumped about a
little, and all applauded. He is a good-natured-looking man, fond of a
joke, and always ready with a good-humoured smile: he was praised very
highly, Mpwéto was nothing to Muabo mokolu, the great Muabo; and he
returned the praise by lauding Tipo Tipo and Mpamari, Mohamad's native
name, which means, "Give me wealth, or goods." Mohamad made a few of
the ungainly antics like the natives, and all were highly pleased, and
went off rejoicing.

Some Arabs believe that a serpent on one of the islands in the Nyanza
Lake has the power of speaking, and is the same that beguiled Eve. It
is a crime at Ujiji to kill a serpent, even though it enters a house
and kills a kid! The native name, for the people of Ujiji is Wayeiyé,
the very same as the people on the Zouga, near Lake Ngami. They are
probably an offshoot from Ujiji.[61]

There are underground stone houses in Kabiuré, in the range called
Kakoma, which is near to our place of detention. _15th March,
1868._--The roots of the Nyumbo or Noombo open in four or five months
from the time of planting, those planted by me on the 6th February
have now stalks fifteen inches long. The root is reported to be a very
wholesome food, never disagreeing with the stomach; and the raw root
is an excellent remedy in obstinate vomiting and nausea; four or five
tubers are often given by one root, in Marungu they attain a size of
six inches in length by two in diameter.

_16th March, 1868._--We started for Mpwéto's village, which is
situated on the Lualaba, and in our course crossed the Lokinda, which
had a hundred yards of flood water on each side of it. The river
itself is forty yards wide, with a rude bridge over it, as it flows
fast away into Moero.

Next day we ascended the Rua Mountains, and reached the village of
Mpwéto, situated in a valley between two ridges, about one mile from
the right bank of the Lualaba, where it comes through the mountains.
It then flows about two miles along the base of a mountain lying east
and west before it begins to make northing: its course is reported to
be very winding, this seems additional evidence that Tanganyika is not
in a depression of only 1844 feet above the sea, otherwise the water
of Lualaba would flow faster and make a straighter channel. It is said
to flow into the Lufira, and that into Tanganyika.

_18th March, 1868._--On reaching Mpwéto's yesterday we were taken up
to the house of Syde bin Habib, which is built on a ridge overhanging
the chiefs village, a square building of wattle and plaster, and a mud
roof to prevent it being fired by an enemy. It is a very pretty spot
among the mountains. Sariama is Bin Habib's agent, and he gave us a
basket of flour and leg of kid. I sent a message to Mpwéto, which he
politely answered by saying that he had no food ready in his village,
but if we waited two days he would have some prepared, and would then
see us. He knew what we should give him, and he need not tell us I
met a man from Seskéké, left sick at Kirwa by Bin Habib and now with
him here.

A very beautiful young woman came to look at us, perfect in every way,
and nearly naked, but unconscious of indecency; a very Venus in black.
The light-grey, red-tailed parrot seen on the West Coast is common in
Rua, and tamed by the natives.[62]

_19th March, 1868._[63]--(Grant, Lord, grace to love Thee more and
serve Thee better.)

The favourite son of Mpwéto called on us; his father is said to do
nothing without consulting him; but he did not seem to be endowed with
much wisdom.

_20th and 21st March, 1868._--Our interview was put off; and then a
sight of the cloth we were to give was required. I sent a good large
cloth, and explained that we were nearly out of goods now, having been
travelling two years, and were going to Ujiji to get more. Mpwéto had
prepared a quantity of pombe, a basket of meal, and a goat; and when
he looked at them and the cloth, he seemed to feel that it would be a
poor bargain, so he sent to say that we had gone to Casembe and given
him many cloths, and then to Muabo, and if I did not give another
cloth he would not see me. "He had never slept with only one cloth."
"I had put medicine on this one to kill him, and must go away."

It seems he was offended because we went to his great rival, Muabo,
before visiting him. He would not see Syde bin Habib for eight days;
and during that time was using charms to try if it would be safe to
see him at all: on the ninth day he peeped past a door for some time
to see if Bin Habib were a proper person, and then came out: he is
always very suspicious.

At last he sent an order to us to go away, and if we did not move, he
would come with all his people and drive us off. Sariamo said if he
were not afraid for Syde bin Habib's goods, he would make a stand
against Mpwéto; but I had no wish to stay or to quarrel with a
worthless chief, and resolved to go next day. (_24th March._) He
abused a native trader with his tongue for coming to trade, and sent
him away too. We slept again at our half-way village, Kapemba, just as
a party of salt-traders from Rua came into it: they were tall,
well-made men, and rather dark.

_25th March, 1868._--Reached Kabwabwata at noon, and were welcomed by
Mohamad and all the people. His son, Sheikh But, accompanied us; but
Mohamad told us previously that it was likely Mpwéto would refuse to
see us.

The water is reported to be so deep in front that it is impossible to
go north: the Wanyamwesi, who are detained here as well as we, say it
is often more than a man's depth, and there are no canoes. They would
not stop here if a passage home could be made. I am thinking of going
to Lake Bemba, because at least two months must be passed here still
before a passage can be made; but my goods are getting done, and I
cannot give presents to the chiefs on our way.

This Lake has a sandy, not muddy bottom, as we were at first informed,
and there are four islands in it, one, the Bangweolo, is very large,
and many people live on it; they have goats and sheep in abundance:
the owners of canoes demand three hoes for the hire of one capable of
carrying eight or ten persons; beyond this island it is sea horizon
only. The tsébula and nzoé antelopes abound. The people desire salt
and not beads for sale.

_2nd April, 1868._--If I am not deceived by the information I have
received from various reliable sources, the springs of the Nile rise
between 9° and 10° south latitude, or at least 400 or 500 miles south
of the south end of Speke's Lake, which he considered to be the
sources of the Nile. Tanganyika is declared to send its water through
north into Lake Chowambé or Baker's Lake; if this does not prove
false, then Tanganyika is an expansion of the Nile, and so is Lake
Chowambé; the two Lakes being connected by the River Loanda.
Unfortunately the people on the east side of the Loanda are constantly
at war with the people on the west of it, or those of Rusisi. The
Arabs have been talking of opening up a path through to Chowambé,
where much ivory is reported; I hope that the Most High may give me a
way there.

_11th April, 1868._--I had a long oration from Mohamad yesterday
against going off for Bemba to-morrow. His great argument is the
extortionate way of Casembe, who would demand cloth, and say that in
pretending to go to Ujiji I had told him lies: he adds to this
argument that this is the last month of the rains; the Masika has
begun, and our way north will soon be open. The fact of the matter is
that Mohamad, by not telling me of the superabundance of water in the
country of the Marungu, which occurs every year, caused me to lose
five months. He knew that we should be detained here, but he was so
eager to get out of his state of durance with Casembe that he hastened
my departure by asserting that we should be at Ujiji in one month. I
regret this deception, but it is not to be wondered at, and in a
Mohamadan and in a Christian too it is thought clever. Were my goods
not nearly done I would go, and risk the displeasure of Casembe for
the chance of discovering the Lake Bemba. I thought once of buying
from Mohamad Bogharib, but am afraid that his stock may be getting low
too: I fear that I must give up this Lake for the present.

_12th April, 1868._--I think of starting to-morrow for Bangweolo, even
if Casembe refuses a passage beyond him: we shall be better there than
we are here, for everything at Kabwabwata is scarce and dear. There we
can get a fowl for one string of beads, here it costs six: there fish
may be bought, here none. Three of Casembe's principal men are here,
Kakwata, Charley, and Kapitenga; they are anxious to go home, and
would be a gain to me, but Mohamad detains them, and when I ask his
reason he says "Muabo refuses," but they point to Mohamad's house and
say, "It is he who refuses."

[A very serious desertion took place at this time amongst Dr.
Livingstone's followers. Not to judge them too harshly they had become
to a great extent demoralised by camp life with Mohamad and his horde
of slaves and slavers. The Arab tried all he could to dissuade the
traveller from proceeding south instead of homewards through Ujiji,
and the men seem to have found their own breaking-point where this
disappointment occurred.]

_13th April, 1868._--On preparing to start this morning my people
refused to go: the fact is, they are all tired, and Mohamad's
opposition encourages them. Mohamad, who was evidently eager to make
capital out of their refusal, asked me to remain over to-day, and then
demanded what I was going to do with those who had absconded. I said,
"Nothing: if a magistrate were on the spot, I would give them over to
him." "Oh," said he, "I am magistrate, shall I apprehend them?" To
this I assented. He repeated this question till it was tiresome: I saw
his reason long afterwards, when he asserted that I "came to him and
asked him to bind them, but he had refused:" he wanted to appear to
the people as much better than I am.

_14th April, 1868._--I start off with five attendants, leaving most of
the luggage with Mohamad, and reach the Luao to spend the night.
Headman Ndowa.

_15th April, 1868._--Amoda ran away early this morning. "Wishes to
stop with his brothers." They think that, by refusing to go to Bemba,
they will force me to remain with them, and then go to Ujiji: one of
them has infused the idea into their minds that I will not pay them,
and exclaims "Look at the sepoys!"--not knowing that they are paid by
the Indian Government; and as for the Johanna men, they were prepaid
_29l. 4s._ in cash, besides clothing. I sent Amoda's bundle back to
Mohamad: my messenger got to Kabwabwata before Amoda did, and he
presented himself to my Arab friend, who, of course, scolded him: he
replied that he was tired of carrying, and no other fault had he; I
may add that I found out that Amoda wished to come south to me with
one of Mohamad Bogharib's men, but "Mpamari" told him not to return.
Now that I was fairly started, I told my messenger to say to Mohamad
that I would on no account go to Ujiji, till I had done all in my
power to reach the Lake I sought: I would even prefer waiting at Luao
or Moero, till people came to me from Ujiji to supplant the runaways.
I did not blame them very severely in my own mind for absconding: they
were tired of tramping, and so verily am I, but Mohamad, in
encouraging them to escape to him, and talking with a double tongue,
cannot be exonerated from blame. Little else can be expected from him,
he has lived some thirty-five years in the country, twenty-five being
at Casembe's, and there he had often to live by his wits.
Consciousness of my own defects makes me lenient.

_16th April, 1868._--Ndowa gives Mita or Mpamañkanana as the names of
the excavations in Muabo's hills, he says that they are sufficient to
conceal all the people of this district in case of war: I conjecture
that this implies room for ten thousand people: provisions are stored
in them, and a perennial rivulet runs along a whole street of them. On
one occasion, when the main entrance was besieged by an enemy, someone
who knew all the intricacies of the excavations led a party out by a
secret passage, and they, coming over the invaders, drove them off
with heavy loss. Their formation is universally ascribed to the Deity.
This may mean that the present inhabitants have succeeded the original
burrowing race, which dug out many caves adjacent to Mount Hor--the
_Jebel Nébi Harin_, Mount of the Prophet Aaron, of the Arabs--and many
others; and even the Bushman caves, a thousand miles south of this
region.

A very minute, sharp-biting mosquito is found here: the women try to
drive them out of their huts by whisking bundles of green leaves all
round the walls before turning into them.

_17th August, 1868._--Crossed the Luao by a bridge, thirty yards long,
and more than half a mile of flood on each side; passed many villages,
standing on little heights, which overlook plains filled with water.
Some three miles of grassy plains abreast of Moero were the deepest
parts, except the banks of Luao. We had four hours of wading, the
bottom being generally black tenacious mud. Ruts had been formed in
the paths by the feet of passengers: these were filled with soft mud,
and, as they could not be seen, the foot was often placed on the edge,
and when the weight came on it, down it slumped into the mud, half-way
up the calves; it was difficult to draw it out, and very fatiguing. To
avoid these ruts we encroached on the grass at the sides of the paths,
but often stepping on the unseen edge of a rut, we floundered in with
both feet to keep the balance, and this was usually followed by a rush
of bubbles to the surface, which, bursting, discharged foul air of
frightful faecal odour. In parts, the black mud and foul water were
cold, in others hot, according as circulation went on or not. When we
came near Moero, the water became half-chest and whole-chest deep; all
perishable articles had to be put on the head. We found a party of
fishermen on the sands, and I got a hut, a bath in the clear but tepid
waters, and a delicious change of dress. Water of Lake, 83° at 3 P.M.

_18th April, 1868._--We marched along the north end of Moero, which
has a south-east direction. The soft yielding sand which is flanked by
a broad belt of tangled tropical vegetation and trees, added to the
fatigues of yesterday, so finding a deserted fisherman's village near
the eastern hills, we gladly made it our quarters for Sunday (19th). I
made no mark, but the Lake is at least twenty feet higher now than it
was on our first visits, and there are banks showing higher rises even
than this.

Large fish-baskets made of split reeds are used in trios for catching
small fish; one man at each basket drives fish ashore.

_20th April, 1868._--Went on to Katétté River, and then to a strong
torrent; slept at a village on the north bank of the River Vuna,
where, near the hills, is a hot fountain, sometimes used to cook
cassava and maize.

_21st April, 1868._--Crossed the Vuna and went on to Kalembwé's
village, meeting the chief at the gate, who guided us to a hut, and
manifested great curiosity to see all our things; he asked if we could
not stop next day and drink beer, which would then be ready. Leopards
abound here. The Lake now seems broader than ever.

I could not conceive that a hole in the cartilage of the nose could be
turned to any account except to hold an ornament, though that is
usually only a bit of grass, but a man sewing the feathers on his
arrows used his nose-hole for holding a needle! In coming on to
Kangalola we found the country swimming: I got separated from the
company, though I saw them disappear in the long grass not a hundred
yards off and shouted, but the splashing of their feet prevented any
one hearing. I could not find a path going south, so I took one to the
east to a village; the grass was so long and tangled, I could scarcely
get along, at last I engaged a man to show me the main path south, and
he took me to a neat village of a woman--Nyinakasangaand would go no
further, "Mother Kasanga," as the name means, had been very handsome,
and had a beautiful daughter, probably another edition of herself, she
advised my waiting in the deep shade of the Ficus indica, in which her
houses were placed. I fired a gun, and when my attendants came gave
her a string of beads, which made her express distress at my "leaving
without drinking anything of hers." People have abandoned several
villages on account of the abundance of ferocious wild beasts.

_23rd April, 1868._--Through very thick tangled Nyassi grass to
Chikosi's burned village; Nsama had killed him. We spent the night in
a garden hut, which the fire of the village had spared. Turnips were
growing in the ruins. The Nyassi, or long coarse grass, hangs over the
paths, and in pushing it aside the sharp seeds penetrate the clothes
and are very annoying. The grass itself rubs on the face and eyes
disagreeably: when it is burned off and greensward covers the soil it
is much more pleasant walking.

24th _April, 1868._--We leave Chikosi's ruins and make for the ford of
the Kalungosi. Marigolds are in full bloom all over the forest, and so
are foxgloves. The river is here fully 100 yards broad with 300 yards
of flood on its western bank; so deep we had to remain in the canoes
till within 50 yards of the higher ground. The people here chew the
pith of the papyrus, which is three inches in diameter and as white as
snow: it has very little sweetness or anything else in it. The headman
of the village to which we went was out cutting wood for a garden, and
his wife refused us a hut, but when Kansabala came in the evening he
scolded his own spouse roundly and all the wives of the village, and
then pressed me to come indoors, but I was well enough in my mosquito
curtain without, and declined: I was free from insects and vermin, and
few huts are so.

_25th April, 1868._--Off early west, and then on to an elevated forest
land, in which our course was S.S.W. to the great bend of the rivulet
Kifurwa, which enters Moero near to the mouth of the Kalungosi.

_26th April, 1868._--Here we spent Sunday in our former woodcutters'
huts. Yesterday we were met by a party of the same occupation, laden
with bark-cloth, which they had just been stripping off the trees.
Their leader would not come along the path because I was sitting near
it: I invited him to do so, but it would have been disrespectful to
let his shadow fall on any part of my person, so he went a little out
of the way: this politeness is common.

_27th April, 1868._--But a short march to Fungafunga's village: we
could have gone on to the Muatizé, but no village exists there, and
here we could buy food. Fungafunga's wife gave a handsome supper to
the stranger: on afterwards acknowledging it to her husband he said,
"That is your village; always go that way and eat my provisions." He
is a Monyamwezi trading in the country for copper, hoes, and slaves.
Parrots are here in numbers stealing Holcus sorghum in spite of the
shouts of the women.

We cross Muatizé by a bridge of one large tree, getting a good view of
Moero from a hill near Kabukwa, and sleep at Chirongo River.

_29th April, 1868._--At the Mandapala River. Some men here from the
Chungu, one of whom claimed to be a relative of Casembe, made a great
outcry against our coming a second time to Casembe without waiting at
the Kalungosi for permission. One of them, with his ears cropped short
off, asked me when I was departing north if I should come again. I
replied, "Yes, I think I shall." They excited themselves by calling
over the same thing again and again. "The English come the second
time!" "The second time--the second time--the country spoiled! Why not
wait at the Kalungosi? Let him return thither." "Come from Mpamari
too, and from the Bagaraganza or Banyamwezi!!" "The second time--the
second time!" Then all the adjacent villagers were called in to
settle this serious affair. I look up to that higher Power to
influence their minds as He has often done before. I persuaded them to
refer the matter to Casembe himself by sending a man with one of mine
up to the town. They would not consent to go on to the Chungu, as the
old cropped-eared man would have been obliged to come back the
distance again, he having been on the way to the Kalungosi as a
sentinel of the ford. Casembe is reasonable and fair, but his people
are neither, and will do anything to mulct either strangers or their
own countrymen.

_30th April, 1868._--The cold of winter has begun, and dew is
deposited in great quantities, but all the streams are very high in
flood, though the rains have ceased here some time.

_1st May, 1868._--At the Mandapala River. I sent a request to Mohamad
Bogharib to intercede with Casembe for me for a man to show the way to
Chikumbi, who is near to Bangweolo. I fear that I have become mixed up
in the Lunda mind with Mpamari (Mohamad bin Saleh), from having gone
off with him and returning ere we reached Ujiji, whither ostensibly we
were bound. I may be suspected of being in his confidence, and of
forwarding his plans by coming back. A deaf and dumb man appears among
the people here, making signs exactly as I have seen such do in
England, and occasionally emitting a low unmodulated guttural drawl
like them.

_3rd May, 1868._--Abraham, my messenger, came back, while we were at
afternoon prayers, with good news for us, but what made Cropped-ears
quite chopfallen was that Casembe was quite gracious! He did not wish
me to go away, and now I am welcome back; and as soon as we hear of
peace at Chikumbi's we shall have a man to conduct us thither. The
Mazitu were reported to have made an inroad into Chikumbi's country;
and it was said that chief had fled, and Casembe had sent messengers
to hear the truth. Thanks to the Most High for His kindness and
influence.

_4th May, 1868._--We leave the Mandapala. Cropped-ears, whose name I
never heard, collapsed at once on hearing the message of Casembe:
before that I never heard such a babbler, to every one passing, man or
woman, he repeated the same insinuations about the English, and
"Mpamari," and the Banyamwezi,--conspiracy--guilt--return a second
time,--till, like a meddling lawyer, he thought that he had really got
an important case in hand!

The River Chungu we found to be from fifteen to eighteen yards broad
and breast deep, with at least one hundred yards of flood, before we
reached the main stream, the Mandapala. The Chungu and the Lundi join
in the country called Kimbafuma, about twelve miles from our
crossing-place of Mandapala, and about west of it. The Lundi was now
breast deep too, and twelve yards broad.

On reaching Casembe's, on the Mofwé, we found Mohamad Bogharib digging
and fencing up a well to prevent his slaves being taken away by the
crocodiles, as three had been eaten already. A dog bit the leg of one
of my goats so badly that I was obliged to kill it: they are nasty
curs here, without courage, and yet they sometimes bite people badly.
I met some old friends, and Mohamad Bogharib cooked a supper, and from
this time forward never omitted sharing his victuals with me.

_6th May, 1868._--Manoel Caetano Pereira visited Casembe in 1796, or
seventy-two years ago: his native name was Moendo-mondo, or the
world's leg--"world-wide traveller!" He came to Mandapala, for there
the Casembe of the time resided, and he had a priest or "Kasisé" with
him, and many people with guns. Pérémbé, the oldest man now in Lunda,
had children even then: if Pérémbé were thirty years of age at that
period he would now be 102 years old, and he seems quite that, for
when Dr. Lacerda came he had forty children. He says that Pereira
fired off all his guns on his arrival, and Casembe asking him what he
meant by that, he replied, "These guns ask for slaves and ivory," both
of which were liberally given.

I could not induce Pérémbé to tell anything of times previous to his
own. Moendo-mondo, the world's leg (Pereira), told Dr. Lacerda that
the natives called him "The Terror!"--a bit of vanity, for they have
no such word or abstract term in their language.

When Major Monteiro was here the town of Casembe was on the same spot
as now, but the Mosumba, or enclosure of the chief, was about 500
yards S.E. of the present one. Monteiro went nowhere and did nothing,
but some of his attendants went over to the Luapula, some six miles
distant. He complains in his book of having been robbed by the Casembe
of the time. On asking the present occupant of the office why
Monteiro's goods were taken from him, he replied, that he was then
living at another village and did not know of the affair. Mohamad bin
Saleh was present, and he says that Monteiro's statement is false: no
goods were forced from him; but it was a year of scarcity, and
Monteiro had to spend his goods in buying food instead of slaves and
ivory, and made up the tale of Casembe plundering him to appease his
creditors.

A number of men were sent with Monteiro as an honorary escort. Kapika,
an old man now living, was the chief or one of the chiefs of this
party, and he says that he went to Tette, Senna, and Quillimane with
Monteiro: this honorary escort seems confirmatory of Mohamad's
explanation, for had Casembe robbed the Major none would have been
granted or received.

It is warmer here than we found it in the way; clouds cover the sky
and prevent radiation. The sorghum is now in full ear. People make
very neat mats of the leaves of the Shuaré palm. I got lunars this
time.

_9th May, 1868._--Eight or ten men went past us this morning, sent by
the chief to catch people whom he intends to send to his paramount
chief, Matiamvo, as a tribute of slaves. Pérémbé gives the following
list of the Casembes:--

    I. KANYIMBE, came from Lunda, attracted by the
        fish of Mofwé and Moero, and conquered
        Pérémbé's forefather, Katéré, who planted the
        first palm-oil palms here from seeds got in
        Lunda. It is probable that the intercourse
        then set afoot led to Kanyimbé's coming and
        conquest.
    II. KINYANTA.
    III. NGUANDA MILONDA.
    IV. KANYEMBO.
    V. LEKWISA.
    VI. KIRÉKA.
    VII. KAPUMBA.
    VIII. KINYANTA.
    IX. LEKWISA, still alive, but a fugitive at Nsama's.
    X. MUONGA, the present ruler, who drove Lékwisa
       away.

The Portuguese came to Kiréka, who is said to have been very liberal
with presents of ivory, slaves, and cattle. The present man has good
sense, and is very fair in his judgments, but stingy towards his own
people as well as strangers: nevertheless I have had good reason to be
satisfied with his conduct to me. Maiyé, not in the list, and 7, 8, 9,
10 are the children of Kiréka. Muonga is said by the others to be a
slave "born out of the house," that is, his mother was not of the
royal line; she is an ugly old woman, and greedy. I got rid of her
begging by giving her the beads she sought, and requesting her to cook
some food for me; she begged no more, afraid that I would press my
claim for provisions!

_10th May, 1868._--I sent to Casembe for a guide to Luapula, he
replied that he had not seen me nor given me any food; I must come
to-morrow: but next day he was occupied in killing a man for
witchcraft and could not receive us, but said that he would on the
12th. He sent 15 fish (perch) from Mofwé, and a large basket of dried
cassava. I have taken lunars several times, measuring both sides of
the moon about 190 times, but a silly map-maker may alter the whole
for the most idiotic of reasons.

_13th May, 1868._--Mohamad Bogharib has been here some seven months,
and bought three tusks only; the hunting, by Casembe's people, of
elephants in the Mofwé has been unsuccessful.

We did not get an audience from Casembe; the fault lay with
Kapika--Monteiro's escort--being afraid to annoy Casembe by putting
him in mind of it, but on the 15th Casembe sent for me, and told me
that as the people had all fled from Chikumbi's, he would therefore
send guides to take us to Kabaia, where there was still a population;
he wished me to wait a few days till he had looked out good men as
guides, and ground some flour for us to use in the journey. He
understood that I wished to go to Bangweolo; and it was all right to
do what my own chief had sent me for, and then come back to him. It
was only water--the same as Luapula, Mofwé, and Moero; nothing to be
seen. His people must not molest me again, but let me go where I
liked. This made me thank Him who has the hearts of all in His hand.

Casembe also admitted that he had injured "Mpamari," but he would send
him some slaves and ivory in reparation: he is better than his people,
who are excessively litigious, and fond of milandos or causes--suits.
He asked if I had not the leopard's skin he gave me to sit on, as it
was bad to sit on the ground; I told him it had so many holes in it
people laughed at it and made me ashamed, but he did not take the
hint to give me another. He always talks good sense when he has not
swilled beer or pombe: all the Arabs are loud in his praises, but they
have a bad opinion of the Queen Moäri or Ngombé or Kifuta. The
Garaganza people at Katanga killed a near relative of Casembe and
herself, and when the event happened, Fungafunga, one of the Garaganza
or Banyamwezi being near the spot, fled and came to the Mofwé: he
continued his flight as soon as it was dark without saying anything to
anyone, until he got north to Kabiuré. The Queen and Casembe suspected
Mpamari of complicity with the Banyamwezi, and believed that
Fungafunga had communicated the news to him before fleeing further. A
tumult was made; Mpamari's eldest son was killed; and he was plundered
of all his copper, ivory, and slaves: the Queen loudly demanded his
execution, but Casembe restrained his people as well as he was able
and it is for this injury that he now professes to be sorry.

The Queen only acted according to the principles of her people.
"Mpamari killed my son, kill his son--himself." It is difficult to get
at the truth, for Mohamad or Mpamari never tells the whole truth. He
went to fight Nsama with Muonga, and was wounded in the foot and
routed, and is now glad to get out of Lunda back to Ujiji. _(16th
May.)_ Complete twenty sets of lunars.

_11th May, 1868._--Mohamad Bogharib told Casembe that he could buy
nothing, and therefore was going away, Casembe replied that he had no
ivory and he might go: this was sensible; he sent far and near to find
some, but failed, and now confesses a truth which most chiefs hide
from unwillingness to appear poor before foreigners.

_18th and 19th May, 1868._--It is hot here though winter; but cold by
night. Casembe has sent for fish for us. News came that one of Syde
bin Habib's men had come to Chikumbi on his way to Zanzibar.

_20th May, 1868._--A thunder-shower from the east laid the dust and
cooled the ground: the last shower of this season, as a similar slight
shower was the finish up of the last on the 12th of May. _(21st May._)
This cannot be called a rainy month: April is the last month of the
wet season, and November the first.

_22nd May, 1868._--Casembe is so slow with his fish, meal, and guides,
and his people so afraid to hurry him, that I think of going off as
soon as Mohamad Bogharib moves; he is going to Chikumbi's to buy
copper, and thence he will proceed to Uvira to exchange that for
ivory; but this is at present kept as a secret from his slaves. The
way seems thus to be opening for me to go to the large Lake west of
Uvira.

I told Casembe that we were going; he said to me that if in coming
back I had found no travelling party, I must not risk going by Nsama's
road with so few people, but must go to his brother Moenempanda, and
he would send men to guide me to him, and thence he would send me
safely by his path along Lake Moero: this was all very good.

_23rd May, 1868._--The Arabs made a sort of sacrifice of a goat which
was cooked all at once; they sent a good dish of it to me. They read
the Koran very industriously, and prayed for success or luck in
leaving, and seem sincerely religious, according to the light that is
in them. The use of incense and sacrifices brings back the old Jewish
times to mind.

A number of people went off to the Kanengwa, a rivulet an hour south
of this, to build huts; there they are to take leave of Casembe, for
the main body goes off to-morrow, after we have seen the new moon.
They are very particular in selecting lucky days, and anything
unpleasant that may have happened in one month is supposed to be
avoided by choosing a different day for beginning an enterprise in the
next. Mohamad left Uvira on the third day of a new moon, and several
fires happened in his camp; he now considers a third day inauspicious.

Casembe's dura or sorghum is ripe to-day: he has eaten mapemba or
dura, and all may thereafter do the same: this is just about the time
when it ripens and is reaped at Kolobeng, thus the difference in the
seasons is not great.

_24th May, 1868._--Detained four days yet. Casembe's chief men refuse
to escort Mohamad Bogharib; they know him to be in debt, and fear that
he may be angry, but no dunning was intended. Casembe was making every
effort to get ivory to liquidate it, and at last got a couple of
tusks, which he joyfully gave to Mohamad: he has risen much in the
estimation of us all.

_26th May, 1868._--Casembe's people killed five buffaloes by chasing
them into the mud and water of Mofwé, so he is seeing to the division
of the meat, and will take leave to-morrow.

_28th May, 1868._--We went to Casembe; he was as gracious as usual. A
case of crim. con. was brought forward against an Arab's slave, and an
attempt was made to arrange the matter privately by offering three
cloths, beads, and another slave, but the complainant refused
everything. Casembe dismissed the case by saying to the complainant,
"You send your women to entrap the strangers in order to get a fine,
but you will get nothing:" this was highly applauded by the Arabs, and
the owner of the slave heaped dust on his head, as many had done
before for favours received. Casembe, still anxious to get ivory for
Mohamad, proposed another delay of four days to send for it; but all
are tired, and it is evident that it is not want of will that prevents
ivory being produced.

His men returned without any, and he frankly confessed inability: he
is evidently very poor.

_30th May, 1868._--We went to the Kanengwa rivulet at the south end
of Mofwé, which forms a little lagoon there fifty yards broad and
thigh deep; but this is not the important feeder of the Lagoon, which
is from two to three miles broad, and nearly four long: that has many
large flat sedgy islands in it, and its water is supplied by the
Mbérézé from south-east.

_31st May, 1868._--Old Kapika sold his young and good-looking wife for
unfaithfulness, as he alleged. The sight of a lady in the chain-gang
shocked the ladies of Lunda, who ran to her, and having ascertained
from her own mouth what was sufficiently apparent, that she was a
slave now, clapped their hands on their mouths in the way that they
express wonder, surprise, and horror: the hand is placed so that the
fingers are on one cheek and the thumb on the other.

The case of the chieftainess excited great sympathy among the people;
some brought her food, Kapika's daughters brought her pombe and
bananas; one man offered to redeem her with two, another with three
slaves, but Casembe, who is very strict in punishing infidelity, said,
"No, though ten slaves be offered she must go." He is probably afraid
of his own beautiful queen should the law be relaxed. Old Kapika came
and said to her, "You refused me, and I now refuse you." A young wife
of old Pérémbé was also sold as a punishment, but redeemed.

There is a very large proportion of very old and very tall men in this
district. The slave-trader is a means of punishing the wives which
these old fogies ought never to have had.

Casembe sent me about a hundredweight of the small fish Nsipo, which
seems to be the whitebait of our country; it is a little bitter when
cooked alone, but with ground-nuts is a tolerable relish: we can buy
flour with these at Chikumbi's.

FOOTNOTES:

[60] Chikichi nuts have been an article of trade and export for some
time from Zanzibar. The oil-palm grows wild in Pemba.

[61] A chief named Moené Ungu, who admires the Arabs, sent his
children to Zanzibar to be instructed to read and write.

[62] This bird is often brought to Zanzibar by the Ivory Caravans.

[63] The Doctor's birthday.




CHAPTER XII.

    Prepares to examine Lake Bemba. Starts from Casembe's 11th June,
    1868. Dead leopard. Moenampanda's reception. The River Luongo.
    Weird death-song of slaves. The forest grave. Lake Bembo changed
    to Lake Bangweolo. Chikumbi's. The Imbozhwa people. Kombokombo's
    stockade. Mazitu difficulties. Discovers Lake Bangweolo on 18th
    July, 1868. The Lake Chief Mapuni. Description of the Lake.
    Prepares to navigate it. Embarks for Lifungé Island. Immense
    size of Lake. Reaches Mpabala Island. Strange dream. Fears of
    canoe men. Return to shore. March back. Sends letters. Meets
    Banyamweze. Reviews recent explorations at length. Disturbed
    state of country.


_1st June, 1868._--Mohamad proposes to go to Katanga to buy copper,
and invites me to go too. I wish to see the Lufra Kiver, but I must
see Bemba or Bangweolo. Grant guidance from above!

_2nd June, 1868._--In passing a field of cassava I picked the pods of
a plant called Malumbi, which climbs up the cassava bushes; at the
root it has a number of tubers with eyes, exactly like the potato. One
plant had sixteen of these tubers, each about 2 inches long and 1-1/2
inch in diameter: another tuber was 5 inches long and 2 in diameter,
it would be difficult for anyone to distinguish them from English
potatoes. When boiled they are a little waxy, and, compared with our
potato, hard. There are colours inside, the outer part reddish, the
inner whiter. At first none of the party knew them, but afterwards
they were recognised as cultivated at Zanzibar by the name "Men," and
very good when mashed with fish: if in Zanzibar, they are probably
known in other tropical islands,

_4th June, 1868._--From what I see of slaving, even in its best
phases, I would not be a slave-dealer for the world.

_5th June, 1868._--The Queen Moäri passed us this morning, going to
build a hut at her plantation; she has a pleasant European
countenance, clean light-brown skin, and a merry laugh, and would be
admired anywhere. I stood among the cassava to see her pass; she
twirled her umbrella as she came near, borne by twelve men, and seemed
to take up the laugh which made her and her maids bolt at my
reception, showing that she laughs not with her mouth only, but with
her eyes and cheeks: she said, "Yambo" (how are you)? To which I
replied, "Tambo sana" (very well). One of her attendants said, "Give
her something of what you have at hand, or in the pockets." I said, "I
have nothing here," and asked her if she would come back near my hut.
She replied that she would, and I duly sent for two strings of red
beads, which I presented. Being lower than she, I could see that she
had a hole through the cartilage, near the point of her slightly
aquiline nose; and a space was filed between the two front teeth, so
as to leave a triangular hole.

[Illustration: Filed Teeth of Queen Moäri.]

After delay had grown vexatious, we march three hours on the 9th, and
reach the Katofia River, covered with aquatic trees and running into
the Mbérézé: five yards wide and knee deep.

_10th June, 1868._--Detained again, for business is not finished with
the people of Casembe. The people cannot esteem the slave-trader, who
is used as a means of punishing those who have family differences, as
those of a wife with her husband, or a servant with his master. The
slaves are said to be generally criminals, and are sold in revenge or
as punishment. Kapika's wife had an ornament of the end of a shell
called the cone; it was borrowed and she came away with it in her
hair: the owner, without making any effort to recover it, seized one
of Kapika's daughters as a pledge that Kapika would exert himself to
get it back!

[At last the tedious delay came to an end and we must now follow the
Doctor on his way south to discover Lake Bemba.]

_11th June, 1868._--Crossed the Mbérézé, ten yards broad and thigh
deep, ascending a range of low hills of hardened sandstone, covered,
as the country generally is, with forest. Our course S.E. and S.S.E.
Then descended into a densely-wooded valley, having a rivulet four
yards wide and knee deep. Buffaloes and elephants very numerous.

_12th June, 1868._--We crossed the Mbérézé again twice; then a very
deep narrow rivulet, and stopped at another in a mass of trees, where
we spend the night, and killing an ox remained next day to eat it.
When at Kanengwa a small party of men came past, shouting as if they
had done something of importance: on going to them, I found that two
of them carried a lion slung to a pole. It was a small maneless
variety, called "the lion of _Nyassi_," or long grass. It had killed a
man and they killed it. They had its mouth carefully strapped, and the
paws tied across its chest, and were taking it to Casembe. _Nyassi_
means long grass, such as towers overhead, and is as thick in the
stalk as a goose-quill; and is erroneously applied to Nyassa. Other
lions--Thambwé, Karamo, Simba, are said to stand 5 feet high, and some
higher: this seemed about 3 feet high, but it was too dark to measure
it.

_13th June, 1868._--The Arabs distinguish the Suaheli, or Arabs of
mixed African blood, by the absence of beard and whiskers: these are
usually small and stunted in the Suaheli.

Birds, as the Drongo shrike, and a bird very like the grey linnet,
with a thick reddish bill, assemble in very large flocks now that it
is winter, and continue thus till November, or period of the rains.

A very minute bee goes into the common small holes in wormeaten wood
to make a comb and lay its eggs, with a supply of honey. There are
seven or eight honey-bees of small size in this country.

A sphex may be seen to make holes in the ground, placing stupified
insects in them with her eggs; another species watches when she goes
off to get more insects, and every now and then goes in too to lay her
eggs, I suppose without any labour: there does not appear to be any
enmity between them. We remained a day to buy food for the party, and
eat our ox.

_14th June, 1868._--March over well-wooded highlands with dolomite
rocks cropping out and trees all covered with lichens, the watershed
then changed to the south.

_15th June, 1868._--Yery cold in mornings now (43°). Found
Moenempanda, Casembe's brother, on the Luluputa, a stream twenty yards
wide and flowing west. The Moenempanda visited by the Portuguese was
grandfather to this one, and not at the same spot; it is useless to
put down the names of chiefs as indicating geographical positions, for
the name is often continued, but at a spot far distant from the
dwelling of the original possessor. A slave tried to break out of his
slave-stick, and actually broke half an inch of tough iron with his
fingers; the end stuck in the wood, or he would have freed himself.

The chief gave me a public reception, which was like that of Casembe,
but better managed. He is young, and very handsome but for a defect in
his eyes, which makes him keep them half shut or squinting. He walked
off in the jaunty way all chiefs do in this country, to show the
weight of rings and beads on the legs, and many imitate this walk who
have none, exactly as our fathers imitated the big cravat of George
IV., who thereby hid defects in his neck: thousands carried their
cravats over the chin who had no defects to hide. Moenempanda carried
his back stiffly, and no wonder, he had about ten yards of a train
carried behind it. About 600 people were present. They kept rank, but
not step; were well armed; marimbas and square drums formed the bands,
and one musician added his voice: "I have been to Syde" (the Sultan);
"I have been to Meereput" (King of Portugal); "I have been to the
sea." At a private reception, where he was divested of his train, and
had only one umbrella instead of three, I gave him a cloth. The Arabs
thought highly of him; but his graciousness had been expended on them
in getting into debt; he now showed no inclination to get out of it,
but offered about a twentieth part of the value of the goods in
liquidation. He sent me two pots of beer, which I care not to drink
except when very thirsty on a march, and promised a man to guide me to
Chikumbi, and then refused. Casembe rose in the esteem of all as
Moenempanda sank, and his people were made to understand how shabbily
he had behaved.

The Lulaputa is said to flow into the Luéna, and that into the Luongo:
there must be two Luénas.

_22nd June, 1868._--March across a grassy plain southerly to the
Luongo, a deep river embowered in a dense forest of trees, all covered
with lichens--some flat, others long and thready, like old men's
beards, and waving in the wind, just as they do on the mangrove-swamp
trees on the coast. The Luongo here is fifty yards broad and three
fathoms deep; near its junction with the Luapula it is 100 yards; it
rises here to eight fathoms' depth. A bridge of forty yards led us
over to an island, and a branch of the river was ten yards beyond: the
bridge had been broken, some thought on purpose, but it was soon
mended with trees eighteen to twenty yards long. We went a little way
beyond, and then halted for a day at a rivulet flowing into the
Luongo, 200 yards off.

_23rd June, 1868._--We waited for copper here, which was at first
refused as payment of debt. I saw now that the Luongo had steep clay
banks fifteen feet down, and many meadows, which must be swimming
during the rains. The Luéna is said to rise east of this.

[In a private letter Livingstone shows that he had seldom been more
affected by the sufferings of slaves than at this time, and it would
perhaps be difficult to imagine any scene more calculated to excite
misery and distress of mind.

The following incident deals with the firm belief in a future state,
which enters so largely into the minds of all Africans, and which for
very lack of guidance assumes all the distorted growths of
superstition.

He must be of a thankless spirit who does not long to substitute the
great vision of future peace afforded by Christianity, in lieu of the
ghastly satisfaction which cheered these men, when he sees by the
light of this story the capacity that exists for realising a life
beyond the grave.]

_24th June, 1868._--Six men slaves were singing as if they did not
feel the weight and degradation of the slave-sticks. I asked the cause
of their mirth, and was told that they rejoiced at the idea "of coming
back after death and haunting and killing those who had sold them."
Some of the words I had to inquire about; for instance, the meaning of
the words "to haunt and kill by spirit power;" then it was, "Oh, you
sent me off to Manga (sea-coast), but the yoke is off when I die, and
back I shall come to haunt and to kill you." Then all joined in the
chorus, which was the name of each vendor. It told not of fun, but of
the bitterness and tears of such as were oppressed, and on the side
of the oppressors there was a power: there be higher than they!

Pérémbé was one of the culprits thus menaced. The slave-owner asked
Kapika's wife if she would return to kill Kapika. The others answered
to the names of the different men with laughter. Her heart was
evidently sore: for a lady to come so low down is to her grievous. She
has lost her jaunty air, and is, with her head shaved, ugly; but she
never forgets to address her captors with dignity, and they seem to
fear her.

_25th June, 1868._--We went over flat forest with patches of brown
haematite cropping out; this is the usual iron ore, but I saw in a
village pieces of specular iron-ore which had been brought for
smelting. The Luongo flowed away somewhat to our right or west, and
the villagers had selected their site where only well-water could be
found: we went ten minutes towards the Luongo and got abundance.

[Illustration: A Forest Grave.]

The gardens had high hedges round to keep off wild beasts. We came to
a grave in the forest; it was a little rounded mound as if the
occupant sat in it in the usual native way: it was strewed over with
flour, and a number of the large blue beads put on it: a little path
showed that it had visitors. This is the sort of grave I should
prefer: to lie in the still, still forest, and no hand ever disturb my
bones. The graves at home always seemed to me to be miserable,
especially those in the cold damp clay, and without elbow room; but I
have nothing to do but wait till He who is over all decides where I
have to lay me down and die. Poor Mary lies on Shupanga brae, "and
beeks fornent the sun."[64]

Came to the Chando River, which is the boundary between Casembe and
Chikumbi; but Casembe is over all.

_27th June, 1868._--We crossed a flooded marsh with the water very
cold, and then the Chando itself twelve feet broad and knee deep, then
on to another strong brook Nsénga.

_28th June, 1868._--After service we went on up hills to a stockade of
Banyamwezi, on the Kalomina River, and here we built our sheds; the
spot is called Kizinga, and is on the top of a sandstone range covered
as usual with forest. The Banyamwezi beat off the Mazitu with their
guns, while all the country people fled. The Banyamwezi are decidedly
uglier than the Balonda and Baitawa: they eat no fish, though they
come from the east side of Tanganyika, where fish are abundant and
cheap; but though uglier, they have more of the sense of honour with
traders than the aborigines.

_29th June, 1868._--Observed the "smokes" to-day, the first of the
season:[65] they obscured the whole country.

_1st July, 1868._--I went over to Chikumbi, the paramount chief of
this district, and gave him a cloth, begging a man to guide me to
Bangweolo. He said that I was welcome to his country; all were so: I
had better wait two days till he had selected a _good_ man as a guide,
and he would send some food for me to eat in the journey--he would not
say ten days, but only two, and his man would take me to the smaller
part of the Lake, and leave others to forward me to the greater or
Bangweolo. The smaller part is named Bemba, but that name is
confusing, because Bemba is the name of the country in which a portion
of the Lake lies. When asking for Lake Bemba, Kasongo's son said to
me, "Bemba is not a lake, but a country:" it is therefore better to
use the name BANGWEOLO, which is applied to the great mass of the
water, though I fear that our English folks will bogle at it, or call
it Bungyhollow! Some Arabs say Bambeolo as easier of pronunciation,
but Bangweolo is the correct word. Chikumbi's stockade is 1-1/2 hour
S.E. of our camp at Kizinga.

_2nd July, 1868._--Writing to the Consul at Zanzibar to send supplies
of cloth to Ujiji--120 pieces, 40 Kiniki; 80 merikano 34 inches broad,
or samsam. Fine red beads--Talaka, 12 frasilas. I ask for soap,
coffee, sugar, candles, sardines, French preserved meats, a cheese in
tin, Nautical Almanac for 1869 and 1870, shoes (two or four pairs),
ruled paper, pencils, sealing-wax, ink, powder, flannel-serge, 12
frasila beads, 6 of Talaka; added 3 F. pale red, 3 W. white.

_3rd July, 1868._--The summary of the sources which I have resolved to
report as flowing into the central line of drainage formed by the
Chambezé, Luapula, and Lualaba are thirteen in all, and each is larger
than the Isis at Oxford, or Avon at Hamilton. Five flow into the
eastern line of drainage going through Tanganyika, and five more into
the western line of drainage or Lufira, twenty-three or more in all.
The Lualaba and the Lufira unite in the Lake of the chief Kinkonza.

_5th July, 1868._--I borrowed some paper from Mohamad Bogharib to
write home by some Arabs going to the coast. I will announce my
discovery to Lord Clarendon; but I reserve the parts of the Lualaba
and Tanganyika for future confirmation. I have no doubts on the
subject, for I receive the reports of natives of intelligence at first
hand, and they have no motive for deceiving me. The best maps are
formed from the same sort of reports at third or fourth hand. Cold
N.E. winds prevail at present.

_6th July, 1868._--Divided our salt that each may buy provisions for
himself: it is here of more value than beads. Chikumbi sent fine
flour, a load for two stout men carried in a large basket slung to a
pole, and a fine fat sheep, carried too because it was too fat to walk
the distance from his stockade.

_7th, 8th, and 9th July, 1868._--After delaying several days to send
our guide, Chikumbi said that he feared the country people would say
that the Ingleza brought the Mazitu to them, and so blame will be
given to him. I set this down as "words of pombe," beery babble; but
after returning from Bangweolo, I saw that he must have been preparing
to attack a stockade of Banyamwezi in our path, and had he given us a
guide, that man would have been in danger in coming back: he therefore
preferred the safety of his man to keeping his promise to me. I got a
Banyamwezi guide, and left on the _10th July, 1868_, going over gently
rising sandstone hills, covered with forest and seeing many deserted
villages, the effects of the Mazitu foray: we saw also the Mazitu
sleeping-places and paths. They neglect the common paths of the
country as going from one village to another, and take straight
courses in the direction they wish to go, treading down the grass so
as to make a well-marked route, The Banyamwezi expelled them, cutting
off so many of them with their guns and arrows that the marauders
retired. The effect of this success on the minds of the Imboshwa, or
Imbozhwas, as Chikumbi's people are called, was not gratitude, but
envy at the new power sprung up among them of those who came
originally as traders in copper.

Kombokombo's stockade, the village to which we went this day, was the
first object of assault, and when we returned, he told us that
Chikumbi had assaulted him on three sides, but was repulsed. The
Banyamwezi were, moreover, much too sharp as traders for the
Imboshwa, cheating them unmercifully, and lying like Greeks.
Kombokombo's stockade was on the Chibérasé River, which flows briskly,
eight yards broad and deep, through a mile of sponge. We came in the
midst of a general jollification, and were most bountifully supplied
with pombe and food. The Banyamwezi acknowledge allegiance to the
Sultan of Zanzibar, and all connected with him are respected.
Kombokombo pressed food and drink on me, and when I told him that I
had nothing to return for it, he said that he expected nothing: he was
a child of the Sultan, and ought to furnish all I needed.

_11th July, 1868._--On leaving the Chibérasé we passed up over a long
line of hills with many villages and gardens, but mostly deserted
during the Mazitu raid. The people fled into the forests on the hills,
and were an easy prey to the marauders, who seem to have been
unmerciful. When we descended into the valley beyond we came to a
strong stockade, which had successfully resisted the onset of the
Mazitu; we then entered on flat forest, with here and there sponges
containing plenty of water; plains succeeded the hills, and continued
all the way to Bangweolo. We made a fence in the forest; and next day
_(12th July)_ reached the Rofuba, 50 yards broad and 4-1/2 feet deep,
full of aquatic plants, and flowing south-west into the Luongo: it had
about a mile and a half of sponge on each side of it. We encamped a
little south of the river.

_13th July, 1868._--On resting at a deserted spot, the men of a
village in the vicinity came to us excited and apparently drunk, and
began to work themselves up still more by running about, poising their
spears at us, taking aim with their bows and arrows, and making as if
about to strike with their axes: they thought that we were marauders,
and some plants of ground-nuts strewn about gave colour to the idea.
There is usually one good soul in such rabbles. In this case a man
came to me, and, addressing his fellows, said, "This is only your
pombe. White man, do not stand among them, but go away," and then he
placed himself between me and a portion of the assailants, about
thirty of whom were making their warlike antics. While walking quietly
away with my good friend they ran in front and behind bushes and
trees, took aim with bow and arrow, but none shot: the younger men ran
away with our three goats. When we had gone a quarter of a mile my
friend told me to wait and he would bring the goats, which he did: I
could not feel the inebriates to be enemies; but in that state they
are the worst one can encounter, for they have no fear as they have
when sober. One snatched away a fowl from our guide, that too was
restored by our friend. I did not load my gun; for any accidental
discharge would have inflamed them to rashness. We got away without
shedding blood, and were thankful. The Mazitu raid has produced
lawlessness in the country: every one was taken as an enemy.

_14th July, 1868._--We remained a day at the stockade of Moiéggéa. A
Banyamwezi or Garaganza man is settled here in Kabaia's district, and
on the strong rivulet called Mato. We felt secure only among the
strangers, and they were friendly with us.

_15th July, 1868._--At the village on the south bank of the Mpanda we
were taken by the headman as Mazitu. He was evidently intoxicated, and
began to shut his gates with frantic gesticulations. I offered to go
away; but others of his people, equally intoxicated, insisted on my
remaining. I sat down a little, but seeing that the chief was still
alarmed, I said to his people, "The chief objects and I can't stay:"
they saw the reasonableness of this, but I could not get my cowardly
attendants to come on, though one said to me, "Come, I shall show you
the way: we must speak nice to them." This the wise boys think the
perfection of virtue, speaking nice means adopting a childish treble
tone of voice and words exactly similar to those of the little Scotch
girl who, passing through a meadow, was approached by a cow, probably
from curiosity. To appease this enemy, she said, "Oh, coo, coo, if you
no hurt me, I no hurt you." I told them to come on and leave them
quietly, but they remained babbling with them. The guide said that
there was no water in front: this I have been told too often ever to
believe, so I went on through the forest, and in an hour and a half
came to a sponge where, being joined by my attendants, we passed the
night.

_16th July, 1868._--Crossing this sponge, and passing through flat
forest, we came to another named Méshwé, when there, as a contrast,
the young men volunteered to carry me across; but I had got off my
shoes, and was in the water, and they came along with me, showing the
shallower parts. We finished the day's march by crossing the Molongosi
spongy ooze, with 150 paces of deep water, flowing N.E. The water in
these oozes or sponges felt very cold, though only 60° in the
mornings, and 65° at midday. The Molongosi people invited us into the
village; but the forest, unless when infested with leopards and lions,
is always preferable, for one is free from vermin, and free from
curiosity gazers, who in the village think they have a right to stare,
but in the forest feel that they are not on an equality with
strangers.

[It was on the 18th of July, 1868, we see that Dr. Livingstone
discovered one of the largest of the Central African Lakes. It is
extraordinary to notice the total absence of all pride and enthusiasm,
as--almost parenthetically--he records the fact.]

_17th and 18th July, 1868._--Reached the chief village of Mapuni, near
the north bank of Bangweolo. On the 18th I walked a little way out
and saw the shores of the Lake for the first time, thankful that I had
come safely hither.

I told the chief that my goods were all expended, and gave him a
fathom of calico as all I could spare: I told him that as soon as I
had seen and measured the Lake I would return north; he replied, that
seeing our goods were done he could say nothing, he would give me
guides, and what else he should do was known to himself. He gave a
public reception at once. I asked if he had ever seen anyone like me,
and he said, "Never." A Babisa traveller asked me why I had come so
far; I said I wished to make the country and people better known to
the rest of the world, that we were all children of one Father, and I
was anxious that we should know each other better, and that friendly
visits should be made in safety. I told him what the Queen had done to
encourage the growth of cotton on the Zambezi, and how we had been
thwarted by slave-traders and their abettors: they were pleased with
this. When asked I showed them my note-book, watch, compass,
burning-glass, and was loudly drummed home.

I showed them the Bible, and told them a little of its contents. I
shall require a few days more at Bangweolo than I at first intended.
The moon being in its last stage of waning I cannot observe till it is
of some size.

_19th July, 1868._--Went down to Masantu's village, which is on the
shore of the Lake, and by a spring called Chipoka, which comes out of
a mass of disintegrated granite. It is seldom that we see a spring
welling out beneath a rock: they are covered by oozing sponges, if
indeed they exist. Here we had as a spectator a man walking on stilts
tied to his ankles and knees. There are a great many Babisa among the
people. The women have their hair ornamented with strings of cowries,
and well oiled with the oil and fat from the seeds of the Mosikisi
trees. I sent the chief a fathom of calico, and got an audience at
once. Masantu is an oldish man; had never prayed to the Great Father
of all, though he said the footsteps of "Mungu," or Mulungu, could be
seen on a part of Lifungé Island: a large footstep may also be seen on
the rock at the Chambezé, about fifteen inches long. He informed us
that the Lake is much the largest at the part called Bangweolo.

The country around the Lake is all flat, and very much denuded of
trees, except the Motsikiri or Mosikisi, which has fine dark, dense
foliage, and is spared for its shade and the fatty oil yielded by its
seeds: we saw the people boiling large pots full of the dark brown
fat, which they use to lubricate their hair. The islands, four in
number, are all flat, but well peopled. The men have many canoes, and
are all expert fishermen; they are called Mboghwa, but are marked on
the forehead and chin as Babisa, and file the teeth to points. They
have many children, as fishermen usually have.

_21st July, 1868._--Canoe-men are usually extortionate, because one
cannot do without them. Mapuni claims authority over them, and sent to
demand another fathom that he may give orders to them to go with us: I
gave a hoe and a string of beads instead, but he insisted on the
cloth, and kept the hoe too, as I could not afford the time to haggle.

    Chipoka spring water at 9 A.M. 75° }
    Lake water at same time  71°       } air 72°.

    Chipoka spring at 4 P.M. 74° 5'    }
    Lake water at same time 75°        } air 71° 5'; wet bulb 70°.

No hot fountains or earthquakes are known in this region. The bottom
of the Lake consists of fine white sand, and a broad belt of strong
rushes, say 100 yards wide, shows shallow water. In the afternoons
quite a crowd of canoes anchor at its outer edge to angle; the hooks
are like ours, but without barbs. The fish are perch chiefly, but
others similar to those that appear in the other Lakes are found, and
two which attain the large size of 4 feet by 1-1/2 in. thickness: one
is called Sampa.

_22nd July, 1868._--A very high wind came with the new moon, and
prevented our going, and also the fishermen from following their
calling. Mapuni thought that we meant to make, an escape from him to
the Babisa on the south, because we were taking our goats, I therefore
left them and two attendants at Masantu's village to assure him.

_23rd July, 1868._--Wind still too strong to go. Took lunars.

_24th July, 1868._--Wind still strong.

_25th July, 1868._--Strong S.E. wind still blowing, but having paid
the canoe-men amply for four days with beads, and given Masantu a hoe
and beads too, we embarked at 11.40 A.M. in a fine canoe, 45 feet
long, 4 feet deep, and 4 feet broad. The waves were high, but the
canoe was very dry and five stout men propelled her quickly towards an
opening in Lifungé Island, on our S.E. Here we stopped to wood, and I
went away to look at the island, which had the marks of hippopotami
and a species of jackal on it: it had hard wiry grass, some flowers,
and a species of Gapparidaceous tree. The trees showed well the
direction of the prevailing wind to be south-east, for the branches on
that side were stunted or killed, while those on the north-west ran
out straight, and made the trees appear, as sailors say, lopsided: the
trunks too were bent that way.

The canoe-men now said that they would start, then that they would
sleep here, because we could not reach the Island Mpabala before dark,
and would not get a hut. I said that it would be sleeping out of doors
only in either case, so they went. We could see the island called Kisi
on our east, apparently a double island, about 15 miles off, and the
tops of the trees barely visible on Mpabala on our south-east. It was
all sea horizon on our south and north, between Lifungé and Mpabala,
and between Lifungé and Kisi. We could not go to Kisi, because, as the
canoe-men told us, they had stolen their canoe thence. Though we
decided to go, we remained awhile to let the sea go down. A
hammerhead's nest on one of the trees was fully four feet high. Coarse
rushes show the shoals near the islands. Only one shell was seen on
the shores. The canoe ships much less water in this surf than our boat
did in that of Nyassa. The water is of a deep sea-green colour,
probably from the reflection of the fine white sand of the bottom; we
saw no part having the deep dark blue of Nyassa, and conjecture that
the depth is not great; but I had to leave our line when Amoda
absconded. On Kisi we observed a dark square mass, which at first I
took to be a low hill: it turned out to be a mass of trees (probably
the place of sepulture, for the graveyards are always untouched), and
shows what a dense forest this land would become were it not for the
influence of men.

We reached Mpabala after dark. It was bitterly cold, from the amount
of moisture in the air. I asked a man who came to see what the arrival
was, for a hut; he said, "Do strangers require huts, or ask for them
at night?" he then led us to the public place of meeting, called
Nsaka, which is a large shed, with planks around and open spaces
between, instead of walls; here we cooked a little porridge, and ate
it, then I lay down on one side, with the canoe-men and my attendants
at the fire in the middle, and was soon asleep, and dreamed that I had
apartments in Mivart's Hotel. This made me feel much amused next day,
for I never dream unless I am ill, or going to be ill; and of all
places in the world, I never thought of Mivart's Hotel in my waking
moments; a freak of the fancy surely, for I was not at all
discontented with my fare, or apartment, I was only afraid of getting
a stock of vermin from my associates.

_26th July, 1868._--I have to stand the stare of a crowd of people at
every new place for hours: all usually talk as quickly as their glib
tongues can; these certainly do not belong to the tribes who are
supposed to eke out their language by signs! A few indulge their
curiosity in sight-seeing, but go on steadily weaving nets, or by
beating bark-cloth, or in spinning cotton, others smoke their big
tobacco pipes, or nurse a baby, or enjoy the heat of the bright
morning sun. I walked across the north end of the island, and found it
to be about one mile broad, I also took bearings of Chirubi Island
from the eastern point of Mpabala, and found from the south-east point
of Chirubi that there are 183° of sea horizon from it to the point of
departure of the Luapula. Chirubi is the largest of the islands, and
contains a large population, possessing many sheep and goats. At the
highest part of Mpabala we could see the tops of the trees on Kasango,
a small uninhabited islet, about thirty miles distant: the tops of the
trees were evidently lifted up by the mirage, for near the shore and
at other parts they were invisible, even with a good glass. This
uninhabited islet would have been our second stage had we been allowed
to cross the Lake, as it is of the people themselves; it is as far
beyond it to the mainland, called Manda, as from Masantu's to Mpabala.

_27th July, 1868._--Took lunars and stars for latitude.

The canoe-men now got into a flurry, because they were told here that
the Kisi men had got an inkling that their canoe was here, and were
coming to take it; they said to me that they would come back for me,
but I could not trust thieves to be so honest. I thought of seizing
their paddles, and appealing to the headmen of the island; but aware
from past experience how easy it is for acknowledged thieves like them
to get up a tale to secure the cheap sympathy of the soft-headed, or
tender-hearted, I resolved to bear with meekness, though groaning
inwardly, the loss of two of the four days for which I had paid them.
I had only my coverlet to hire another canoe, and it was now very
cold; the few beads left would all be required to buy food in the way
back, I might have got food by shooting buffaloes, but that on foot
and through grass, with stalks as thick as a goose quill, is
dreadfully hard work; I had thus to return to Masantu's, and trust to
the distances as deduced from the time taken by the natives in their
canoes for the size of the Lake.

We had come to Mpabala at the rate of six knots an hour, and returned
in the same time with six stout paddlers. The latitude was 12' in a
south-east course, which may give 24' as the actual distance. To the
sleeping-place, the Islet Kasango, there was at least 28' more, and
from thence to the mainland "Manda," other 28'. This 24 + 28 + 28 =
80' as the breadth from Masantu village, looking south-east. It lies
in 11° 0' S. If we add on the half distance to this we have 11° 40' as
the latitude of Manda. The mainland to the south of Mpabala is called
Kabendé. The land's end running south of Masantu's village is the
entrance to the Luapula: the clearest eye cannot see across it there.
I saw clouds as if of grass burning, but they were probably "Kungu,"
an edible insect, whose masses have exactly the same appearance as
they float above and on the water. From the time the canoes take to go
to Kabendé I believe the southern shore to be a little into 12° of
south latitude: the length, as inferred from canoes taking ten days to
go from Mpabala to the Chambezé, I take to be 150 miles, probably
more. No one gave a shorter time than that. The Luapula is an arm of
the Lake for some twenty miles, and beyond that is never narrower than
from 180 to 200 yards, generally much broader, and may be compared
with the Thames at London Bridge: I think that I am considerably
within the mark in setting down Bangweolo as 150 miles long by 80
broad.

When told that it contained four large islands, I imagined that these
would considerably diminish the watery acreage of the whole, as is
said to be the case with five islands in Ukerewé; but even the largest
island, Chirubi, does not in the least dwarf the enormous mass of the
water of Bangweolo. A range of mountains, named Lokinga, extends from
the south-east to the south-west: some small burns come down from
them, but no river; this range joins the Koné, or Mokoné range, west
of Katanga, from which on one side rises the Lufira, and on the other
the Liambai, or Zambesi. The river of Manda, called Matanga, is only a
departing and re-entering branch of the Lake, also the Luma and Loéla
rivers--some thirty yards broad--have each to be examined as springs
on the south of the Lake.

_July 29th, 1868._--Not a single case of Derbyshire neck, or of
Elephantiasis, was observed anywhere near the Lake, consequently the
report we had of its extreme unhealthiness was erroneous: no muddy
banks did we see, but in the way to it we had to cross so many
sponges, or oozes, that the word _matopé_, mud, was quite applicable;
and I suspect, if we had come earlier, that we should have experienced
great difficulty in getting to the Lake at all.

_30th July, 1868._--We commenced our march back, being eager to get to
Chikumbi's in case Mohamad should go thence to Katanga. We touched at
Mapuni's, and then went on to the Molongosi. Clouds now began to cover
the sky to the Mpanda, which has fifteen yards of flood, though the
stream itself is only five yards wide, then on to the Mato and
Moiéggé's stockade, where we heard of Chikumbi's attack on
Kombokombo's. Moiéggé had taken the hint, and was finishing a second
line of defence around his village: we reached him on the 1st August,
1868, and stopped for Sunday the 2nd: on the 3rd back to the Rofubu,
where I was fortunate enough to hire a canoe to take me over.

In examining a tsetse fly very carefully I see that it has a
receptacle at the root of the piercer, which is of a black or dark-red
colour; and when it is squeezed, a clear fluid is pressed out at its
point: the other two parts of the proboscis are its shield, and have
no bulb at the base. The bulb was pronounced at the Royal Society to
be only muscle, but it is curious that muscle should be furnished
where none is needed, and withheld in the movable parts of the shield
where it is decidedly needed.

_5th August, 1868._--Reach Kombokombo, who is very liberal, and
pressed us to stay a day with him as well as with others; we complied,
and found that Mohamad had gone nowhere.

_7th August, 1868._--We found a party starting from Kizinga for the
coast, having our letters with them; it will take five months to reach
the sea. The disturbed state of the country prevented parties of
traders proceeding in various directions, and one that set off on the
same day with us was obliged to return. Mohamad has resolved to go to
Manyuema as soon as parties of his men now out return: this is all in
my favour; it is in the way I want to go to see the Lualaba and Lufira
to Chowambé. The way seems opening out before me, and I am thankful. I
resolved to go north by way of Casembe, and guides were ready to
start, so was I; but rumours of war where we were going induced me to
halt to find out the truth: the guides (Banyamwezi) were going to
divine, by means of a cock, to see if it would be lucky to go with me
at present. The rumours of danger became so circumstantial that our
fence was needed: a well was dug inside, and the Banyamwezi were
employed to smelt copper as for the market of Manyuema, and balls for
war. Syde bin Omar soon came over the Luapula from Iramba, and the
state of confusion induced the traders to agree to unite their forces
and make a safe retreat out of the country. They objected very
strongly to my going away down the right bank of the Luapula with my
small party, though it was in sight, so I resolved to remain till all
went.

_13th August, 1868._--The Banyamwezi use a hammer shaped like a cone,
without a handle. They have both kinds of bellows, one of goatskin the
other of wood, with a skin over the mouth of a drum, and a handle tied
to the middle of it; with these they smelt pieces of the large bars of
copper into a pot, filled nearly full of wood ashes. The fire is
surrounded by masses of anthills, and in these there are hollows made
to receive the melted metal: the metal is poured while the pot is held
with the hands, protected by wet rags.

_15th August, 1868._--Bin Omar, a Suaheli, came from Muaboso on
Chambezé in six days, crossing in that space twenty-two burns or
oozes, from knee to waist deep.

Very high and cold winds prevail at present. It was proposed to punish
Chikumbi when Syde bin Omar came, as he is in debt and refuses
payment; but I go off to Casembe.

I learn that there is another hot fountain in the Baloba country,
called Fungwé; this, with Kapira and Vana, makes three hot fountains
in this region.

Some people were killed in my path to Casembe, so this was an
additional argument against my going that way.

Some Banyamwezi report a tribe--the Bonyolo--that extract the upper
front teeth, like Batoka; they are near Loanda, and Lake Chipokola is
there, probably the same as Kinkonza. Feeling my way. All the trees
are now pushing out fresh young leaves of different colours: winds
S.E. Clouds of upper stratum N.W.

_29th August, 1868._--Kaskas began to-day hot and sultry. This will
continue till rains fall. Rumours of wars perpetual and near; and one
circumstantial account of an attack made by the Bausé. That again
contradicted. _(31st August, 1868.)_ Rain began here this evening,
quite remarkable and exceptional, as it precedes the rains generally
off the watershed by two months at least: it was a thunder shower,
and it and another on the evening of the second were quite partial.

       *       *       *       *       *

[As we shall see, he takes advantage of his late experience to work
out an elaborate treatise on the climate of this region, which is
exceedingly important, bearing, as it does, upon the question of the
periodical floods on the rivers which drain the enormous cistern-lakes
of Central Africa.]

       *       *       *       *       *

The notion of a rainy zone, in which the clouds deposit their
treasures in perpetual showers, has received no confirmation from my
observations. In 1866-7, the rainfall was 42 inches. In 1867-8, it
amounted to 53 inches: this is nearly the same as falls in the same
latitudes on the West Coast. In both years the rains ceased entirely
in May, and with the exception of two partial thunder showers on the
middle of the watershed, no rain fell till the middle and end of
October, and then, even in November, it was partial, and limited to
small patches of country; but scarcely a day passed between October
and May without a good deal of thunder. When the thunder began to roll
or rumble, that was taken by the natives as an indication of the near
cessation of the rains. The middle of the watershed is the most humid
part: one sees the great humidity of its climate at once in the trees,
old and young, being thickly covered with lichens; some flat, on the
trunks and branches; others long and thready, like the beards of old
men waving in the wind. Large orchids on the trees in company with the
profusion of lichens are seen nowhere else, except in the mangrove
swamps of the sea-coast.

I cannot account for the great humidity of the watershed as compared
with the rest of the country, but by the prevailing winds and the
rains being from the south-east, and thus from the Indian Ocean: with
this wind generally on the surface one can observe an upper strong
wind from the north-west, that is, from the low humid West Coast and
Atlantic Ocean. The double strata of winds can easily be observed when
there are two sheets of clouds, or when burning grass over scores of
square miles sends up smoke sufficiently high to be caught by the
upper or north-west wind. These winds probably meet during the heavy
rains: now in August they overlap each other. The probability arises
from all continued rains within the tropics coming in the opposite
direction from the prevailing wind of the year. Partial rains are
usually from the south-east.

The direction of the prevailing wind of this region is well marked on
the islands in Lake Bangweolo: the trunks are bent away from the
south-east, and the branches on that side are stunted or killed; while
those on the north-west run out straight and make the trees appear
lopsided. The same bend away from the south-east is seen on all
exposed situations, as in the trees covering the brow of a hill. At
Kizinga, which is higher than the Lake, the trees are covered with
lichens, chiefly on the south-east sides, and on the upper surfaces of
branches, running away horizontally to or from the north-west. Plants
and trees, which elsewhere in Africa grow only on the banks of streams
and other damp localities, are seen flourishing all over the country:
the very rocks are covered with lichens, and their crevices with
ferns.

But that which demonstrates the humidity of the climate most
strikingly is the number of earthen sponges or oozes met with. In
going to Bangweolo from Kizinga, I crossed twenty-nine of these
reservoirs in thirty miles of latitude, on a south-east course: this
may give about one sponge for every two miles. The word "Bog" conveys
much of the idea of these earthen sponges; but it is inseparably
connected in our minds with peat, and these contain not a particle of
peat, they consist of black porous earth, covered with a hard wiry
grass, and a few other damp-loving plants. In many places the sponges
hold large quantities of the oxide of iron, from the big patches of
brown haematite that crop out everywhere, and streams of this oxide,
as thick as treacle, are seen moving slowly along in the sponge-like
small red glaciers. When one treads on the black earth of the sponge,
though little or no water appears on the surface, it is frequently
squirted up the limbs, and gives the idea of a sponge. In the paths
that cross them, the earth readily becomes soft mud, but sinks rapidly
to the bottom again, as if of great specific gravity: the water in
them is always circulating and oozing. The places where the sponges
are met with are slightly depressed valleys without trees or bushes,
in a forest country where the grass being only a foot or fifteen
inches high, and thickly planted, often looks like a beautiful glade
in a gentleman's park in England. They are from a quarter of a mile to
a mile broad, and from two to ten or more miles long. The water of the
heavy rains soaks into the level forest lands: one never sees runnels
leading it off, unless occasionally a footpath is turned to that use.
The water, descending about eight feet, comes to a stratum of yellow
sand, beneath which there is another stratum of fine white sand, which
at its bottom cakes, so as to hold the water from sinking further.

It is exactly the same as we found in the Kalahari Desert, in digging
sucking places for water for our oxen. The water, both here and there,
is guided by the fine sand stratum into the nearest valley, and here
it oozes forth on all sides through the thick mantle of black porous
earth, which forms the sponge. There, in the desert, it appears to
damp the surface sands in certain valleys, and the Bushmen, by a
peculiar process, suck out a supply. When we had dug down to the caked
sand there years ago, the people begged us not to dig further, as the
water would all run away; and we desisted, because we saw that the
fluid poured in from the fine sand all round the well, but none came
from the bottom or cake. Two stupid Englishmen afterwards broke
through the cake in spite of the entreaties of the natives, and the
well and the whole valley dried up hopelessly. Here the water, oozing
forth from the surface of the sponge mantle, collects in the centre of
the slightly depressed valley which it occupies, and near the head of
the depression forms a sluggish stream; but further down, as it meets
with more slope, it works out for itself a deeper channel, with
perpendicular banks, with, say, a hundred or more yards of sponge on
each side, constantly oozing forth fresh supplies to augment its size.
When it reaches rocky ground it is a perennial burn, with many aquatic
plants growing in its bottom. One peculiarity would strike anyone: the
water never becomes discoloured or muddy. I have seen only one stream
muddied in flood, the Choma, flowing through an alluvial plain in
Lopéré. Another peculiarity is very remarkable; it is, that after the
rains have entirely ceased, these burns have their largest flow, and
cause inundations. It looks as if towards the end of the rainy season
the sponges were lifted up by the water off their beds, and the pores
and holes, being enlarged, are all employed to give off fluid. The
waters of inundation run away. When the sponges are lifted up by
superabundance of water, all the pores therein are opened: as the
earthen mantle subsides again, the pores act like natural valves, and
are partially closed, and by the weight of earth above them, the water
is thus prevented from running away altogether; time also being
required to wet all the sand through which the rains soak, the great
supply may only find its way to the sponge a month or so after the
great rains have fallen.

I travelled in Lunda, when the sponges were all supersaturated. The
grassy sward was so lifted up that it was separated into patches or
tufts, and if the foot missed the row of tufts of this wiry grass
which formed the native path, down one plumped up to the thigh in
slush. At that time we could cross the sponge only by the native
paths, and the central burn only where they had placed bridges:
elsewhere they were impassable, as they poured off the waters of
inundation: our oxen were generally bogged--all four legs went down up
to the body at once. When they saw the clear sandy bottom of the
central burn they readily went in, but usually plunged right over
head, leaving their tail up in the air to show the nervous shock they
had sustained.

These sponges are a serious matter in travelling. I crossed the
twenty-nine already mentioned at the end of the fourth month of the
dry season, and the central burns seemed then to have suffered no
diminution: they were then from calf to waist deep, and required from
fifteen to forty minutes in crossing; they had many deep holes in the
paths, and when one plumps therein every muscle in the frame receives
a painful jerk. When past the stream, and apparently on partially dry
ground, one may jog in a foot or more, and receive a squirt of black
mud up the thighs: it is only when you reach the trees and are off the
sour land that you feel secure from mud and leeches. As one has to
strip the lower part of the person in order to ford them, I found that
often four were as many as we could cross in a day. Looking up these
sponges a bird's-eye view would closely resemble the lichen-like
vegetation of frost on window panes; or that vegetation in
Canada-balsam which mad philosophical instrument makers _will_ put
between the lenses of the object-glasses of our telescopes. The flat,
or nearly flat, tops of the subtending and transverse ridges of this
central country give rise to a great many: I crossed twenty-nine, a
few of the feeders of Bangweolo, in thirty miles of latitude in one
direction. Burns are literally innumerable: rising on the ridges, or
as I formerly termed them mounds, they are undoubtedly the primary or
ultimate sources of the Zambezi, Congo, and Nile: by their union are
formed streams of from thirty to eighty or 100 yards broad, and always
deep enough to require either canoes or bridges. These I propose to
call the secondary sources, and as in the case of the Nile they are
drawn off by three lines of drainage, they become the head waters (the
_caput_ Nili) of the river of Egypt.

Thanks to that all-embracing Providence, which has watched over and
enabled me to discover what I have done. There is still much to do,
and if health and protection be granted I shall make a complete thing
of it.

[Then he adds in a note a little further on:--]

But few of the sponges on the watershed ever dry; elsewhere many do;
the cracks in their surface are from 15 to 18 inches deep, with lips
from 2 to 3 inches apart. Crabs and other animals in clearing out
their runs reveal what I verified by actually digging wells at Kizinga
and in Kabuiré, and also observed in the ditches 15 feet deep dug by
the natives round many of their stockades, that the sponge rests on a
stratum of fine white washed sand. These cracks afford a good idea of
the effect of the rains: the partial thunder-showers of October,
November, December, and even January, produce no effect on them; it is
only when the sun begins to return from his greatest southern
declination that the cracks close their large lips. The whole sponge
is borne up, and covers an enormous mass of water, oozing forth in
March and April forming the inundations. These floods in the Congo,
Zambesi, and Nile require different times to reach the sea. The bulk
of the Zambesi is further augmented by the greater rains finding many
pools in the beds of its feeders filled in February, as soon as the
sun comes north.

_Mem._--In apparent contradiction of the foregoing, so far as touches
the sources of the Zambesi, Syde bin Habib informed me a few days ago
that he visited the sources of the Liambai and of the Lufira. Each
comes out of a fountain; the Lufira one is called Changozi, and is
small, and in a wood of large trees S.W. of Katanga; the fountain of
the Liambai is so large that one cannot call to a person on the other
side, and he appears also very small there--the two fountains are just
five hours distant from each other. He is well acquainted with the
Liambai (Leeambye), where I first met him. Lunga, another river, comes
out of nearly the same spot which goes into the Leuñge, Kafué (?).
Lufira is less than Kalongosi up there; that is less than 80 or 200
yards, and it has deep waterfalls in it. The Koné range comes down
north, nearly to Mpméto's. Mkana is the chief of the stone houses in
the Baloba, and he may be reached by three days of hard travelling
from Mpwéto's; Lufira is then one long day west. As Muabo refuses to
show me his "mita," "miengelo," or "mpamankanana" as they are called,
I must try and get to those of the Baloba of Mkana.

Senegal swallows pair in the beginning of December.


_Note_.--Inundation.

The inundation I have explained in the note on the climate as owing to
the sponges being supersaturated in the greater rains, when the sun
returns from his greatest southern declination, the pores are then all
enlarged, and the water of inundation flows in great volume even after
the rains have entirely ceased. Something has probably to be learned
from the rainfall at or beyond the equator, as the sun pursues his way
north beyond my beat, but the process I have named accounts
undoubtedly for the inundations of the Congo and Zambesi. The most
acute of the ancients ascribed the inundation with Strabo to summer
rains in the south; others to snows melting on the Mountains of the
Moon; others to the northern wind--the Etesian breezes blowing
directly against the mouth of the river and its current: others, with
less reason, ascribed the inundation to its having its source in the
ocean: Herodotus and Pliny to evaporation following the course of the
sun.

_1st September, 1868._--Two men come from Casembe--I am reported
killed. The miningo-tree distils water, which falls in large drops.
The Luapula seen when the smoke clears off. Fifty of Syde bin Omar's
people died of small-pox in Usafa. _Mem._ Vaccine virus. We leave on
the 25th, east bank of Moisi River, and cross the Luongo on the 28th,
the Lofubu on the 1st October, and the Kalongosi on the 7th.

[Dr. Livingstone seems to have been unable to find opportunity to make
daily entries at this period. All was turmoil and panic, and his life
appears to have been in imminent danger. Briefly we see that on his
way back from the Lake he found that his Arab associates of the last
few months had taken up Casembe's cause against the devastating hordes
of Mazitu, who had swept down on these parts, and had repulsed them.
But now a fresh complication arose! Casembe and Chikumbi became
alarmed lest the Arabs, feeling their own power, should turn upon them
and possess the whole country, so they joined forces and stormed
Kombokombo, one of the leading Arabs, and with what success we shall
see. It is a fair specimen of the unaccountable complications which
dog the steps of the traveller, where war is afoot, and render life a
misery. He writes as follows on the 5th October:--]

I was detained in the Imbozhwa country much longer than I relished.
The inroad of the Mazitu, of which Casembe had just heard when we
reached the Mofwé, was the first cause of delay: he had at once sent
off men to verify the report, and requested me to remain till his
messengers should return. This foray produced a state of lawlessness
in the country, which was the main reason of our further detention.

The Imbozhwa fled before the marauders, and the Banyamwezi or
Garaganza, who had come in numbers to trade in copper, took on
themselves the duty of expelling the invaders, and this, by means of
their muskets, they did effectually, then, building stockades they
excited the jealousy of the Imbozhwa lords of the soil who, instead of
feeling grateful, hated the new power thus sprung up among them! They
had suffered severely from the sharp dealing of the strangers already,
and Chikumbi made a determined assault on the stockade of Kombokombo
in vain.

Confusion prevailed all over the country. Some Banyamwezi assumed the
offensive against the Baüsi, who resemble the Imbozhwa, but are
further south, and captured and sold some prisoners: it was in this
state of things that, as already mentioned, I was surrounded by a
party of furious Imbozhwa. A crowd stood within fifteen or twenty
yards with spears poised and arrows set in the bowstrings, and some
took aim at me: they took us for plunderers, and some plants of
ground-nuts thrown about gave colour to their idea. One good soul
helped us away--a blessing be on him and his. Another chief man took
us for Mazitu! In this state of confusion Cazembe heard that my party
had been cut off: he called in Moenempanda and took the field in
person, in order to punish the Banyamwezi, against whom he has an old
grudge for killing a near relative of his family, selling Baüsi, and
setting themselves up as a power in his country.

The two Arab traders now in the country felt that they must unite
their forces, and thereby effect a safe retreat. Chikumbi had kept
twenty-eight tusks for Syde bin Omar safely; but the coming of Casembe
might have put it out of his power to deliver up his trust in safety,
for an army here is often quite lawless: each man takes to himself
what he can. When united we marched from Kizinga on 23rd September
together, built fences every night to protect ourselves and about 400
Banyamwezi, who took the opportunity to get safely away. Kombokombo
came away from his stockade, and also part of the way, but cut away by
night across country to join the parties of his countrymen who still
love to trade in Katanga copper. We were not molested, but came nearly
north to the Kalongosi. Syde parted from us, and went away east to
Mozamba, and thence to the coast.

FOOTNOTES:

[64] The allusion is to Mrs. Livingstone's grave.

[65] At one season the long grass which covers the face of the country
catches fire. For some three months the air is consequently filled
with smoke.--ED.




CHAPTER XIII.

    Cataracts of the Kalongosi. Passage of the river disputed.
    Leeches and method of detaching them. Syde bin Habib's slaves
    escape. Enormous collection of tusks. III. Theory of the Nile
    sources. Tribute to Miss Tinné. Notes on climate. Separation of
    Lake Nyassa from the Nile system. Observations on Victoria
    Nyanza. Slaves dying. Repentant deserters. Mohamad Bogharib.
    Enraged Imbozhwa. An attack. Narrow escape. Renewed attack. A
    parley. Help arrives. Bin Juma. March from the Imbozhwa country.
    Slaves escape. Burial of Syde bin Habib's brother. Singular
    custom. An elephant killed. Native game-laws. Rumour of Baker's
    Expedition. Christmas dinners.


_11th October, 1868._--From Kizinga north the country is all covered
with forest, and thrown up into ridges of hardened sandstone, capped
occasionally with fine-grained clay schist. Trees often appear of
large size and of a species closely resembling the gum-copal tree; on
the heights masukos and rhododendrons are found, and when exposed they
are bent away from the south-east. Animals, as buffaloes and
elephants, are plentiful, but wild. Rivulets numerous, and running now
as briskly as brooks do after much rain in England. All on the
south-western side of Kalongosi are subjects of Casembe, that is
Balunda, or Imbozhwa.

It was gratifying to see the Banyamwezi carrying their sick in cots
slung between two men: in the course of time they tired of this, and
one man, who was carried several days, remained with Chuma. We crossed
the Luongo far above where we first became acquainted with it, and
near its source in Urungu or Usungu Hills, then the Lobubu, a goodly
stream thirty yards broad and rapid with fine falls above our ford,
which goes into Kalongosi.

_6th October, 1868._--Cross the Papusi, and a mile beyond the Luéna of
forty yards and knee deep; here we were met by about 400 of Kabanda's
men, as if they were come to dispute our passage at the ford: I went
over; all were civil; but had we shown any weakness they would no
doubt have taken advantage of it.

_7th October, 1868._--We came to the Kalongosi, flowing over five
cataracts made by five islets in a place called Kabwérumé. Near the
Mebamba a goodly rivulet joins it.

_12th October, 1868._--We came to the Kalongosi at the ford named
Mosolo: by pacing I found it to be 240 yards broad, and thigh deep at
the end of the dry season, it ran so strongly that it was with
difficulty I could keep my feet. Here 500 at least of Nsama's people
stood on the opposite shore to know what we wanted. Two fathoms of
calico were sent over, and then I and thirty guns went over to protect
the people in the ford: as we approached they retired. I went to them,
and told them that I had been to Nsama's, and he gave me a goat and
food, and we were good friends: some had seen me there, and they now
crowded to look till the Arabs thought it unsafe for me to be among
them: if I had come with bared skin they would have fled. All became
friendly: an elephant was killed, and we remained two days buying
food. We passed down between the ranges of hills on the east of Moero,
the path we followed when we first visited Casembe.

_20th and 21st October, 1868._--From the Luao I went over to the chief
village of Muabo, and begged him to show me the excavations in his
country: he declined, by saying that I came from a crowd of people,
and must go to Kabwabwata, and wait awhile there, meanwhile he would
think what he should do, whether to refuse or invite me to come. He
evidently does not wish me to see his strongholds. All his people
could go into them, though over ten thousand: they are all abundantly
supplied with water, and they form the storehouses for grain.

_22nd October, 1868._--We came to Kabwabwata, and I hope I may find a
way to other underground houses. It is probable that they are not the
workmanship of the ancestors of the present occupants, for they
ascribe their formation invariably to the Deity, Mulungu or Réza: if
their forefathers had made them, some tradition would have existed of
them.

_23rd October, 1868._--Syde bin Habib came over from Mpwéto's; he
reports Lualaba and Lufira flowing into the Lake of Kinkonza.
Lungabalé is paramount chief of Rua.

Mparahala horns measured three feet long and three inches in diameter
at the base: this is the yellow kualata of Makololo, bastard gemsbuck
of the Dutch.

_27th, 29th, and 30th October, 1868._--Salem bin Habib was killed by
the people in Rua: he had put up a tent and they attacked it in the
night, and stabbed him through it. Syde bin Habib waged a war of
vengeance all through Rua after this for the murder of his brother:
Sef's raid may have led the people to the murder.

_29th October, 1868._--In coming north in September and October, the
last months of the dry season, I crossed many burns flowing quite in
the manner of our brooks at home, after a great deal of rain; here,
however, the water was clear, and the banks not abraded in the least.
Some rivulets had a tinge of white in them, as if of felspar in
disintegrating granite; some nearly stagnant burns had as if milk and
water in them, and some red oxide of iron.

Where leeches occur they need no coaxing to bite, but fly at the white
skin like furies, and refuse to let go: with the fingers benumbed,
though the water is only 60°, one may twist them round the finger and
tug, but they slip through. I saw the natives detaching them with a
smart slap of the palm, and found it quite effectual.

Swifts, Senegal swallows, and common dark-bellied swallows appeared at
Kizinga in the beginning of October: other birds, as drongo shrikes, a
bird with a reddish bill, but otherwise like a grey linnet, keep in
flocks yet. _(5th December.)_ They pair now. The kite came sooner than
the swallows; I saw the first at Bangweolo on the 20th July, 1868.

_1st November, 1868._--At Kabwabwata; we are waiting till Syde comes
up that we may help him. He has an enormous number of tusks and bars
of copper, sufficient it seems for all his people to take forward,
going and returning three times over. He has large canoes on the Lake,
and will help us in return.

_2nd November, 1868._--News came yesterday from Mpwéto's that
twenty-one slaves had run away from Syde bin Habib at one time: they
were Rua people, and out of the chains, as they were considered safe
when fairly over the Lualaba, but they showed their love of liberty on
the first opportunity. Mpwéto is suspected to have harboured them, or
helped them over the river; this will probably lead to Syde attacking
him, as he has done to so many chiefs in Rua. In this case Mpwéto will
have no sympathy; he is so wanting in the spirit of friendliness to
others.

_3rd November, 1868._--Sent off men to hasten Syde onwards. We start
in two or three days.

The oldest map known to be in existence is the map of the Ethiopian
Goldmines, dating from the time of Sethos I., the father of Rameses
II., long enough before the time of the bronze tablet of Aristagoras,
on which was inscribed the circuit of the whole earth, and all the sea
and all rivers. (Tylor, p. 90, quoted from Birch's _Archaeologia_,
vol. xxxiv. p. 382.) Sesostris was the first to distribute his maps.

_8th November, 1868._--Syde bin Habib is said to have amassed 150
frasilahs of ivory = 5250 lbs., and 300 frasilahs of copper = 10,500
lbs. With one hundred carriers he requires to make four relays, or
otherwise make the journey four times over at every stage. Twenty-one
of his slaves ran away in one night, and only four were caught again:
they were not all bought, nor was the copper and ivory come at by fair
means; the murder of his brother was a good excuse for plunder,
murder, and capture. Mpwéto is suspected of harbouring them as living
on the banks of the Lualaba, for they could not get over without
assistance from his canoes and people. Mpwéto said, "Remove from me,
and we shall see if they come this way." They are not willing to
deliver fugitives up. Syde sen£ for Elmas, the only thing of the
Mullam or clerical order here, probably to ask if the Koran authorizes
him to attack Mpwéto. Mullam will reply, "Yes, certainly. If Mpwéto
won't restore your slaves, take what you can by force." Syde's
bloodshed is now pretty large, and he is becoming afraid for his own
life; if he ceases not, he will himself be caught some day.

Ill of fever two days. Better and thankful.

[Whilst waiting to start for Ujiji, Livingstone was intently occupied
on the great problem of the Nile and the important part he had taken
so recently in solving it: he writes at this date as follows:--]

   The discovery of the sources of the Nile is somewhat akin in
   importance to the discovery of the North-West Passage, which
   called forth, though in a minor degree, the energy, the
   perseverance, and the pluck of Englishmen, and anything that does
   that is beneficial to the nation and to its posterity. The
   discovery of the sources of the Nile possesses, moreover, an
   element of interest which the North-West Passage never had. The
   great men of antiquity have recorded their ardent desires to know
   the fountains of what Homer called "_Egypt's heaven-descended
   spring._" Sesostris, the first who in camp with his army made and
   distributed maps, not to Egyptians only, but to the Scythians,
   naturally wished to know the springs, says Eustathius, of the
   river on whose banks he flourished. Alexander the Great, who
   founded a celebrated city at this river's-mouth, looked up the
   stream with the same desire, and so did the Caesars. The great
   Julius Caesar is made by Lucan to say that he would give up the
   civil war if he might but see the fountains of this far-famed
   river. Nero Caesar sent two centurions to examine the "_Caput
   Nili_." They reported that they saw the river rushing with great
   force from two rocks, and beyond that it was lost in immense
   marshes. This was probably "native information," concerning the
   cataracts of the Nile and a long space above them, which had
   already been enlarged by others into two hills with sharp conical
   tops called Crophi and Mophi--midway between which lay the
   fountains of the Nile--fountains which it was impossible to
   fathom, and which gave forth half their water to Ethiopia in the
   south, and the other half to Egypt in the north: that which these
   men failed to find, and that which many great minds in ancient
   times longed to know, has in this late age been brought to light
   by the patient toil and laborious perseverance of Englishmen.[66]

   In laying a contribution to this discovery at the feet of his
   countrymen, the writer desires to give all the honour to his
   predecessors which they deserve. The work of Speke and Grant is
   deserving of the highest commendation, inasmuch as they opened up
   an immense tract of previously unexplored country, in the firm
   belief they were bringing to light the head of the Nile. No one
   can appreciate the difficulties of their feat unless he has gone
   into new country. In association with Captain Burton, Speke came
   much nearer to the "coy fountains," than at the Victoria Nyanza,
   but they all turned their backs on them. Mr. Baker showed courage
   and perseverance worthy of an Englishman in following out the
   hints given by Speke and Grant. But none rises higher in my
   estimation than the Dutch lady Miss Tinné, who, after the
   severest domestic afflictions, nobly persevered in the teeth of
   every difficulty, and only turned away from the object of her
   expedition, after being assured by Speke and Grant that they had
   already discovered in Victoria Nyanza the sources she sought. Had
   they not given their own mistaken views, the wise foresight by
   which she provided a steamer, would inevitably have led her to
   pull up, and by canoes to reach Lake Bangweolo's sources full
   five hundred miles south of the most southerly part of Victoria
   Nyanza. She evidently possesses some of the indomitable pluck of
   Van Tromp, whose tomb every Englishman who goes to Holland must
   see.[67] Her doctor was made a baron--were she not a Dutch lady
   already we think she ought to be made a duchess.

   By way of contrast with what, if I live through it, I shall have
   to give, I may note some of the most prominent ideas entertained
   of this world-renowned river. Ptolemy, a geographer who lived in
   the second century, and was not a king of Egypt, with the most
   ancient maps made the Nile rise from the "Montes Lunae," between
   ten and twelve south lat., by six several streams which flowed
   north into two Lakes, situated east and west of each other.
   These streams flowed about west of his river Rhapta, or Raptus,
   which is probably our Rovuma or Louma. This was very near the
   truth, but the Mountains of the Moon cannot be identified with
   the Lokinga, or mountains of Bisa, from which many of the springs
   do actually arise. Unless, indeed, we are nearer to the great
   alterations in climate which have taken place, as we are supposed
   to be nearer the epoch of the mammoth, aurochs, and others. Snow
   never lay in these latitudes, on altitudes of 6000 feet above the
   sea.

   Some of the ancients supposed the river to have its source in the
   ocean. This was like the answer we received long ago from the
   natives on the Liambai or Upper Zambesi when inquiring for its
   source. "It rises in Leoatlé, the white man's sea, or Métséhula."
   The second name means the "_grazing water_," from the idea of the
   tides coming in to graze; as to the freshness of the Liambai
   waters, they could offer no explanation.

   Some again thought that the Nile rose in Western Africa, and
   after flowing eastwards across the Continent, turned northwards
   to Egypt; others still thought that it rose in India! and others
   again, from vague reports collected from their slaves, made it
   and several other rivers rise but of a great inland sea.
   _Achélunda_ was said to be the name of this Lake, and in the
   language of Angola, it meant the "sea." It means only "_of_" or
   "_belonging to Lunda_," a country. It might have been a sea that
   was spoken of on a whole, or anything. "_Nyassi, or the sea_,"
   was another name and another blunder. "Nyassi" means long grass,
   and nothing else. Nyanza contracted into Nyassa, means lake,
   marsh, any piece of water, or even the dry bed of a lake. The _N_
   and _y_ are joined in the mouth, and never pronounced separately.
   The "Naianza"!--it would be nearer the mark to say the Nancy!

   Of all theoretical discoverers, the man who ran in 200 miles of
   Lake and placed them on a height of some 4000 feet at the
   north-west end of Lake Nyassa, deserves the highest place. Dr.
   Beke, in his guess, came nearer the sources than most others, but
   after all he pointed out where they would not be found. Old Nile
   played the theorists a pretty prank by having his springs 500
   miles south of them all! I call mine a contribution, because it
   is just a hundred years (1769) since Bruce, a greater traveller
   than any of us, visited Abyssinia, and having discovered the
   sources of the Blue Nile, he thought that he had then solved the
   ancient problem. Am I to be cut out by some one discovering
   southern fountains of the river of Egypt, of which I have now no
   conception?

   David Livingstone.

[The tiresome procrastination of Mohamad and his horde was not
altogether an unmixed evil. With so many new discoveries in hand
Livingstone had an opportunity for working out several problems, and
instituting comparisons between the phenomena of Inner Africa and the
well-marked changes which go on in other parts of the world. We find
him at this time summing them up as follows:--]

The subject of change of climate from alteration of level has not
received the investigation it deserves. Mr. Darwin saw reason to
believe that very great alterations of altitude, and of course of
climate, had taken place in South America and the islands of the
Pacific; the level of a country above the sea I believe he thought to
be as variable as the winds. A very great alteration of altitude has
also taken place in Africa; this is apparent on the sea-coast of
Angola, and all through the centre of the country, where large rivers
which once flowed southwards and westwards are no longer able to run
in these directions: the general desiccation of the country, as seen
in the beds of large rivers and of enormous lakes, tells the same
tale. Portions of the east coast have sunk, others have risen, even in
the Historic Period. The upper or northern end of the Red Sea has
risen, so that the place of the passage of the children of Israel is
now between forty and fifty miles from Suez, the modern head of the
Gulf. This upheaval, and not the sand from the desert, caused the
disuse of the ancient canal across the Isthmus: it took place since
the Mohamadan conquest of Egypt. The women of the Jewish captivities
were carried past the end of the Red Sea and along the Mediterranean
in ox-waggons, where such cattle would now all perish for want of
water and pasture; in fact, the route to Assyria would have proved
more fatal to captives then than the middle passage has been to
Africans since. It may be true that, _as the desert is now_, it could
not have been traversed by the multitude under Moses--the German
strictures put forth by Dr. Colenso, under the plea of the progress of
science, assume that no alteration has taken place in either desert or
climate--but a scientific examination of the subject would have
ascertained what the country was then when it afforded pasture to
"flocks and herds, and even very much cattle." We know that Eziongeber
was, with its docks, on the seashore, with water in abundance for the
ship-carpenters: it is now far from the head of the Elaic Gulf in a
parched desert. Aden, when visited by the Portuguese Balthazar less
than 300 years ago, was a perfect garden; but it is now a vast
conglomeration of black volcanic rocks, with so little vegetation,
that, on seeing flocks of goats driven out, I thought of the Irish
cabman at an ascent slamming the door of his cab and whispering to his
fare, "Whish, it's to desave the baste: he thinks that you are out
walking." Gigantic tanks in great numbers and the ruins of aqueducts
appear as relics of the past, where no rain now falls for three or
more years at a time. They have all dried up by a change of climate,
possibly similar and cotemporaneous with that which has dried up the
Dead Sea.

The journey of Ezra was undertaken after a fast at the River Ahava.
With nearly 50,000 people he had only about 8000 beasts of burden. He
was ashamed to ask a band of soldiers and horsemen for protection in
the way. It took about four months to reach Jerusalem; this would give
five and a half or six miles a day, as the crow flies, which is equal
to twelve or fifteen miles of surface travelled over; this bespeaks a
country capable of yielding both provisions and water, such as cannot
now be found. Ezra would not have been ashamed to ask for camels to
carry provisions and water had the country been as dry as it is now.
The prophets, in telling all the woes and miseries of the captivities,
never allude to suffering or perishing by thirst in the way, or being
left to rot in the route as African slaves are now in a well-watered
country. Had the route to Assyria been then as it is now, they could
scarcely have avoided referring to the thirst of the way; but
everything else is mentioned except that.

Respecting this system of Lakes in the centre of Africa, it will
possibly occur to some that Lake Nyassa may give a portion of its
water off from its northern end to the Nile, but this would imply a
Lake giving off a river at both ends; the country, too, on the
north-north-west and north-east rises to from 4000 to 6000 feet above
the sea, and there is not the smallest indication that Nyassa and
Tanganyika were ever connected. Lake Liemba is the most southerly part
of Tanganyika; its latitude is 8° 46' south; the most northerly point
of Lake Nyassa is probably 10° 56'-8° 46' = 2° 10'. Longitude of
Liemba 34° 57'-31° 57' = 3° 00' = 180' of longitude. Of latitude 130'
+ 180' = 310', two-thirds of which is about 206', the distance between
two Lakes; and no evidence of fissure, rent, or channel now appears on
the highland between.

Again, Liemba is 3000 feet above the sea. The altitude of Nyassa is
1200/x800 feet. Tanganyika would thus go to Nyassa--down the Shiré
into the Zambesi and the sea, if a passage existed even below ground.

The large Lake, said to exist to the north-west of Tanganyika might,
however, send a branch to the Nile; but the land rises up into a high
ridge east of this Lake.

It is somewhat remarkable that the impression which intelligent
Suaheli, who have gone into Karagwé, have received is, that the
Kitangulé flows from Tanganyika into Lake Ukerewé. One of Syde bin
Omar's people put it to me very forcibly the other day by saying,
"Kitangulé is an arm of Tanganyika!" He had not followed it out; but
that Dagara, the father of Rumanyika, should have in his lifetime
seriously proposed to deepen the upper part of it, so as to allow
canoes to pass from his place to Ujiji, is very strong evidence of the
river being large on the Tanganyika side. We know it to be of good
size, and requiring canoes on the Ukerewé side. Burton came to the
very silly conclusion that when a native said a river ran one way, he
meant that it flowed in the opposite direction. Ujiji, in Rumanyika's
time, was the only mart for merchandise in the country. Garaganza or
Galaganza has most trade and influence now. (_14th Sept., 1868._)

Okara is the name by which Victoria Nyanza is known on the eastern
side, and an arm of it, called Kavirondo, is about forty miles broad.
Lake Baringo is a distinct body of water, some fifty miles broad, and
giving off a river called Ngardabash, which flows eastwards into the
Somauli country. Lake Naibash is more to the east than Kavirondo, and
about fifty miles broad too: it gives off the River Kidété, which is
supposed to flow into Lufu. It is south-east of Kavirondo; and
Kilimanjaro can be seen from its shores; in the south-east Okara,
Naibash and Baringo seem to have been run by Speke into one Lake.
Okara, in the south, is full of large islands, and has but little
water between them; that little is encumbered with aquatic vegetation
called "Tikatika," on which, as in lakelet Gumadona, a man can walk.
Waterlilies and duckweed are not the chief part of this floating mass.
In the north Okara is large. Burukineggé land is the boundary between
the people of Kavirondo and the Gallahs with camels and horses.

_9th November, 1868._--Copied several Notes written at Kizinga and
elsewhere, and at Kabwabwata resume Journal. Some slight showers have
cooled the air a little: this is the hottest time of the year.

_10th November, 1868._--A heavier shower this morning will have more
of the same effect.

_11th November, 1868._--Muabo visited this village, but refuses to
show his underground houses.

_13th November, 1868._--I was on the point of starting without Mohamad
Bogharib, but he begged me not to go till he had settled some weighty
matter about a wife he is to get at Ujiji from Mpamari; we must have
the new moon, which will appear in three days, for lucky starting, and
will leave Syde bin Habib at Chisabi's. Meanwhile two women slaves ran
away, and Syde has got only five back of his twenty-one fugitives.
Mullam was mild with his decisions, and returned here; he informed me
that many of Syde's slaves, about forty, fled. Of those who cannot
escape many die, evidently broken-hearted; they are captives, and not,
as slaves often are, criminals sold for their guilt, hence the great
mortality caused by being taken to the sea to be, as they believe,
fatted and eaten. Poor things! Heaven help them!

Ujiji is the pronunciation of the Banyamwezi; and they call the people
Wayeiyé, exactly as the same people styled themselves on the River
Zougha, near Ngami.

[It will be remembered that several of his men refused to go to Lake
Bangweolo with him: they seem now to have thought better of it, and on
his return are anxious to come back to their old master who, for his
part, is evidently willing to overlook a good deal.]

I have taken all the runaways back again; after trying the independent
life they will behave better. Much of their ill conduct may be
ascribed to seeing that after the flight of the Johanna men I was
entirely dependent on them: more enlightened people often take
advantage of men in similar circumstances; though I have seen pure
Africans come out generously to aid one abandoned to their care. I
have faults myself.

_15th November, 1868._--The Arabs have some tradition of the Emir Musa
coming as far south as the Jagga country. Some say he lived N.E. of
Sunna, now Mtéza; but it is so mixed up with fable and tales of the
Genii (Mageni), that it cannot refer to the great Moses, concerning
whose residence at Meröe and marriage of the king of Ethiopia's
daughter there is also some vague tradition further north: the only
thing of interest to me is the city of Meröe, which is lost, and may,
if built by ancient Egyptians, still be found.

The Africans all beckon with the hand, to call a person, in a
different way from what Europeans do. The hand is held, as surgeons
say, _prone_, or palm down, while we beckon with the hand held
_supine_, or palm up: it is quite natural in them, for the idea in
their mind is to lay the hand on the person and draw him towards them.
If the person wished for is near, say forty yards off, the beckoner
puts out his right hand on a level with his breast, and makes the
motion of catching the other by shutting the fingers and drawing him
to himself: if the person is further off, this motion is exaggerated
by lifting up the right hand as high as he can; he brings it down with
a sweep towards the ground, the hand being still held prone as before.
In nodding assent they differ from us by lifting up the chin instead
of bringing it down as we do. This lifting up the chin looks natural
after a short usage therewith, and is perhaps purely conventional, not
natural, as the other seems to be.

_16th November, 1868._--I am tired out by waiting after finishing the
Journal, and will go off to-morrow north. Simon killed a zebra after I
had taken the above resolution, and this supply of meat makes delay
bearable, for besides flesh, of which I had none, we can buy all kinds
of grain and pulse for the next few days. The women of the adjacent
villages crowd into this as soon as they hear of an animal killed, and
sell all the produce of their plantations for meat.

_17th November, 1868._--It is said that on the road to the Great Salt
Lake in America the bones and skulls of animals lie scattered
everywhere, yet travellers are often put to great straits for fuel:
this, if true, is remarkable among a people so apt in turning
everything to account as the Americans. When we first steamed up the
River Shiré our fuel ran out in the elephant marsh, where no trees
exist, and none could be reached without passing through many miles on
either side of impassable swamp, covered with reeds, and intersected
everywhere with deep branches of the river. Coming to a spot where an
elephant had been slaughtered, I at once took the bones on board, and
these, with the bones of a second elephant, enabled us to steam
briskly up to where wood abounded. The Scythians, according to
Herodotus, used the bones[68] of the animal sacrificed to boil the
flesh, the Guachos of South America do the same when they have no
fuel: the ox thus boils himself.

_18th November, 1868._--A pretty little woman ran away from her
husband, and came to "Mpamari." Her husband brought three hoes, a
checked cloth, and two strings of large neck beads to redeem her; but
this old fellow wants her for himself, and by native law he can keep
her as his slave-wife. Slave-owners make a bad neighbourhood, for the
slaves, are always running away and the headmen are expected to
restore the fugitives for a bit of cloth. An old woman of Mpmari fled
three times; she was caught yesterday, and tied to a post for the
young slaves to plague her. Her daughter burst into an agony of tears
on seeing them tying her mother, and Mpamari ordered her to be tied to
the mother's back for crying; I interceded for her, and she was let
go. He said, "You don't care, though Sayed Majid loses his money." I
replied, "Let the old woman go, she will be off again to-morrow." But
they cannot bear to let a slave have freedom. I don't understand what
effect his long prayers and prostrations towards the "Kibla" have on
his own mind, they cannot affect the minds of his slaves favourably,
nor do they mine, though I am as charitable as most people.

_19th November, 1868._--I prepared to start to-day, but Mohamad
Bogharib has been very kind, and indeed cooked meals for me from my
arrival at Casembe's, 6th May last, till we came here, 22nd October;
the food was coarse enough, but still it was food; and I did not like
to refuse his genuine hospitality. He now begged of me not to go for
three days, and then he would come along with me! Mpamari also
entreated. I would not have minded him, but they have influence with
the canoe-men on Tanganyika, and it is well not to get a bad name if
possible.

_20th November, 1868._--Mohamad Bogharib purposed to attack two
villages near to this, from an idea that the people there concealed
his runaway slaves; by remaining I think that I have put a stop to
this, as he did not like to pillage while I was in company: Mpamari
also turned round towards peace, though he called all the riff-raff to
muster, and caracoled among them like an old broken-winded horse. One
man became so excited with yelling, that the others had to disarm
him, and he then fell down as if in a fit; water poured on his head
brought him to calmness. We go on the 22nd.

_22nd November, 1868._--This evening the Imbozhwa, or Babemba, came at
dusk, and killed a Wanyamwezi woman on one side of the village, and a
woman and child on the other side of it. I took this to be the result
of the warlike demonstration mentioned above; but one of Mohamad
Bogharib's people, named Bin Juma, had gone to a village on the north
of this and seized two women and two girls, in lieu of four slaves who
had run away. The headman, resenting this, shot an arrow into one of
Bin Junta's party, and Bin Juma shot a woman with his gun.

This, it turned out, had roused the whole country, and next morning we
were assailed by a crowd of Imbozhwa on three sides: we had no
stockade, but the men built one as fast as the enemy allowed, cutting
down trees and carrying them to the line of defence, while others kept
the assailants at bay with their guns. Had it not been for the crowd
of Banyamwezi which we have, who shot vigorously with their arrows,
and occasionally chased the Imbozhwa, we should have been routed. I
did not go near the fighting, but remained in my house to defend my
luggage if necessary. The women went up and down the village with
sieves, as if winnowing, and singing songs, and lullilooing, to
encourage their husbands and friends who were fighting, each had a
branch of the Ficus indica in her hand, which she waved, I suppose as
a charm. About ten of the Imbozhwa are said to have been killed, but
dead and wounded were at once carried off by their countrymen. They
continued the assault from early dawn till 1 P.M., and showed great
bravery, but they wounded only two with their arrows. Their care to
secure the wounded was admirable: two or three at once seized the
fallen man, and ran off with him, though pursued by a great crowd of
Banyamwezi with spears, and fired at by the Suaheli--Victoria-cross
fellows truly many of them were! Those who had a bunch of animals'
tails, with medicine, tied to their waists, came sidling and ambling
up to near the unfinished stockade, and shot their arrows high up into
the air, to fall among the Wanyamwezi, then picked up any arrows on
the field, ran back, and returned again. They thought that by the
ambling gait they avoided the balls, and when these whistled past them
they put down their heads, as if to allow them to pass over; they had
never encountered guns before. We did not then know it, but Muabo,
Phuta, Ngurué, Sandaruko, and Chapi, were the assailants, for we found
it out by the losses each of these five chiefs sustained.

It was quite evident to me that the Suaheli Arabs were quite taken
aback by the attitude of the natives; they expected them to flee as
soon as they heard a gun fired in anger, but instead of this we were
very nearly being cut off, and should have been but for our Banyamwezi
allies. It is fortunate that the attacking party had no success in
trying to get Mpwéto and Karembwé to join them against us, or it would
have been more serious still.

_24th November, 1868._--The Imbozhwa, or Babemba rather, came early
this morning, and called on Mohamad to come out of his stockade if he
were a man who could fight, but the fence is now finished, and no one
seems willing to obey the taunting call: I have nothing to do with it,
but feel thankful that I was detained, and did not, with my few
attendants, fall into the hands of the justly infuriated Babemba. They
kept up the attack to-day, and some went out to them, fighting till
noon: when a man was killed and not carried off, the Wanyamwezi
brought his head and put it on a pole on the stockade--six heads were
thus placed. A fine young man was caught and brought in by the
Wanyamwezi, one stabbed him behind, another cut his forehead with an
axe, I called in vain to them not to kill him. As a last appeal, he
said to the crowd that surrounded him, "Don't kill me, and I shall
take you to where the women are." "You lie," said his enemies; "you
intend to take us where we may be shot by your friends;" and they
killed him. It was horrible: I protested loudly against any repetition
of this wickedness, and the more sensible agreed that prisoners ought
not to be killed, but the Banyamwezi are incensed against the Babemba
because of the women killed on the 22nd.

_25th November, 1868._--The Babemba kept off on the third day, and the
Arabs are thinking it will be a good thing if we get out of the
country unscathed. Men were sent off on the night of the 23rd to Syde
bin Habib for powder and help. Mohamad Bogharib is now unwilling to
take the onus of the war: he blames Mpamari, and Mpamari blames him; I
told Mohamad that the war was undoubtedly his work, inasmuch as Bin
Juma is his man, and he approved of his seizing the women.

He does not like this, but it is true; he would not have entered a
village of Casembe or Moamba or Chikumbi as he did Chapi's man's
village: the people here are simply men of more metal than he
imagined, and his folly in beginning a war in which, if possible, his
slaves will slip through his hands is apparent to all, even to
himself. Syde sent four barrels of gunpowder and ten men, who arrived
during last night.

_27th November, 1868._--Two of Muabo's men came over to bring on a
parley; one told us that he had been on the south side of the village
before, and heard one man say to another "mo pigé" (shoot him).
Mpamari gave them a long oration in exculpation, but it was only the
same everlasting, story of fugitive slaves. The slave-traders cannot
prevent them from escaping, and impudently think that the country
people ought to catch them, and thus be their humble servants, and
also the persecutors of their own countrymen! If they cannot keep
them, why buy them--why put their money into a bag with holes?

It is exactly what took place in America--slave-owners are bad
neighbours everywhere. Canada was threatened, England browbeaten, and
the Northerners all but kicked on the same score, and all as if
property in slaves had privileges which no other goods have. To hear
the Arabs say of the slaves after they are fled, "Oh, they are bad,
bad, very bad!" (and they entreated me too to free them from the
yoke), is, as the young ladies say, "too absurd." The chiefs also who
do not apprehend fugitives, they too are "bad."

I proposed to Mohamad Bogharib to send back the women seized by Bin
Juma, to show the Babemba that he disapproved of the act and was
willing to make peace, but this was too humiliating; I added that
their price as slaves was four barrels of gunpowder or 160 dollars,
while slaves lawfully bought would have cost him only eight or ten
yards of calico each. At the conclusion of Mpamari's speech the four
barrels of gunpowder were exhibited, and so was the Koran, to impress
them (Muabo's people) with an idea of their great power.

_28th and 29th November, 1868._--It is proposed to go and force our
way if we can to the north, but all feel that that would be a fine
opportunity for the slaves to escape, and they would not be loth to
embrace it; this makes it a serious matter, and the Koran is consulted
at hours which are auspicious.

_30th November, 1868._--Messengers sent to Muabo to ask a path, or in
plain words protection from him; Mpamari protests his innocence of the
whole affair.

_1st December, 1868._--Muabo's people over again; would fain send them
to make peace with Chapi!

_2nd December, 1868._--The detention is excessively vexatious to me.
Muabo sent three slaves as offers of peace--a fine self-imposed, but
he is on our south side, and we wish to go north.

_3rd December, 1868._--A party went to-day to clear the way to the
north, but were warmly received by Babemba with arrows; they came back
with one woman captured, and they say that they killed one man: one of
themselves is wounded, and many others in danger: others who went east
were shot at, and wounded too.

_4th December, 1868._--A party went east, and were fain to flee from
the Babemba, the same thing occurred on our west, and to-day _(5th)_
all were called to strengthen the stockade for fear that the enemy may
enter uninvited. The slaves would certainly flee, and small blame to
them though they did. Mpamari proposed to go off north by night, but
his people objected, as even a child crying would arouse the Babemba,
and reveal the flight, so finally he sent off to ask Syde what he
ought to do, whether to retire by day or by night; probably entreating
Syde to come and protect him.

A sort of idol is found in every village in this part, it is of wood,
and represents the features, markings and fashion of the hair of the
inhabitants: some have little huts built for them--others are in
common houses. The Babemba call them _Nkisi_ ("Sancan" of the Arabs):
the people of Rua name one _Kalubi_; the plural, _Tulubi_; and they
present pombe, flour, bhang, tobacco, and light a fire for them to
smoke by. They represent the departed father or mother, and it is
supposed that they are pleased with the offerings made to their
representatives, but all deny that they pray to them. Casembe has very
many of these Nkisi; one with long hair, and named _Motombo_, is
carried in front when he takes the field; names of dead chiefs are
sometimes given to them. I have not met with anyone intelligent enough
to explain if prayers are ever made to anyone; the Arabs who know
their language, say they have no prayers, and think that at death
there is an end of the whole man, but other things lead me to believe
this is erroneous. Slaves laugh at their countrymen, in imitation of
their masters, and will not reveal their real thoughts: one said that
they believed in two Superior Beings--Réza above, who kills people,
and Réza below, who carries them away after death.

_6th December, 1868._--Ten of Syde bin Habib's people came over,
bringing a letter, the contents of which neither Mpamari nor Mohamad
cares to reveal. Some think, with great probability, that he asks,
"Why did you begin a war if you wanted to leave so soon? Did you not
know that the country people would take advantage of your march,
encumbered as you will be by women and slaves?" Mohamad Bogharib
called me to ask what advice I could give him, as all his own advice,
and devices too, had been lost or were useless, and he did not know
what to do. The Banyamwezi threatened to go off by night and leave
him, as they are incensed against the Babemba, and offended because
the Arabs do not aid them in wreaking their vengeance upon them.

I took care not to give any advice, but said, if I had been or was in
his place, I would have sent or would send back Bin Juma's captives,
to show that I disapproved of his act--the first in the war--and was
willing to make peace with Chapi. He said that he did not know that
Bin Juma would capture these people; that Bin Juma had met some
natives with fish, and took ten by force, that the natives, in
revenge, caught three Banyamwezi slaves, and Bin Juma then gave one
slave to them as a fine, but Mohamad did not know of this affair
either. I am of opinion, however, that he was fully aware of both
matters, and Mpamari's caracoling showed that he knew it all, though
now he denies it.

Bin Juma is a long, thin, lanky Suaheli, six feet two high, with a
hooked nose and large lips: I told Mohamad that if he were to go with
us to Manyuema, the whole party would be cut off. He came here, bought
a slave-boy, and allowed him to escape; then browbeat Chapi's man
about him (and he says, three others); and caught ten in lieu of him,
of which Mohamad restored six: this was the origin of the war. Now
that we are in the middle of it, I must do as Mohamad does in going
off either by day or by night. It is unreasonable to ask my advice
now, but it is felt that they have very unjustifiably placed me in a
false position, and they fear that Syed Majid will impute blame to
them, meanwhile Syde bin Habib sent a private message to me to come
with his men to him, and leave this party.

I perceive that the plan now is to try and clear our way of Chapi, and
then march, but I am so thoroughly disgusted with this slave-war, that
I think of running the risk of attack by the country people, and go
off to-morrow without Mohamad Bogharib, though I like him much more
than I do Mpamari or Syde bin Habib. It is too glaring hypocrisy to go
to the Koran for guidance while the stolen women, girls, and fish, are
in Bin Juma's hands.

_8th and 9th December, 1868._--I had to wait for the Banyamwezi
preparing food: Mohamad has no authority over them, or indeed over
anyone else. Two Babemba men came in and said that they had given up
fighting, and begged for their wives, who had been captured by Syde's
people on their way here: this reasonable request was refused at
first, but better counsels prevailed, and they were willing to give
something to appease the anger of the enemy, and sent back six
captives, two of whom were the wives prayed for.

[At last he makes a start on the 11th of December with the Arabs, who
are bound eastwards for Ujiji. It is a motley group, composed of
Mohamad and his friends, a gang of Unyamwezi hangers-on, and strings
of wretched slaves yoked together in their heavy slave-sticks. Some
carry ivory, others copper, or food for the march, whilst hope and
fear, misery and villainy, may be read off on the various faces that
pass in line out of this country, like a serpent dragging its accursed
folds away from the victim it has paralysed with its fangs.]

       *       *       *       *       *

_11th December, 1868._--We marched four hours unmolested by the
natives, built a fence, and next day crossed the Lokinda River and its
feeder the Mookosi; here the people belonged to Chisabi, who had not
joined the other Babemba. We go between two ranges of tree-covered
mountains, which are continuations of those on each side of Moero.

_12th December, 1868._--The tiresome tale of slaves running away was
repeated again last night by two of Mpamari's making off, though in
the yoke, and they had been with him from boyhood. Not one
good-looking slave-woman is now left of Mohamad Bogharib's fresh
slaves; all the pretty ones obtain favour by their address, beg to be
unyoked, and then escape. Four hours brought us to many villages of
Chisabi and the camp of Syde bin Habib in the middle of a set-in rain,
which marred the demonstration at meeting with his relative Mpamari;
but the women braved it through, wet to the skin, and danced and
lullilooed with "draigled" petticoats with a zeal worthy of a better
cause, as the "penny-a-liners" say. It is the custom for the trader
who receives visitors to slaughter goats, and feed all his guests for
at least two days, nor was Syde wanting in this hospitality, though
the set-in rain continuing, we did not enjoy it as in fine weather.

_14th December, 1868._--Cotton-grass and brackens all over the country
show the great humidity of Marungu. Rain daily; but this is not the
great rain which falls when the sun comes back south over our heads.

_15th December, 1868._--March two hours only to the range of Tamba. A
pretty little light-grey owl, called "nkwékwé," was killed by a
native as food; a black ring round its face and its black ears gave it
all the appearance of a cat, whose habits it follows.

_16th to 18th December, 1868._--A brother of Syde bin Habib died last
night: I had made up my mind to leave the whole party, but Syde said
that Chisabi was not to be trusted, and the death of his brother
having happened, it would not be respectful to leave him to bury his
dead alone. Six of his slaves fled during the night--one, the keeper
of the others. A Mobemba man, who had been to the coast twice with
him, is said to have wished a woman who was in the chain, so he loosed
five out, and took her off; the others made clear heels of it, and now
that the grass is long and green, no one can trace their course.

Syde told me that the slaves would not have detained him, but his
brother's death did. We buried the youth, who has been ill three
months. Mpamari descended into the grave with four others; a broad
cloth was held over them horizontally, and a little fluctuation made,
as if to fan those who were depositing the body in the side excavation
made at the bottom: when they had finished they pulled in earth, and
all shoved it towards them till the grave was level. Mullam then came
and poured a little water into and over the grave, mumbled a few
prayers, at which Mpamari said aloud to me, "Mullam does not let his
voice be heard;" and Mullam smiled to me, as if to say, "Loud enough
for all I shall get:" during the ceremony the women were all wailing
loudly. We went to the usual sitting-place, and shook hands with Syde,
as if receiving him back again into the company of the living.

Syde told me previously to this event that he had fought the people
who killed his elder brother Salem bin Habib, and would continue to
fight them till all their country was spoiled and a desolation: there
is no forgiveness with Moslems for bloodshed. He killed many, and took
many slaves, ivory, and copper: his tusks number over 200, many of
large size.

_19th and 20th December, 1868._--To Chisabi's village stockade, on the
left bank of the Lofunso, which flows in a marshy valley three miles
broad. Eight of Mohamad Bogharib's slaves fled by night, one with his
gun and wife; a, large party went in search, but saw nothing of them.

To-day an elephant was killed, and they sent for the meat, but Chisabi
ordered the men to let his meat alone: experience at Kabwabwata said,
"Take the gentle course," so two fathoms of calico and two hoes were
sent to propitiate the chief; Chisabi then demanded half the meat and
one tusk: the meat was given, but the tusk was mildly refused: he is
but a youth, and this is only the act of his counsellors. It was
replied that Casembe, Chikumbi, Nsama, Meréré, made no demand at all:
his counsellors have probably heard of the Portuguese self-imposed
law, and wish to introduce it here, but both tusks were secured.

_22nd December, 1868._--We crossed the Lofunso River, wading three
branches, the first of forty-seven yards, then the river itself, fifty
yards, and neck deep to men and women of ordinary size. Two were swept
away and drowned; other two were rescued by men leaping in and saving
them, one of whom was my man Susi. A crocodile bit one person badly,
but was struck, and driven off. Two slaves escaped by night; a woman
loosed her husband's yoke from the tree, and got clear off.

_24th December, 1868._--Five sick people detain us to-day; some cannot
walk from feebleness and purging brought on by sleeping on the damp
ground without clothes.

Syde bin Habib reports a peculiar breed of goats in Rua, remarkably
short in the legs, so much so, that they cannot travel far; they give
much milk, and become very fat, but the meat is indifferent. Gold is
found at Katanga in the pool of a waterfall only: it probably comes
from the rocks above this. His account of the Lofu, or, as he says,
West Lualaba, is identical with that of his cousin, Syde bin Omar; it
flows north, but west of Lufira, into the Lake of Kinkonza, so named
after the chief. The East Lualaba becomes very large, often as much as
six or eight miles broad, with many inhabited islands, the people of
which, being safe from invasion, are consequently rapacious and
dishonest, and their chiefs, Moengé and Nyamakunda, are equally
lawless. A hunter, belonging to Syde, named Kabwebwa, gave much
information gleaned during his hunting trips; for instance, the Lufira
has nine feeders of large size; and one, the Lekulwé, has also nine
feeders; another, the Kisungu, is covered with, "tikatika," by which
the people cross it, though it bends under their weight; he also
ascribes the origin of the Lufira and the Lualaba West, or Lofu, with
the Liambai to one large earthen mound, which he calls "segulo," or an
anthill!

_25th December, 1868, Christmas Day._--We can buy nothing except the
very coarsest food--not a goat or fowl--while Syde, having plenty of
copper, can get all the luxuries. We marched past Mount Katanga,
leaving it on our left, to the River Kapéta, and slaughtered a
favourite kid to make a Christmas dinner. A trading-party came up from
Ujiji; they said that we were ten camps from Tanganyika. They gave an
erroneous report that a steamer with a boat in tow was on Lake
Chowambé--an English one, too, with plenty of cloth and beads on
board. A letter had come from Abdullah bin Salem, Moslem missionary at
Mtésa's, to Ujiji three months ago with this news.

_26th December, 1868._--We marched up an ascent 2-1/2 hours, and got
on to the top of one of the mountain ridges, which generally run N.
and S. Three hours along this level top brought us to the Kibawé
River, a roaring rivulet beside villages. There were no people on the
height over which we came, though the country is very fine--green and
gay with varying shades of that colour. We passed through patches of
brackens five feet high and gingers in flower, and were in a damp
cloud all day. Now and then a drizzle falls in these parts, but it
keeps all damp only, and does not show in the rain-gauge. Neither sun
nor stars appear.

_27th and 28th December, 1868._--Remain on Sunday, then march and
cross five rivulets about four yards wide and knee deep, going to the
Lofunso. The grass now begins to cover and hide the paths; its growth
is very rapid: blobs of water lie on the leaves all day, and keep the
feet constantly wet by falling as we pass.

_29th December, 1868._--We kept well on the ridge between two ranges
of hills; then went down, and found a partially-burned native
stockade, and lodged in it; the fires of the Ujiji party had set the
huts on fire after the party left. We are in the Itandé district at
the Nswiba River.

_30th December, 1868._--We now went due east, and made a good deal of
easting too from Mount Katanga on the Lofunso, and crossed the River
Lokivwa, twelve yards wide, and very deep, with villages all about. We
ascended much as we went east. Very high mountains appeared on the
N.W. The woods dark gieen, with large patches of a paler hue.

_31st December, 1868._--We reached the Lofuko yesterday in a pelting
rain; not knowing that the camp with huts was near, I stopped and put
on a bernouse, got wet, and had no dry clothes. Remain to-day to buy
food. Clouds cover all the sky from N.W. The river, thirty yards wide,
goes to Tanganyika east of this. Scenery very lovely.

FOOTNOTES:

[66] In 1827 Linant reached 13° 30' N. on the White Nile. In 1841 the
second Egyptian, under D'Arnauld and Sabatier, explored the river to
4° 42' N., and Jomard published his work on Limmoo and the River
Habaiah. Dr. Beke and Mr. D'Abbadie contributed their share to making
the Nile better known. Brun Rollet established a trading station in
1854 at Belema on the Nile at 5° N. lat.

[67] Miss Tinné succumbed to the dangers of African travelling before
Livingstone penned these just words of appreciation.

[68] Ezek. xxiv. 5.

END OF VOL. I.