Transcriber’s Notes

  Text printed in italics has been transcribed _between underscores_,
  bold face text =between equal signs=. Small capitals have been changed
  to ALL CAPITALS. Superscript text is represented by ^{text}.

  More Transcriber’s Notes may be found at the end of this text.




  THE
  LAKE REGIONS OF CENTRAL AFRICA

  VOL II.




  LONDON
  PRINTED BY SPOTTISWOODE AND CO.
  NEW-STREET SQUARE

[Illustration: NAVIGATION OF THE TANGANYIKA LAKE.]




  THE
  LAKE REGIONS OF CENTRAL AFRICA

  A PICTURE OF EXPLORATION

  BY

  RICHARD F. BURTON
  Capt. H. M. I. Army: Fellow and Gold Medallist of the Royal
  Geographical Society

  “_Some to discover islands far away_”--_Shakspere_

  IN TWO VOLUMES

  VOL. II.

  LONDON LONGMAN, GREEN, LONGMAN, AND ROBERTS 1860

  _The right of translation is reserved_




  CONTENTS
  OF
  THE SECOND VOLUME.


                                                                    Page

  CHAPTER XII.
  The Geography and Ethnology of Unyamwezi.--The Fourth Region         1

  CHAP. XIII.
  At length we sight the Lake Tanganyika, the “Sea of Ujiji.”         34

  CHAP. XIV.
  We explore the Tanganyika Lake                                      80

  CHAP. XV.
  The Tanganyika Lake and its Periplus                               134

  CHAP. XVI.
  We return to Unyanyembe                                            155

  CHAP. XVII.
  The Down-march to the Coast                                        223

  CHAP. XVIII.
  Village Life in East Africa                                        278

  CHAP. XIX.
  The Character and Religion of the East Africans; their Government,
  and Slavery                                                        324

  Conclusion                                                         379

  APPENDICES.
  APPENDIX I.: Commerce, Imports, and Exports                        387
  APPENDIX II.: Official Correspondence                              420




  LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
  IN
  THE SECOND VOLUME.


  CHROMOXYLOGRAPHS.

  Navigation of the Tanganyika Lake                      _Frontispiece._
  View in Usagara                                     _to face page_   1
  Snay bin Amir’s House                                      „       155
  Saydumi, a native of Uganda                                „       223
  The Basin of Maroro                                        „       255
  The Basin of Kisanga                                       „       278
  Map of the Routes between Zanzibar and the Great Lakes in Eastern
  Africa in 1857, 1858 & 1859, by R. F. Burton


  WOODCUTS.

  Iwanza, or public-houses; with Looms to the left                     1
  My Tembe near the Tangangika                                        34
  Head Dresses of Wanyamwezi                                          80
  African heads, and Ferry-boat                                      134
  Portraits of Muinyi Kidogo, the Kirangozi, the Mganga, &c.         155
  Mgongo Thembo, or the Elephant’s Back                              223
  Jiwe la Mkoa, the Round Rock                                       242
  Rufita Pass in Usagara                                             259
  The Ivory Porter, the Cloth Porter, and Woman in Usagara           278
  Gourd, Stool, Bellows, Guitar, and Drum                            292
  Gourds                                                             313
  A Mnyamwezi and a Mheha                                            324
  The Bull-headed Mabruki, and the African standing position         378
  The Elephant Rock                                                  384

[Illustration: VIEW IN USAGARA.]




  THE
  LAKE REGIONS OF CENTRAL AFRICA.

[Illustration: A village interior in the Land of the Moon.

Utanta or loom.

Iwanza, or public houses.]




CHAPTER XII.

THE GEOGRAPHY AND ETHNOLOGY OF UNYAMWEZI.--THE FOURTH REGION.


The fourth division is a hilly table-land, extending from the western
skirts of the desert Mgunda Mk’hali, in E. long. 33° 57′, to the eastern
banks of the Malagarazi River, in E. long. 31° 10′: it thus stretches
diagonally over 155 rectilinear geographical miles. Bounded on the north
by Usui and the Nyanza Lake, to the south-eastwards by Ugala, southwards
by Ukimbu, and south-westwards by Uwende, it has a depth of from
twenty-five to thirty marches. Native caravans, if lightly laden, can
accomplish it in twenty-five days, including four halts. The maximum
altitude observed by B. P. therm. was 4050 feet, the minimum 2850. This
region contains the two great divisions of Unyamwezi and Uvinza.

The name of Unyamwezi was first heard by the Portuguese, according to
Giovanni Botero, towards the end of the sixteenth century, or about
1589. Pigafetta, who, in 1591, systematised the discoveries of the
earlier Portuguese, placed the empire of “Monemugi” or Munimigi in a
vast triangular area, whose limits were Monomotapa, Congo, and
Abyssinia: from his pages it appears that the people of this central
kingdom were closely connected by commerce with the towns on the eastern
coast of Africa. According to Dapper, the Dutch historian, (1671,) whose
work has been the great mine of information to subsequent writers upon
Africa south of the equator, about sixty days’ journey from the Atlantic
is the kingdom of Monemugi, which others call “Nimeamaye,” a name still
retained under the corrupted form “Nimeaye” in our atlases. M.
Malte-Brun, senior, mentioning Mounemugi, adds, “ou, selon une
autographe plus authentique, _Mou-nimougi_.” All the Portuguese authors
call the people Monemugi or Mono-emugi; Mr. Cooley prefers Monomoezi,
which he derives from “Munha Munge,” or “lord of the world,” the title
of a great African king in the interior, commemorated by the historian
De Barros. Mr. Macqueen (‘Geography of Central Africa’), who also gives
Manmoise, declares that “Mueno-muge, Mueno-muize, Monomoise, and
Uniamese,” relate to the same place and people, comprehending a large
extent of country in the interior of Africa: he explains the word
erroneously to mean the “great Moises or Movisas.” The Rev. Mr. Erhardt
asserts that for facility of pronunciation the coast merchants have
turned the name “Wanamesi” into “Waniamesi,” which also leads his
readers into error. The Rev. Mr. Livingstone thus endorses the mistake
of Messrs. Macqueen and Erhardt: “The names Monomoizes, spelt also
Monemuigis and Monomuizes, and Monomotapistas, when applied to the
tribes, are exactly the same as if we should call the Scotch the Lord
Douglases.... Monomoizes was formed from Moiza or Muiza, the singular of
the word Babisa or Aiza, the proper name of a large tribe to the north.”
In these sentences there is a confusion between the lands of the
Wanyamwezi, lying under the parallel of the Tanganyika Lake, and the
Wabisa (in the singular Mbísá, the Wavisa of the Rev. Mr. Rebmann), a
well-known commercial tribe dwelling about the Maravi or Nyassa Lake,
S.W. of Kilwa, whose name in times of old was corrupted by the
Portuguese to Movizas or Movisas. Finally M. Guillain, in a work already
alluded to, states correctly the name of the people to be Oua-nyamouczi,
but in designating the country “pays de Nyamouezi,” he shows little
knowledge of the Zangian dialects. M. V. A. Malte-Brun, junior
(‘Bulletin de Géographie,’ Paris, 1856, Part II. p. 295) correctly
writes Wanyamwezi.

A name so discrepantly corrupted deserves some notice. Unyamwezi is
translated by Dr. Krapf and the Rev. Mr. Rebmann, “Possessions of the
Moon.” The initial U, the causal and locative prefix, denotes the land,
nya, of, and mwezi, articulated m’ezí with semi-elision of the w, means
the moon. The people sometimes pronounce their country name Unyamiezi,
which would be a plural form, miezi signifying moons or months. The
Arabs and the people of Zanzibar, for facility and rapidity of
pronunciation, dispense with the initial dissyllable, and call the
country and its race Mwezi. The correct designation of the inhabitants
of Unyamwezi is, therefore, Mnyamwezi in the singular, and Wanyamwezi in
the plural: Kinyamwezi is the adjectival form. It is not a little
curious that the Greeks should have placed their της σεληνης ορος--the
mountain of the moon--and the Hindus their Soma Giri (an expression
probably translated from the former), in the vicinity of the African
“Land of the Moon.” It is impossible to investigate the antiquity of the
vernacular term; all that can be discovered is, that nearly 350 years
ago the Portuguese explorers of Western Africa heard the country
designated by its present name.

There is the evidence of barbarous tradition for a belief in the
existence of Unyamwezi as a great empire, united under a single despot.
The elders declare that their patriarchal ancestor became after death
the first tree, and afforded shade to his children and descendants.
According to the Arabs the people still perform pilgrimage to a holy
tree, and believe that the penalty of sacrilege in cutting off a twig
would be visited by sudden and mysterious death. All agree in relating
that during the olden time Unyamwezi was united under a single
sovereign, whose tribe was the Wakalaganza, still inhabiting the western
district, Usagozi. According to the people, whose greatest chronical
measure is a Masika, or rainy season, in the days of the grandfathers of
their grandfathers the last of the Wanyamwezi emperors died. His
children and nobles divided and dismembered his dominions, further
partitions ensued, and finally the old empire fell into the hands of a
rabble of petty chiefs. Their wild computation would point to an epoch
of 150 years ago--a date by no means improbable.

These glimmerings of light thrown by African tradition illustrate the
accounts given by the early Portuguese concerning the extent and the
civilisation of the Unyamwezi empire. Moreover, African travellers in
the seventeenth century concur in asserting that, between 250 and 300
years ago, there was an outpouring of the barbarians from the heart of
Æthiopia and from the shores of the Central Lake towards the eastern and
southern coasts of the peninsula, a general waving and wandering of
tribes which caused great ethnological and geographical confusion,
public demoralisation, dismemberment of races, and change, confusion,
and corruption of tongues. About this period it is supposed the kingdom
of Mtándá, the first Kazembe, was established. The Kafirs of the Cape
also date their migration from the northern regions to the banks of the
Kei about a century and a half ago.

In these days Unyamwezi has returned to the political status of Eastern
Africa in the time of the Periplus. It is broken up into petty
divisions, each ruled by its own tyrant; his authority never extends
beyond five marches; moreover, the minor chiefs of the different
districts are virtually independent of their suzerains. One language is
spoken throughout the land of the Moon, but the dialectic differences
are such that the tribes in the east with difficulty understand their
brethren in the west. The principal provinces are--Utakama to the
extreme north, Usukuma on the south,--in Kinyamwezi sukuma means the
north, takama the south, kiya the east, and mwere the west,--Unyanyembe
in the centre, Ufyoma and Utumbara in the north-west, Unyangwira in the
south-east, Usagozi and Usumbwá to the westward. The three normal
divisions of the people are into Wanyamwezi, Wasukuma or northern, and
Watakama or southern.

The general character of Unyamwezi is rolling ground, intersected with
low conical and tabular hills, whose lines ramify in all directions. No
mountain is found in the country. The superjacent stratum is clay,
overlying the sandstone based upon various granites, which in some
places crop out, picturesquely disposed in blocks and boulders and huge
domes and lumpy masses; ironstone is met with at a depth varying from
five to twelve feet, and at Kazeh, the Arab settlement in Unyanyembe,
bits of coarse ore were found by digging not more than four feet in a
chance spot. During the rains a coat of many-tinted greens conceals the
soil; in the dry season the land is grey, lighted up by golden stubbles
and dotted with wind-distorted trees, shallow swamps of emerald grass,
and wide sheets of dark mud. Dwarfed stumps and charred “black-jacks”
deform the fields, which are sometimes ditched or hedged in, whilst a
thin forest of parachute-shaped thorns diversifies the waves of rolling
land and earth-hills spotted with sun-burnt stone. The reclaimed tracts
and clearings are divided from one another by strips of primæval jungle,
varying from two to twelve miles in length. As in most parts of Eastern
Africa, the country is dotted with “fairy mounts”--dwarf mounds, the
ancient sites of trees now crumbled to dust, and the débris of insect
architecture; they appear to be rich ground, as they are always
diligently cultivated. The yield of the soil, according to the Arabs,
averages sixty-fold, even in unfavourable seasons.

The Land of the Moon, which is the garden of Central Intertropical
Africa, presents an aspect of peaceful rural beauty which soothes the
eye like a medicine after the red glare of barren Ugogo, and the dark
monotonous verdure of the western provinces. The inhabitants are
comparatively numerous in the villages, which rise at short intervals
above their impervious walls of the lustrous green milk-bush, with its
coral-shaped arms, variegating the well-hoed plains; whilst in the
pasture-lands frequent herds of many-coloured cattle, plump,
round-barrelled, and high-humped, like the Indian breeds, and mingled
flocks of goats and sheep dispersed over the landscape, suggest ideas of
barbarous comfort and plenty. There are few scenes more soft and
soothing than a view of Unyamwezi in the balmy evenings of spring. As
the large yellow sun nears the horizon, a deep stillness falls upon
earth: even the zephyr seems to lose the power of rustling the lightest
leaf. The milky haze of midday disappears from the firmament, the flush
of departing day mantles the distant features of scenery with a lovely
rose-tint, and the twilight is an orange glow that burns like distant
horizontal fires, passing upwards through an imperceptibly graduated
scale of colours--saffron, yellow, tender green, and the lightest
azure--into the dark blue of the infinite space above. The charm of the
hour seems to affect even the unimaginative Africans, as they sit in the
central spaces of their villages, or, stretched under the forest-trees,
gaze upon the glories around.

In Unyamwezi water generally lies upon the surface, during the rains, in
broad shallow pools, which become favourite sites for rice-fields. These
little ziwa and mbuga--ponds and marshes--vary from two to five feet
below the level of the land; in the dry season they are betrayed from
afar by a green line of livelier vegetation streaking the dead tawny
plain. The Arabs seldom dig their wells deeper than six feet, and they
complain of the want of “live-water” gushing from the rocky ground, as
in their native Oman. The country contains few springs, and the surface
of retentive clay prevents the moisture penetrating to the subsoil. The
peculiarity of the produce is its decided chalybeate flavour. The
versant of the country varies. The eastern third, falling to the
south-east, discharges its surplus supplies through the Rwaha river into
the Indian Ocean; in the centre, water seems to stagnate; and in the
western third, the flow, turning to the north and north-west, is carried
by the Gombe nullah--a string of pools during the dry season, and a
rapid unfordable stream during the rains--into the great Malagarazi
river, the principal eastern influent of the Tanganyika Lake. The levels
of the country and the direction of the waters combine to prove that the
great depression of Central Africa, alluded to in the preceding chapter,
commences in the district of Kigwa in Unyamwezi.

The climate of the island and coast of Zanzibar has, it must be
remembered, double seasons, which are exceedingly confused and
irregular. The lands of Unyamwezi and Uvinza, on the other hand, are as
remarkable for simplicity of division. There eight seasons disturb the
idea of year; here but two--a summer and a winter. Central Africa has,
as the Spaniards say of the Philippine Isles,

  “Seis mezes de polvo,
   Seis mezes de lodo.”

In 1857 the Masika, or rains, commenced throughout Eastern Unyamwezi on
the 14th of November. In the northern and western provinces the wet
monsoon begins earlier and lasts longer. At Msene it precedes Unyanyembe
about a month; in Ujiji, Karagwah, and Uganda, nearly two months. Thus
the latter countries have a rainy season which lasts from the middle of
September till the middle of May.

The moisture-bearing wind in this part of Africa is the fixed south-east
trade, deflected, as in the great valley of the Mississippi and in the
island of Ceylon, into a periodical south-west monsoon. As will appear
in these pages, the downfalls begin earlier in Central Africa than upon
the eastern coast, and from the latter point they travel by slow
degrees, with the northing sun, to the north-east, till they find a
grave upon the rocky slopes of the Himalayas.

The rainy monsoon is here ushered in, accompanied, and terminated by
storms of thunder and lightning, and occasional hail-falls. The blinding
flashes of white, yellow, or rose colour play over the firmament
uninterruptedly for hours, during which no darkness is visible. In the
lighter storms thirty and thirty-five flashes may be counted in a
minute: so vivid is the glare that it discloses the finest shades of
colour, and appears followed by a thick and palpable gloom, such as
would hang before a blind man’s eyes, whilst a deafening roar
simultaneously following the flash, seems to travel, as it were, to and
fro overhead. Several claps sometimes sound almost at the same moment,
and as if coming from different directions. The same storm will, after
the most violent of its discharges, pass over, and be immediately
followed by a second, showing the superabundance of electricity in the
atmosphere. When hail is about to fall, a rushing noise is heard in the
air, with sudden coolness and a strange darkness from the canopy of
brownish purple clouds. The winds are exceedingly variable: perhaps they
are most often from the east and north-east during summer, from the
north-west and south-west in the rains; but they are answered from all
quarters of the heavens, and the most violent storms sail up against the
lower atmospheric currents. The Portuguese of the Mozambique attribute
these terrible discharges of electricity to the quantity of mineral
substances scattered about the country; but a steaming land like Eastern
Africa wants, during the rains, no stronger battery. In the rainy season
the sensation is that experienced during the equinoctial gales in the
Mediterranean, where the scirocco diffuses everywhere discomfort and
disease. The fall is not, as in Western India, a steady downpour,
lasting sometimes two or three days without a break. In Central Africa,
rain seldom endures beyond twelve hours, and it often assumes for weeks
an appearance of regularity, re-occurring at a certain time. Night is
its normal season; the mornings are often wet, and the torrid midday is
generally dry. As in Southern Africa, a considerable decrease of
temperature is the consequence of long-continued rain. Westward of
Unyanyembe, hail-storms, during the rainy monsoon, are frequent and
violent; according to the Arabs, the stones sometimes rival pigeons’
eggs in size. Throughout this monsoon the sun burns with sickly
depressing rays, which make earth reek like a garment hung out to dry.
Yet this is not considered the unhealthy period: the inundation is too
deep, and evaporation is yet unable to extract sufficient poison from
decay.

As in India and the southern regions of Africa, the deadly season
follows the wet monsoon from the middle of May to the end of June. The
kosi or south-west wind gives place to the kaskazi, or north-east,
about April, a little later than at Zanzibar. The cold gales and the
fervid suns then affect the outspread waters; the rivers, having swollen
during the weeks of violent downfall that usher in the end of the rains,
begin to shrink, and miry morasses and swamps of black vegetable mud
line the low-lands whose central depths are still under water. The
winds, cooled by excessive evaporation and set in motion by the heat,
howl over the country by night and day, dispersing through the
population colds and catarrhs, agues and rheumatisms, dysenteries and
deadly fevers. It must, however, be remarked that many cases which in
India and Sindh would be despaired of, survived in Eastern Africa.

The hot season, or summer, lasting from the end of June till nearly the
middle of November, forms the complement of the year. The air now
becomes healthy and temperate; the cold, raw winds rarely blow, and the
people recover from their transition diseases. At long intervals, during
these months, but a few grateful and refreshing showers, accompanied by
low thunderings, cool the air and give life to the earth. These
phenomena are expected after the change of the moon, and not, as in
Zanzibar, during her last quarter. The Arabs declare that here, as in
the island, rain sometimes falls from a clear sky--a phenomenon not
unknown to African travellers. The drought affects the country severely,
a curious exception to the rule in the zone of perpetual rain; and after
August whirlwinds of dust become frequent. At this time the climate is
most agreeable to the senses; even in the hottest nights a blanket is
welcome, especially about dawn, and it is possible to dine at 3 or 4
P.M., when in India the exertion would be impracticable. During the day
a ring-cloud, or a screen of vapour, almost invariably tempers the
solar rays; at night a halo, or a corona, generally encircles the moon.
The clouds are chiefly cumulus, cumulo-stratus, and nimbus; the sky is
often overcast with large white masses floating, apparently without
motion, upon the milky haze, and in the serenest weather a few threads
are seen pencilled upon the expanse above. Sunrise is seldom thoroughly
clear, and, when so, the clouds, sublimed in other regions and brought
up by the rising winds, begin to gather in the forenoon. They are
melted, as it were, by the fervent heat of the sun between noon and 3
P.M., at which time also the breezes fall light. Thick mists collect
about sunset, and by night the skies are seldom free from clouds. The
want of heat to dilate the atmosphere at this season, and the
light-absorbing vegetation which clothes the land, causes a peculiar
dimness in the Galaxy and “Magellan’s Clouds.” The twilight also is
short, and the zodiacal light is not observed. The suffocating sensation
of the tropics is unknown, and at noon in the month of September--the
midsummer of this region--the thermometer, defended from the wind, in a
single-fold Arab tent, never exceeded 113° Fahr. Except during the
rains, the dews are not heavy, as in Zanzibar, in the alluvial valleys,
and in Usagara and Ujiji: the people do not fear exposure to them,
though, as in parts of France, they consider dew-wetted grass
unwholesome for cattle. The Arabs stand bathing in the occasional
torrents of rain without the least apprehension. The temperature varies
too little for the European constitution, which requires a winter. The
people, however, scarcely care to clothe themselves. The flies and
mosquitoes--those pests of most African countries--are here a minor
annoyance.

The principal cause of disease during the summer of Unyamwezi is the
east wind, which, refrigerated by the damp alluvial valleys of the first
region and the tree-clad peaks and swampy plains of Usagara, sweeps the
country, like the tramontanas of Italy, with a freezing cold in the
midst of an atmosphere properly tepid. These unnatural combinations of
extremes, causing sudden chills when the skin perspires, bring on
inevitable disease; strangers often suffer severely, and the influenza
is as much feared in Unyamwezi as in England. The east wind is even more
dangerous in the hut than in the field: draughts from the four quarters
play upon the patient, making one side of the body tremble with cold,
whilst the other, defended by the wall or heated by the fire, burns with
fever-glow. The gales are most violent immediately after the cessation
of the rains; about the beginning of August they become warmer and fall
light. At this time frequent whirlwinds sweep from the sun-parched land
clouds of a fine and penetrating clay-dust; and slight shocks of
earthquakes are by no means uncommon. Three were observed by the
Expedition--at noon on the 14th of June, 1858; on the morning of the
13th of June; and at 5 P.M. on the 22nd of November, 1858. The motion,
though mild, was distinctly perceptible; unfortunately, means of
ascertaining the direction were wanted. The people of the country call
this phenomenon “Tetemeka,” or the trembling; and the Arabs remember a
shock of a serious nature which took place at Unyanyembe in the hot
season of 1852. After September, though the land is parched with
drought, the trees begin to put forth their leaves; it is the coupling
season of beasts, and the period of nidification and incubation for
birds. The gradual lowering of the temperature, caused by the southern
declination of the sun, acts like the genial warmth of an English
spring. As all sudden changes from siccity to humidity are prejudicial
to man, there is invariably severe disease at the end of the summer,
when the rains set in.

Travellers from Unyamwezi homeward returned often represent that country
to be the healthiest in Eastern and Central Africa: they quote, as a
proof, the keenness of their appetites and the quantity of food which
they consume. The older residents, however, modify their opinions: they
declare that digestion does not wait upon appetite; and that, as in
Egypt, Mazanderan, Malabar, and other hot-damp countries, no man long
retains rude health. The sequelæ of their maladies are always severe;
few care to use remedies, deeming them inefficacious against morbific
influences to them unknown; convalescence is protracted, painful, and
uncertain, and at length they are compelled to lead the lives of
confirmed invalids. The gifts of the climate, lassitude and indolence,
according to them, predispose to corpulence; and the regular warmth
induces baldness, and thins the beard, thus assimilating strangers in
body as in mind to the aborigines. They are unanimous in quoting a
curious effect of climate, which they attribute to a corruption of the
“humours and juices of the body.” Men who, after a lengthened sojourn in
these regions return to Oman, throw away the surplus provisions brought
from the African coast, burn their clothes and bedding, and for the
first two or three months eschew society; a peculiar effluvium rendering
them, it is said, offensive to the finer olfactories of their
compatriots.

The Mukunguru of Unyamwezi is perhaps the severest seasoning fever in
this part of Africa. It is a bilious remittent, which normally lasts
three days; it wonderfully reduces the patient in that short period, and
in severe cases the quotidian is followed by a long attack of a tertian
type. The consequences are severe and lasting even in men of the
strongest nervous diathesis; burning and painful eyes, hot palms and
soles, a recurrence of shivering and flushing fits, with the extremities
now icy cold, then painfully hot and swollen, indigestion, insomnolency,
cutaneous eruptions and fever sores, languor, dejection, and all the
inconveniences resulting from torpidity of liver, or from an inordinate
secretion of bile, betray the poison deep-lurking in the system. In some
cases this fever works speedily; some even, becoming at once delirious,
die on the first or the second day, and there is invariably an
exacerbation of symptoms before the bilious remittent passes away.

The fauna of Unyamwezi are similar to those described in Usagara and
Ugogo. In the jungles quadrumana are numerous; lions and leopards,
cynhyænas and wild cats haunt the forests; the elephant and the
rhinoceros, the giraffe and the Cape buffalo, the zebra, the quagga (?),
and the koodoo wander over the plains; and the hippopotamus and
crocodile are found in every large pool. The nyanyi or cynocephalus in
the jungles of Usukuma attains the size of a greyhound; according to the
people, there are three varieties of colour--red, black, and yellow.
They are the terror of the neighbouring districts: women never dare to
approach their haunts; they set the leopard at defiance, and, when in a
large body, they do not, it is said, fear the lion. The Colobus guereza,
or tippet monkey, the “polume” of Dr. Livingstone (ch. xvi.), here
called mbega, is admired on account of its polished black skin and
snowy-white mane. It is a cleanly animal, ever occupied in polishing
its beautiful garb, which, according to the Arabs, it tears to pieces
when wounded, lest the hunter should profit by it. The mbega lives in
trees, seldom descending, and feeds upon the fruit and the young leaves.
The Arabs speak of wild dogs in the vicinity of Unyanyembe, describing
them as being about eighteen inches in height, with rufous-black and
shaggy coats, and long thick tails; they are gregarious, running in
packs of from 20 to 200; they attack indiscriminately man and the
largest animals, and their only cry is a howl. About the time of our
autumn the pools are visited by various kinds of aquatic birds, widgeon,
plump little teal, fine snipe, curlew, and crane; the ardea, or white
“paddy-bird” of India, and the “lily-trotter” (Parra Africana), are
scattered over the country; and sometimes, though rarely, the chenalopex
or common Egyptian-goose and the gorgeous-crowned crane (Balearica
pavonina), the latter a favourite dish with the Arabs, appear. In
several parts of Unyamwezi, especially in the north, there is a large
and well-flavoured species of black-backed goose (Sakidornis melanota):
the common wild duck of England was not seen. Several specimens of the
Buceros, the secretary-bird (Serpentarius reptilivorus), and large
vultures, probably the condor of the Cape, were observed in Unyamwezi;
the people do not molest them, holding the flesh to be carrion. The
Cuculus indicator, called in Kisawahili “tongoe,” is common; but, its
honey being mostly hived, it does not attract attention. Grillivori, and
a species of thrush, about the size of common larks, with sulphur-yellow
patches under the eyes, and two naked black striæ beneath the throat,
are here migratory birds; they do good service to the agriculturist
against the locust. A variety of the Loxia or grossbill constructs
nests sometimes in bunches hanging from the lower branches of the trees.
The mtiko, a kind of water-wagtail (Motacilla), ventures into the huts
with the audacity of a London sparrow, and the Africans have a prejudice
against killing it. Swallows and martins of various kinds, some
peculiarly graceful and slender, may be seen migrating at the approach
of winter in regular travelling order: of these, one variety resembles
the English bird. The Africans declare that a single species of hirundo,
probably the sand-martin, builds in the precipitous earth-banks of the
nullahs: their nests were not seen, however, as in Southern Africa,
under the eaves of houses. There are a few ostriches, hawks, ravens,
plovers, nightjars (Caprimulgidæ), red and blue jays of brilliant plume,
muscicapæ, blackcaps or mock nightingales (Motacilla atrocapilla?),
passerines of various kinds, hoopoes, bulbuls, wrens, larks, and
bats. We saw but few poisonous animals. Besides the dendrophis, the
only ophidia killed in the country were snakes, with slate-coloured
backs, and silver bellies, resembling the harmless “mas” or
“hanash” of Somaliland, the Psammophis sibilaris (L.); C. moniliger
Lacépède,--according to Mr. Blyth (“Journal of the As. Soc. of Bengal,”
vol. xxiv., p. 306), who declares it to be not venomous--they abound in
the houses and destroy the rats. The people speak of a yellow and
brown-coated snake, eight feet long by five or six inches in diameter;
it is probably a boa or rock-snake. Chúrá or frogs are numerous in the
swamps, where the frog-concerts resemble those of the New World; and in
the regions about the Tanganyika Lake a large variety makes night
hideous with its croakings. Of the ranæ there are many species. The
largest is probably the “matmalelo” of S. Africa; it is eaten by the
Wagogo and other tribes. A smaller kind is of dark colour, and with long
legs, which enable it to hop great distances. A third is of a dirty
yellow, with brownish speckles. There is also a little green tree-frog,
which adheres to the broad and almost perpendicular leaves of the
thicker grasses. The leech is found in the lakes and rivers of the
interior, as well as in Zanzibar and on both coasts of Africa; according
to the Arabs they are of two kinds, large and small. The people neither
take precautions against them when drinking at the streams, as the Somal
do, nor are they aware of any officinal use for the animals; moreover,
it is impossible to persuade a Msawahili to collect them: they are of
P’hepo or fiendish nature, and never fail to haunt and harm their
captor. Jongo, or huge millepedes, some attaining a length of half a
foot, with shiny black bodies and red feet, are found in the fields and
forests, especially during the rains: covered with epizoa, these animals
present a disgusting appearance, and they seem, to judge from their
spoils, to die off during the hot weather. At certain seasons there is a
great variety of the papilionaceous family in the vicinity of waters
where libellulæ or dragon-flies also abound. The country is visited at
irregular times by flights of locusts, here called nzige. In spring the
plants are covered in parts with the p’hánzí, a large pink and green
variety, and the destructive species depicted and described by Salt:
they rise from the earth like a glowing rose-coloured cloud, and die off
about the beginning of the rains. The black leather-like variety, called
by the Arabs “Satan’s ass,” is not uncommon: it is eaten by the
Africans, as are many other edibles upon which strangers look with
disgust. The Arabs describe a fly which infests the forest-patches of
Unyamwezi: it is about the size of a small wasp, and is so fatal that
cattle attacked by it are at once killed and eaten before they become
carrion from its venomous effects. In parts the country is dotted with
ant-hills, which, when old, become hard as sandstone: they are generally
built by the termite under some shady tree, which prevents too rapid
drying, and apparently the people have not learned, like their brethren
in South Africa, to use them as ovens.

From Tura westward to Unyanyembe, the central district of Unyamwezi,
caravans usually number seven marches, making a total of 60 rectilinear
geographical miles. As far as Kigwa there is but one line of route; from
that point travelling parties diverge far and wide, like ships making
their different courses.

The races requiring notice in this region are two, the Wakimbu and the
Wanyamwezi.

The Wakimbu, who are emigrants into Unyamwezi, claim a noble origin, and
derive themselves from the broad lands running south of Unyanyembe as
far westward as K’hokoro. About twenty masika, wet monsoons, or years
ago, according to themselves, in company with their neighbours, the
Wakonongo and the Wamia, they left Nguru, Usanga, and Usenga, in
consequence of the repeated attacks of the Warori, and migrated to
Kipiri, the district lying south of Tura; they have now extended into
Mgunda Mk’hali and Unyanyembe, where they hold the land by permission of
the Wanyamwezi. In these regions there are few obstacles to immigrants.
They visit the Sultan, make a small present, obtain permission to
settle, and name the village after their own chief; but the original
proprietors still maintain their rights to the soil. The Wakimbu build
firmly stockaded villages, tend cattle, and cultivate sorghum and
maize, millet and pulse, cucumbers, and water-melons. Apparently they
are poor, being generally clad in skins. They barter slaves and ivory in
small quantities to the merchants, and some travel to the coast. They
are considered treacherous by their neighbours, and Mapokera, the Sultan
of Tura, is, according to the Arabs, prone to commit “_avanies_.” They
are known by a number of small lines formed by raising the skin with a
needle, and opening it by points literally between the hair of the
temples and the eyebrows. In appearance they are dark and uncomely;
their arms are bows and arrows, spears and knives stuck in the leathern
waistbelt; some wear necklaces of curiously plaited straw, others a
strip of white cowskin bound around the brow--a truly savage and African
decoration. Their language differs from Kinyamwezi.

The Wanyamwezi tribe, the proprietors of the soil, is the typical race
in this portion of Central Africa: its comparative industry and
commercial activity have secured to it a superiority over the other
kindred races.

The aspect of the Wanyamwezi is alone sufficient to disprove the
existence of very elevated lands in this part of the African interior.
They are usually of a dark sepia-brown, rarely coloured like diluted
Indian ink, as are the Wahiao and slave races to the south, with negroid
features markedly less Semitic than the people of the eastern coast. The
effluvium from their skins, especially after exercise or excitement,
marks their connection with the negro. The hair curls crisply, but it
grows to the length of four or five inches before it splits; it is
usually twisted into many little ringlets or hanks; it hangs down like a
fringe to the neck, and is combed off the forehead after the manner of
the ancient Egyptians and the modern Hottentots. The beard is thin and
short, there are no whiskers, and the moustachio--when not plucked
out--is scant and straggling. Most of the men and almost all the women
remove the eyelashes, and pilar hair rarely appears to grow. The normal
figure of the race is tall and stout, and the women are remarkable for
the elongation of the mammary organs. Few have small waists, and the
only lean men in the land are the youths, the sick, and the famished.
This race is said to be long-lived, and it is not deficient in bodily
strength and savage courage. The clan-mark is a double line of little
cuts, like the marks of cupping, made by a friend with a knife or razor,
along the temporal fossæ from the external edges of the eyebrows to the
middle of the cheeks or to the lower jaws. Sometimes a third line, or a
band of three small lines, is drawn down the forehead to the bridge of
the nose. The men prefer a black, charcoal being the substance generally
used, the women a blue colour, and the latter sometimes ornament their
faces with little perpendicular scars below the eyes. They do not file
the teeth into a saw-shape as seen amongst the southern races, but they
generally form an inner triangular or wedge-shaped aperture by chipping
away the internal corners of the two front incisors like the Damaras,
and the women extract the lower central teeth. Both sexes enlarge the
lobes of the ears. In many parts of the country skins are more commonly
worn than cloth, except by the Sultans and the wealthier classes. The
women wear the long tobe of the coast, tightly wrapped round either
above or more commonly below the breast; the poorer classes veil the
bosom with a square or softened skin; the remainder of the dress is a
kilt or short petticoat of the same material extending from waist to
knee. Maidens never cover the breast, and children are rarely clothed;
the infant, as usual in East Africa, is carried in a skin fastened by
thongs behind the parent’s back. The favourite ornaments are beads, of
which the red coral, the pink, and the “pigeon-eggs” made at Nuremberg
are preferred. From the neck depend strings of beads with kiwangwa,
disks of shell brought from the coast, and crescents of hippopotamus
teeth country made, and when the beard is long it is strung with red and
particoloured beads. Brass and copper bangles or massive rings are worn
upon the wrists, the forearm bears the ponderous kitindi or coil
bracelet, and the arm above the elbow is sometimes decorated with
circlets of ivory or with a razor in an ivory étui; the middle is girt
with a coil of wire twisted round a rope of hair or fibre, and the
ankles are covered with small iron bells and the rings of thin brass,
copper, or iron wire, called sambo. When travelling, a goat’s horn, used
as a bugle, is secured over the right shoulder by a lanyard and allowed
to hang by the left side: in the house many wear a smaller article of
the same kind, hollowed inside and containing various articles intended
as charms, and consecrated by the Mganga or medicine-man. The arms are
slender assegais with the shoulders of the blade rounded off: they are
delivered, as by the Somal, with the thumb and forefinger after a
preliminary of vibratory motion, but the people want the force and the
dexterity of the Kafirs. Some have large spears for thrusting, and men
rarely leave the hut without their bows and arrows, the latter
unpoisoned, but curiously and cruelly barbed. They make also the long
double-edged knives called sime, and different complications of rungu or
knob-kerries, some of them armed with an iron lance-head upon the wooden
bulge. Dwarf battle-axes are also seen, but not so frequently as
amongst the western races on the Tanganyika Lake. The shield in
Unyamwezi resembles that of Usagara; it is however rarely used.

There are but few ceremonies amongst the Wanyamwezi. A woman about to
become a mother retires from the hut to the jungle, and after a few
hours returns with a child wrapped in goatskin upon her back, and
probably carrying a load of firewood on her head. The medical treatment
of the Arabs with salt and various astringents for forty days is here
unknown. Twins are not common as amongst the Kafir race, and one of the
two is invariably put to death; the universal custom amongst these
tribes is for the mother to wrap a gourd or calabash in skins, to place
it to sleep with, and to feed it like, the survivor. If the wife die
without issue, the widower claims from her parents the sum paid to them
upon marriage; if she leave a child, the property is preserved for it.
When the father can afford it, a birth is celebrated by copious
libations of pombe. Children are suckled till the end of the second
year. Their only education is in the use of the bow and arrow; after the
fourth summer the boy begins to learn archery with diminutive weapons,
which are gradually increased in strength. Names are given without
ceremony; and as in the countries to the eastward, many of the heathens
have been called after their Arab visitors. Circumcision is not
practised by this people. The children in Unyamwezi generally are the
property not of the uncle but of the father, who can sell or slay them
without blame; in Usukuma or the northern lands, however, succession and
inheritance are claimed by the nephews or sisters’ sons. The Wanyamwezi
have adopted the curious practice of leaving property to their
illegitimate children by slave girls or concubines, to the exclusion of
their issue by wives; they justify it by the fact of the former
requiring their assistance more than the latter, who have friends and
relatives to aid them. As soon as the boy can walk he tends the flocks;
after the age of ten he drives the cattle to pasture, and, considering
himself independent of his father, he plants a tobacco-plot and aspires
to build a hut for himself. There is not a boy “which cannot earn his
own meat.”

Another peculiarity of the Wanyamwezi is the position of the Wahárá or
unmarried girls. Until puberty they live in the father’s house; after
that period the spinsters of the village, who usually number from seven
to a dozen, assemble together and build for themselves at a distance
from their homes a hut where they can receive their friends without
parental interference. There is but one limit to community in single
life: if the Mhárá or “maiden” be likely to become a mother, her “young
man” must marry her under pain of mulct; and if she die in childbirth,
her father demands from her lover a large fine for having taken away his
daughter’s life. Marriage takes place when the youth can afford to pay
the price for a wife: it varies according to circumstances from one to
ten cows. The wife is so far the property of the husband that he can
claim damages from the adulterer; he may not, however, sell her, except
when in difficulties. The marriage is celebrated with the usual carouse,
and the bridegroom takes up his quarters in his wife’s home, not under
her father’s roof. Polygamy is the rule with the wealthy. There is
little community of interests and apparently a lack of family affection
in these tribes. The husband, when returning from the coast laden with
cloth, will refuse a single shukkah to his wife, and the wife
succeeding to an inheritance will abandon her husband to starvation. The
man takes charge of the cattle, goats, sheep, and poultry; the woman has
power over the grain and the vegetables; and each must grow tobacco,
having little hope of borrowing from the other. Widows left with houses,
cattle, and fields, usually spend their substance in supporting lovers,
who are expected occasionally to make presents in return. Hence no coast
slave in Wanyamwezi is ever known to keep a shukkah of cloth.

The usual way of disposing of a corpse in former times was, to carry it
out on the head and to throw it into some jungle strip where the fisi or
cynhyæna abounds,--a custom which accounts for the absence of
graveyards. The Wanyamwezi at first objected to the Arabs publicly
burying their dead in their fields, for fear of pollution; they would
assemble in crowds to close the way against a funeral party. The
merchants, however, persevered till they succeeded in establishing a
right. When a Mnyamwezi dies in a strange country, and his comrades take
the trouble to inter him, they turn the face of the corpse towards the
mother’s village, a proceeding which shows more sentiment than might be
expected from them. The body is buried standing, or tightly bound in a
heap, or placed in a sitting position with the arms clasping the knees:
if the deceased be a great man, a sheep and a bullock are slaughtered
for a funeral feast, the skin is placed over his face, and the hide is
bound to his back. When a sultan dies in a foreign land his body is
buried upon the spot, and his head, or what remains of it, is carried
back for sepulture to his own country. The chiefs of Unyamwezi generally
are interred by a large assemblage of their subjects with cruel rites.
A deep pit is sunk, with a kind of vault or recess projecting from it:
in this the corpse, clothed with skin and hide, and holding a bow in the
right hand, is placed sitting, with a pot of pombe, upon a dwarf stool,
whilst sometimes one, but more generally three female slaves, one on
each side and the third in front, are buried alive to preserve their
lord from the horrors of solitude. A copious libation of pombe upon the
heaped-up earth concludes the ceremony. According to the Arabs, the
Wasukuma inter all their sultans in a jungle north of Unyanyembe, and
the neighbouring peasants deposit before seed-time small offerings of
grain at the Mzimo or Fetiss-house which marks the spot.

The habitations of the eastern Wanyamwezi are the Tembe, which in the
west give way to the circular African hut; among the poorer sub-tribes
the dwelling is a mere stack of straw. The best Tembe have large
projecting eaves supported by uprights: cleanliness, however, can never
be expected in them. Having no limestone, the people ornament the inner
and outer walls with long lines of ovals formed by pressing the finger
tips, after dipping them into ashes and water for whitewash, and into
red clay or black mud for variety of colour. With this primitive
material they sometimes attempt rude imitations of nature--human beings
and serpents. In some parts the cross appears, but the people apparently
ignore it as a symbol. Rude carving is also attempted upon the massive
posts at the entrances of villages, but the figures, though to
appearance idolatrous, are never worshipped. The household furniture of
the Tembe differs little from that described in the villages generally.
The large sloping Kitanda, or bedstead of peeled tree-branch, supported
by forked sticks, and provided with a bedding of mat and cowhide,
occupies the greater part of the outer room. The triangle of clay cones
forming the hearth are generally placed for light near the wall-side
opposite the front door; and the rest of the supellex consists of large
stationary bark cornbins, of gourds and bandboxes slung from the roof,
earthen-pots of black clay, huge ladles, pipes, grass-mats,
grinding-stones, and arms hung to a trimmed and branchy tree trunk
planted upright in a corner. The rooms are divided by party walls,
which, except when separating families, seldom reach to the ceiling. The
fireplace acts as lamp by night, and the door is the only chimney.

The characteristic of the Mnyamwezi village is the “İwánzá”--a
convenience resulting probably from the instinct of the sexes, who
prefer not to mingle, and for the greater freedom of life and manners.
Of these buildings there are two in every settlement, generally built at
opposite sides, fronting the normal Mrimba-tree, which sheds its filmy
shade over the public court-yard. That of the women, being a species of
harem, was not visited; as travellers and strangers are always admitted
into the male İwánzá, it is more readily described. This public-house is
a large hut, somewhat more substantial than those adjoining, often
smeared with smooth clay, and decorated here and there with broad
columns of the ovals before described, and the prints of palms dipped in
ashes and placed flat like the hands in ancient Egyptian buildings. The
roof is generally a flying thatch raised a foot above the walls--an
excellent plan for ventilation in these regions. Outside, the İwánzá is
defended against the incursions of cattle by roughly-barked trunks of
trees resting upon stout uprights: in this space men sit, converse, and
smoke. The two doorways are protected by rude charms suspended from the
lintel, hares’ tails, zebras’ manes, goats’ horns, and other articles of
prophylactic virtue. Inside, half the depth is appropriated to the
Ubiri, a huge standing bedframe, formed, like the plank-benches of a
civilised guard-room, by sleepers lying upon horizontal cross-bars:
these are supported by forked trunks about two feet long planted firmly
in the ground. The floor is of tamped earth. The furniture of the İwánzá
consists of a hearth and grinding-stone; spears, sticks, arrows, and
shillelaghs are stuck to smoke in the dingy rafter ceiling, or are laid
upon hooks of crooked wood depending from the sooty cross-beams: the
corners are occupied by bellows, elephant-spears, and similar articles.
In this “public” the villagers spend their days, and often, even though
married, their nights, gambling, eating, drinking pombe, smoking bhang
and tobacco, chatting, and sleeping like a litter of puppies destitute
of clothing, and using one another’s backs, breasts, and stomachs as
pillows. The İwánzá appears almost peculiar to Unyamwezi.

In Unyamwezi the sexes do not eat together: even the boys would disdain
to be seen sitting at meat with their mothers. The men feed either in
their cottages or more generally in the İwánzá: they make, when they
can, two meals during the day--in the morning, a breakfast, which is
often omitted for economy, and a dinner about 3 P.M. During the interim
they chew tobacco, and, that failing, indulge in a quid of clay. It
probably contains some animal matter, but the chief reason for using it
is apparently the necessity to barbarians of whiling away the time when
not sleeping by exercising their jaws. They prefer the “sweet earth,”
that is to say, the clay of ant-hills: the Arabs have tried it without
other effects but nausea. The custom, however, is not uncommon upon both
coasts of Africa: it takes, in fact, the place of the mastic of Chios,
the kat of Yemen, the betel and toasted grains of India and the farther
East, and the ashes of the Somali country. The Wanyamwezi, and indeed
the East-African tribes generally, have some curious food prejudices.
Before their closer intercourse with the Arabs they used to keep
poultry, but, like the Gallas and the Somal, who look upon the fowl as a
kind of vulture, they would not eat it: even in the present day they
avoid eggs. Some will devour animals that have died of disease, and
carrion,--the flesh of lions and leopards, elephants and rhinoceroses,
asses, wild cats and rats, beetles and white ants;--others refuse to
touch mutton or clean water-fowl, declaring that it is not their custom.
The prejudice has not, however, been reduced to a system, as amongst the
tribes of southern Africa. They rarely taste meat except upon the march,
where the prospect of gain excites them to an unusual indulgence: when a
bullock is killed, they either jerk the meat, or dry it upon a dwarf
platform of sticks raised above a slow and smoky fire, after which it
will keep for some days. The usual food is the ugali or porridge of
boiled flour: they find, however, a variety of edible herbs in the
jungle, and during the season they luxuriate upon honey and sour milk.
No Mnyamwezi, however, will own to repletion unless he has “sat upon
pombe,”--in other words, has drunk to intoxication; and the chiefs pride
themselves upon living entirely upon beef and stimulants.

The Wanyamwezi have won for themselves a reputation by their commercial
industry. Encouraged by the merchants, they are the only professional
porters of East Africa; and even amongst them, the Wakalaganza,
Wasumbwa, and Wasukuma are the only tribes who regularly visit the coast
in this capacity. They are now no longer “honest and civil to
strangers”--semi-civilisation has hitherto tended to degradation. They
seem to have learned but little by their intercourse with the Arabs.
Commerce with them is still in its infancy. They have no idea of credit,
although in Karagwah and the northern kingdoms payment may be delayed
for a period of two years. They cannot, like some of their neighbours,
bargain: a man names the article which he requires, and if it be not
forthcoming he will take no other. The porters, who linger upon the
coast or in the island of Zanzibar, either cut grass for asses, carry
stones and mortar to the town, for which they receive a daily hire of
from two to eight pice, or they obtain from the larger landholders
permission to reclaim and cultivate a plot of ground for vegetables and
manioc. They have little of the literature, songs and tales, common
amongst barbarians; and though they occasionally indulge in speeches,
they do not, like many kindred tribes, cultivate eloquence. On the march
they beguile themselves with chanting for hours together half a dozen
words eternally repeated. Their language is copious but confused, and
they are immoderately fond of simple and meaningless syllables used as
interjections. Their industry is confined to weaving coarse cloths of
unbleached cotton, neatly-woven baskets, wooden milk-bowls, saddle-bags
for their asses, and arms. They rear asses and load them lightly when
travelling to the coast, but they have not yet learned to ride them.
Though they carefully fence and ditch their fields, they have never
invented a plough, confining themselves to ridging the land with the
laborious hoe. They rarely sell one another, nor do they much encourage
the desertion of slaves. The wild bondsman, when running away, is
sometimes appropriated by his captor, but a Muwallid or domestic slave
is always restored after a month or two. The Arabs prefer to purchase
men sold under suspicion of magic; they rarely flee, fearing lest their
countrymen should put them to death.

As has been said, the government of Unyamwezi is conducted by a
multitude of petty chiefs. The ruling classes are thus called: Mtemi or
Mwáme is the chief or sultan, Mgáwe (in the plural Wágáwe) the principal
councillor, and Mánácháro, or Mnyapara (plural Wányápárá) the elder. The
ryots or subjects on the other hand are collectively styled Wasengi. The
most powerful chiefs are Fundikira of Unyanyembe, Masanga of Msene, and
Kafrira of Kiríra. The dignity of Mtemi is hereditary. He has power of
life and death over his subjects, and he seldom condescends to any but
mortal punishment. His revenue is composed of additions to his private
property by presents from travellers, confiscation of effects in cases
of felony or magic, by the sale of subjects, and by treasure trove. Even
if a man kill his own slave, the slave’s effects lapse to the ruler. The
villagers must give up all ivory found in the jungles, although the
hunters are allowed to retain the tusks of the slaughtered animals.

A few brief remarks concerning Fundikira, the chief of Unyamwezi in
1858, may serve to illustrate the condition of the ruling class in
Unyamwezi. This chief was travelling towards the coast as a porter in a
caravan, when he heard of his father’s death: he at once stacked his
load and prepared to return home and rule. The rest of the gang, before
allowing him to depart, taunted him severely, exclaiming, partly in
jest, partly in earnest, “Ah! now thou art still our comrade, but
presently thou wilt torture and slay, fine and flog us.” Fundikira
proceeding to his native country inherited, as is the custom, all his
father’s property and widows; he fixed himself at Ititenya, presently
numbered ten wives, who have borne him only three children, built 300
houses for his slaves and dependants, and owned 2000 head of cattle. He
lived in some state, declining to call upon strangers, and, though not
demanding still obtaining large presents. Becoming obese by age and good
living, he fell ill in the autumn of 1858, and, as usual, his relations
were suspected of compassing his end by Uchawi, or black magic. In these
regions the death of one man causes many. The Mganga was summoned to
apply the usual ordeal. After administering a mystic drug, he broke the
neck of a fowl, and splitting it into two lengths inspected the
interior. If blackness or blemish appear about the wings, it denotes the
treachery of children, relations and kinsmen; the backbone convicts the
mother and grandmother; the tail shows that the criminal is the wife,
the thighs the concubines, and the injured shanks or feet the other
slaves. Having fixed upon the class of the criminals, they are collected
together by the Mganga, who, after similarly dosing a second hen, throws
her up into the air above the heads of the crowd and singles out the
person upon whom she alights. Confession is extorted by tying the thumb
backwards till it touches the wrist or by some equally barbarous mode of
question. The consequence of condemnation is certain and immediate
death; the mode is chosen by the Mganga. Some are speared, others are
beheaded or “ammazati,”--clubbed:--a common way is to bind the cranium
between two stiff pieces of wood which are gradually tightened by cords
till the brain bursts out from the sutures. For women they practise a
peculiarly horrible kind of impalement. These atrocities continue until
the chief recovers or dies: at the commencement of his attack, in one
household eighteen souls, male and female, had been destroyed; should
his illness be protracted, scores will precede him to the grave, for the
Mchawi or magician must surely die.

The Wanyamwezi will generally sell their criminals and captives; when
want drives, they part with their wives, their children, and even their
parents. For economy, they import their serviles from Ujiji and the
adjoining regions; from the people lying towards the south-east angle of
the Tanganyika Lake, as the Wafipa, the Wapoka, and the Wagara; and from
the Nyanza races, and the northern kingdoms of Karagwah, Uganda, and
Unyoro.

[Illustration: My Tembe near the Tanganyika.]




CHAP. XIII.

AT LENGTH WE SIGHT THE LAKE TANGANYIKA, THE “SEA OF UJIJI.”


The route before us lay through a howling wilderness, once populous and
fertile, but now laid waste by the fierce Watuta. Snay bin Amir had
warned me that it would be our greatest trial of patience. The march
began badly: Mpete, the district on the right bank of the Malagarazi
River, is highly malarious, and the mosquitoes feasted right royally
upon our life, even during the day-time. We bivouacked under a shady
tree, within sight of the ferry, not knowing that upon the woody
eminences above the valley there are usually fine kraals of dry grass
and of mkora or myombo-bark. During the rainy monsoon the best
encampments in these regions are made of tree-sheets: two parallel
rings are cut in the bole, at a distance of six to seven feet; a
perpendicular slit then connects them, the bark is easily stripped off,
and the trunk, after having been left for a time to season, is filled
for use.

On the 5th of February we set out betimes, across a route traversing for
a short distance swampy ground along the river-side. It then stretched
over jungly and wooded hill-spires, with steep rough ascents and
descents, divided from neighbouring elevations by slippery mire-runs.
Exposed to the full break of the rainy monsoon, and the frequent
outbursts of fiery sun, I could not but admire the marvellous fertility
of the soil; an impervious luxuriance of vegetation veils the lowlands,
clothes the hill-sides, and caps their rounded summits. After marching
five hours and twenty minutes, we found a large kraal in the district of
Kinawani: the encamping ground,--partially cleared of the thick,
fetid, and putrescent vegetation around,--hugs the right bank of
the Malagarazi, and faces the village of Sultan Mzogera on the
southern or opposite side. A small store of provisions--grain and
sweet-potatoes--was purchased from the villagers of Kinawani, who
flocked across the stream to trade. They were, however, fanciful in
their requirements: beads, especially the coral porcelain, iron-wire,
salt, and meat. The heaviness of this march caused two of the Hammals
engaged at Usagozi to levant, and the remaining four to strike work. It
was therefore again necessary to mount ass--ten days after an attack of
“paraplegia!”

We left Kinawani on the next morning, and striking away from the river
we crossed rugged and rolling ground, divided by deep swamps of mire and
grass. To the southward ran the stream, rushing violently down a rocky
bed, with tall trees lining its banks. Sailing before the morning
east-wind, a huge mass of nimbus occupied the sky, and presently
discharged itself in an unusually heavy downfall: during the afternoon
the breeze veered as usual to the west, and the hot sunshine was for
once enjoyable. After a weary trudge of five hours and twenty minutes,
we entered a large and comfortable kraal, situated near a reach where
the swift and turbid river foamed over a discontinuous ledge of rock,
between avenues of dense and tangled jungle. No provisions were
procurable at this place; man appeared to have become extinct.

The 7th of February led us over broken ground, encumbered by forest, and
cut by swamps, with higher levels on the right hand, till we again fell
into the marshes and fields of the river-valley. The district on the
other side of the river, called Jambeho, is one of the most flourishing
in Uvinza; its villages of small bird-nest huts, and its carefully hoed
fields of grain and sweet-potato, affected the eye, after the dreary
monotony of a jungle-march, like the glimmer of a light at the end of a
night-march, or the discovery of land at the conclusion of a long
sea-voyage. The village ferry was instantly put into requisition, and
the chief, Ruwere, after receiving as his “dash” eight cloths, allowed
us to purchase provisions. At that season, however, the harvest of grain
and sweet-potatoes had not been got in, and for their single old hen the
people demanded an exorbitant price. We hastened, despite all
difficulties, to escape from this place of pestilence, which clouds of
mosquitoes rendered as uncomfortable as it was dangerous.

The next day ushered in our departure with drizzling rain, which
drenched the slippery paths of red clay; the asses, wild with wind and
weather, exposed us to accidents in a country of deep ravines and rugged
boulders. Presently diverging from the Malagarazi, we passed over the
brow of a low tree-clad hill above the junction of the Rusugi River, and
followed the left bank of this tributary as far as its nearer ford. The
Rusugi which drains the northern highlands into the Malagarazi, was then
about 100 yards in width: the bottom is a red ochreish soil, the strong
stream, divided in the centre by a long low strip of sand and gravel,
flowed at that time breast-deep, and its banks,--as usual with rivers in
these lands,--deeply cut by narrow watercourses, rendered travelling
unusually toilsome. At the Rusugi Ford the road separates into a
northern and a southern branch, a hill-spur forming the line of
demarcation. The northern strikes off to the district of Parugerero on
the left bank, where a shallower ford is found: the place in question is
a settlement of Wavinza, containing from forty to fifty bee-hive huts,
tenanted by salt-diggers. The principal pan is sunk in the vicinity of
the river, the saline produce, after being boiled down in the huts, is
piled up, and handmade into little cones. The pan affords tripartite
revenue to three sultans, and it constitutes the principal wealth of the
Wavinza: the salt here sold for one shukkah per masuta, or half-load,
and far superior to the bitter, nitrous produce of Ugogo, finds its way
throughout the heart of Africa, supplying the lands adjoining both the
Tanganyika and the Nyanza Lakes.

We followed the southern line which crosses the Rusugi River at the
branch islet. Fords are always picturesque. The men seemed to enjoy the
washing; their numbers protected them from the crocodiles, which fled
from their shouting and splashing; and they even ventured into deep
water, where swimming was necessary. We crossed as usual on a “unicorn”
of negroids, the upper part of the body supported by two men, and the
feet resting upon the shoulders of a third,--a posture somewhat similar
to that affected by gentlemen who find themselves unable to pull off
their own boots. Then remounting, we ascended the grassy rise on the
right of the stream, struggled, slipped, and slided over a muddy swamp,
climbed up a rocky and bushy ridge, and found ourselves ensconced in a
ragged and comfortless kraal upon the western slopes, within sight of
some deserted salt-pans below. As evening drew in, it became apparent
that the Goanese Gaetano, the five Wak’hutu porters, and Sarmalla, a
donkey-driving son of Ramji, had remained behind, in company with
several loads, the tent, two bags of clothes, my companion’s
elephant-gun, my bedding, and that of my servant. It was certain that
with this provision in the vicinity of Parugerero they would not starve,
and the porters positively refused to halt an hour more than necessary.
I found it therefore compulsory to advance. On the 11th February three
“children” of Said bin Salim consented, as usual, for a consideration,
to return and to bring up the laggers, and about a week afterwards they
entered Ujiji without accident. The five Wak’hutu porters, probably from
the persuasions of Muinyi Wazira, had, although sworn to fidelity with
the strongest oaths, carried into execution a long-organised plan of
desertion. Gaetano refused to march on the day of our separation,
because he was feverish, and he expected a riding-ass to be sent back
for him. He brought up our goods safely, but blankets, towels, and many
articles of clothing belonging to his companion, had disappeared. This
difficulty was, of course, attributed to the Wak’hutu porters; probably
the missing things had been sold for food by the Goanese and the son of
Ramji: I could not therefore complain of the excuse.

From the Msawahili Fundi,--fattore, manciple or steward--of a small
caravan belonging to an Arab merchant, Hamid bin Sulayyam, I purchased
for thirty-five cloths, about thrice its value, a little single-fold
tent of thin American domestics, through which sun and rain penetrated
with equal facility. Like the cloth-houses of the Arab travellers
generally, it was gable-shaped, six or seven feet high, about eight feet
long by four broad, and so light that with its bamboo-poles and its pegs
it scarcely formed a load for a man. On the 9th February, we descended
from the ridge upon which the kraal was placed, and traversed a deep
swamp of black mud, dotted in the more elevated parts with old salt-pans
and pits, where broken pottery and blackened lumps of clay still showed
traces of human handiwork. Beyond this low-land, the track, striking off
from the river-valley and turning to the right, entered toilsome ground.
We crossed deep and rocky ravines, with luxuriant vegetation above, and
with rivulets at the bottom trickling towards the Malagarazi, by
scrambling down and swarming up the roughest steps of rock, boulder, and
knotted tree-root. Beyond these difficulties lay woody and stony hills,
whose steep and slippery inclines were divided by half a dozen waters,
all more or less troublesome to cross. The porters, who were in a place
of famine, insisted upon pushing on to the utmost of their strength:
after six hours’ march, I persuaded them to halt in the bush upon a
rocky hill, where the neighbouring descent supplied water. The Fundi
visited the valley of the Rusugi River, and finding a herd of the Mbogo
or Bos Caffer, brought home a welcome addition to our well-nigh
exhausted rations.

The 10th February saw us crossing the normal sequence of jungly and
stony “neat’s-tongues,” divided by deep and grassy swamps, which,
stagnant in the dry weather, drain after rains the northern country to
the Malagarazi River. We passed over by a felled tree-trunk an
unfordable rivulet, hemmed in by a dense and fetid thicket; and the
asses summarily pitched down the muddy bank into the water, swam across
and wriggled up the slimy off-side like cats. Thence a foul swamp of
black mire led to the Ruguvu or Luguvu River, the western boundary of
Uvinza and the eastern frontier of Ukaranga. This stream, which can be
forded during the dry season, had spread out after the rains over its
borders of grassy plain; we were delayed till the next morning in a
miserable camping ground, a mud-bank thinly veiled with vegetation, in
order to bridge it with branching trees. An unusual downfall during the
night might have caused serious consequences;--provisions had now
disappeared, moreover the porters considered the place dangerous.

The 10th February began with the passage of the Ruguvu River, where
again our goods and chattels were fated to be thoroughly sopped. I
obtained a few corn-cobs from a passing caravan of Wanyamwezi, and
charged them with meat and messages for the party left behind. A desert
march, similar to the stage last travelled, led us to the Unguwwe or
Uvungwe River, a shallow, muddy stream, girt in as usual by dense
vegetation; and we found a fine large kraal on its left bank. After a
cold and rainy night, we resumed our march by fording the Unguwwe. Then
came the weary toil of fighting through tiger and spear-grass, with
reeds, rushes, a variety of ferns, before unseen, and other lush and
lusty growths, clothing a succession of rolling hills, monotonous
swellings, where the descent was ever a reflection of the ascent. The
paths were broken, slippery, and pitted with deep holes; along their
sides, where the ground lay exposed to view, a conglomerate of
ferruginous red clay--suggesting a resemblance to the superficies of
Londa, as described by Dr. Livingstone--took the place of the granites
and sandstones of the eastern countries, and the sinking of the land
towards the Lake became palpable. In the jungle were extensive clumps of
bamboo and rattan; the former small, the latter of poor quality; the
bauhinia, or black-wood, and the salsaparilla vine abounded; wild grapes
of diminutive size, and of the austerest flavour, appeared for the first
time upon the sunny hill-sides which Bacchus ever loves, and in the
lower swamps plantains grew almost wild. In parts the surface was broken
into small deep hollows, from which sprang pyramidal masses of the
hugest trees. Though no sign of man here met the eye, scattered fields
and plantations showed that villages must be somewhere near. Sweet water
was found in narrow courses of black mud, which sorely tried the sinews
of laden man and beast. Long after noon, we saw the caravan halted by
fatigue upon a slope beyond a weary swamp: a violent storm was brewing,
and whilst half the sky was purple black with nimbus, the sun shone
stingingly through the clear portion of the empyrean. But these small
troubles were lightly borne; already in the far distance appeared walls
of sky-blue cliff with gilded summits, which were as a beacon to the
distressed mariner.

On the 13th February we resumed our travel through screens of lofty
grass, which thinned out into a straggling forest. After about an hour’s
march, as we entered a small savannah, I saw the Fundi before alluded to
running forward and changing the direction of the caravan. Without
supposing that he had taken upon himself this responsibility, I followed
him. Presently he breasted a steep and stony hill, sparsely clad with
thorny trees: it was the death of my companion’s riding-ass. Arrived
with toil,--for our fagged beasts now refused to proceed,--we halted for
a few minutes upon the summit. “What is that streak of light which lies
below?” I inquired of Seedy Bombay. “I am of opinion,” quoth Bombay,
“that that is _the_ water.” I gazed in dismay; the remains of my
blindness, the veil of trees, and a broad ray of sunshine illuminating
but one reach of the Lake, had shrunk its fair proportions. Somewhat
prematurely I began to lament my folly in having risked life and lost
health for so poor a prize, to curse Arab exaggeration, and to propose
an immediate return, with the view of exploring the Nyanza, or Northern
Lake. Advancing, however, a few yards, the whole scene suddenly burst
upon my view, filling me with admiration, wonder, and delight. It gave
local habitation to the poet’s fancy:--

  “Tremolavano i rai del Sol nascente
     Sovra l’onde del mar purpuree e d’oro,
   E in veste di zaffiro il ciel ridente
     Specchiar parea le sue bellezze in loro.
   D’Africa i venti fieri e d’Oriente,
     Sovra il letto del mar, prendean ristoro,
   E co’ sospiri suoi soavi e lieti
     Col Zeffiro increspava il lembo a Teti.”

Nothing, in sooth, could be more picturesque than this first view of the
Tanganyika Lake, as it lay in the lap of the mountains, basking in the
gorgeous tropical sunshine. Below and beyond a short foreground of
rugged and precipitous hill-fold, down which the foot-path zigzags
painfully, a narrow strip of emerald green, never sere and marvellously
fertile, shelves towards a ribbon of glistening yellow sand, here
bordered by sedgy rushes, there cleanly and clearly cut by the breaking
wavelets. Further in front stretch the waters, an expanse of the
lightest and softest blue, in breadth varying from thirty to thirty-five
miles, and sprinkled by the crisp east-wind with tiny crescents of snowy
foam. The background in front is a high and broken wall of
steel-coloured mountain, here flecked and capped with pearly mist, there
standing sharply pencilled against the azure air; its yawning chasms,
marked by a deeper plum-colour, fall towards dwarf hills of mound-like
proportions, which apparently dip their feet in the wave. To the south,
and opposite the long low point, behind which the Malagarazi River
discharges the red loam suspended in its violent stream, lie the bluff
headlands and capes of Uguhha, and, as the eye dilates, it falls upon a
cluster of outlying islets, speckling a sea-horizon. Villages,
cultivated lands, the frequent canoes of the fishermen on the waters,
and on a nearer approach the murmurs of the waves breaking upon the
shore, give a something of variety, of movement, of life to the
landscape, which, like all the fairest prospects in these regions, wants
but a little of the neatness and finish of Art,--mosques and kiosks,
palaces and villas, gardens and orchards--contrasting with the profuse
lavishness and magnificence of nature, and diversifying the unbroken
_coup d’œil_ of excessive vegetation, to rival, if not to excel, the
most admired scenery of the classic regions. The riant shores of this
vast crevasse appeared doubly beautiful to me after the silent and
spectral mangrove-creeks on the East-African seaboard, and the
melancholy, monotonous experience of desert and jungle scenery, tawny
rock and sun-parched plain or rank herbage and flats of black mire.
Truly it was a revel for soul and sight! Forgetting toils, dangers, and
the doubtfulness of return, I felt willing to endure double what I had
endured; and all the party seemed to join with me in joy. My purblind
companion found nothing to grumble at except the “mist and glare before
his eyes.” Said bin Salim looked exulting,--_he_ had procured for me
this pleasure,--the monoculous Jemadar grinned his congratulations, and
even the surly Baloch made civil salams.

Arrived at Ukaranga I was disappointed to find there a few miserable
grass-huts--used as a temporary shelter by caravans passing to and from
the islets fringing the opposite coast--that clustered round a single
Tembe, then occupied by its proprietor, Hamid bin Sulayyam, an Arab
trader. Presently the motive of the rascally Fundi, in misleading the
caravan, which, by the advice of Snay bin Amir, I had directed to march
upon the Kawele district in Ujiji, leaked out. The roadstead of Ukaranga
is separated from part of Kawele by the line of the Ruche River, which
empties itself into a deep hollow bay, whose chord, extending from N.W.
to S.E., is five or six miles in length. The strip of shelving plain
between the trough-like hills and the lake is raised but a few feet
above water-level. Converted by the passage of a hundred drains from the
highlands, into a sheet of sloppy and slippery mire, breast deep in
select places, it supports with difficulty a few hundred inhabitants:
drenched with violent rain-storms and clammy dews, it is rife in fevers,
and it is feared by travellers on account of its hippopotami and
crocodiles. In the driest season the land-road is barely practicable;
during and after the wet monsoon the lake affords the only means of
passage, and the port of Ukaranga contains not a single native canoe.
The Fundi, therefore, wisely determined that I should spend beads for
rations and lodgings amongst his companions, and be heavily mulcted for
a boat by them. Moreover, he instantly sent word to Mnya Mtaza, the
principal headman of Ukaranga, who, as usual with the Lakist chiefs,
lives in the hills at some distance from the water, to come instanter
for his Honga or blackmail, as, no fresh fish being procurable, the
Wazungu were about to depart. The latter manœuvre, however, was
frustrated by my securing a conveyance for the morrow. It was an open
solid-built Arab craft, capable of containing thirty to thirty-five men;
it belonged to an absent merchant, Said bin Usman; it was in point of
size the second on the Tanganyika, and being too large for paddling, its
crew rowed instead of scooping up the water like the natives. The
slaves, who had named four khete of coral beads as the price of a bit of
sun-dried “baccalà,” and five as the hire of a foul hovel for one night,
demanded four cloths--at least the price of the boat--for conveying the
party to Kawele, a three hours’ trip. I gave them ten cloths and two
coil-bracelets, or somewhat more than the market value of the whole
equipage,--a fact which I effectually used as an _argumentum ad
verecundiam_.

At eight A.M., on the 14th February, we began coasting along the eastern
shore of the lake in a north-westerly direction, towards the Kawele
district, in the land of Ujiji. The view was exceedingly beautiful:

    “  .  .  .  the flat sea shone like yellow gold
  Fused in the sun,”

and the picturesque and varied forms of the mountains, rising above and
dipping into the lake, were clad in purplish blue, set off by the rosy
tints of morning. Yet, more and more, as we approached our destination,
I wondered at the absence of all those features which prelude a popular
settlement. Passing the low, muddy, and grass-grown mouth of the Ruche
River, I could descry on the banks nothing but a few scattered hovels of
miserable construction, surrounded by fields of sorghum and sugar-cane,
and shaded by dense groves of the dwarf, bright-green plantain, and the
tall, sombre elæis or Guinea-palm. By the Arabs I had been taught to
expect a town, a ghaut, a port, and a bazar, excelling in size that of
Zanzibar, and I had old, preconceived ideas concerning “die Stadt
Ujiji,” whose sire was the “Mombas Mission Map.” Presently Mammoth and
Behemoth shrank timidly from exposure, and a few hollowed logs, the
monoxyles of the fishermen, the wood-cutters, and the market-people,
either cut the water singly, or stood in crowds drawn up on the patches
of yellow sand. About 11 A.M. the craft was poled through a hole in a
thick welting of coarse reedy grass and flaggy aquatic plants to a level
landing-place of flat shingle, where the water shoaled off rapidly. Such
was the ghaut or disembarkation quay of the great Ujiji.

Around the ghaut a few scattered huts, in the humblest bee-hive shape,
represented the port-town. Advancing some hundred yards through a din of
shouts and screams, tom-toms and trumpets, which defies description, and
mobbed by a swarm of black beings, whose eyes seemed about to start from
their heads with surprise, I passed a relic of Arab civilisation, the
“Bazar.” It is a plot of higher ground, cleared of grass, and flanked
by a crooked tree; there, between 10 A.M. and 3 P.M.--weather
permitting--a mass of standing and squatting negroes buy and sell,
barter and exchange, offer and chaffer with a hubbub heard for miles,
and there a spear or dagger-thrust brings on, by no means unfrequently,
a skirmishing faction-fight. The articles exposed for sale are sometimes
goats, sheep, and poultry, generally fish, vegetables, and a few fruits,
plantains, and melons; palm-wine is a staple commodity, and occasionally
an ivory or a slave is hawked about: those industriously disposed employ
themselves during the intervals of bargaining in spinning a coarse yarn
with the rudest spindle, or in picking the cotton, which is placed in
little baskets on the ground. I was led to a ruinous Tembe, built by an
Arab merchant, Hamid bin Salim, who had allowed it to be tenanted by
ticks and slaves. Situated, however, half a mile from, and backed by,
the little village of Kawele, whose mushroom-huts barely protruded their
summits above the dense vegetation, and placed at a similar distance
from the water in front, it had the double advantage of proximity to
provisions, and of a view which at first was highly enjoyable. The
Tanganyika is ever seen to advantage from its shores: upon its surface
the sight wearies with the unvarying tintage--all shining greens and
hazy blues--whilst continuous parallels of lofty hills, like the sides
of a huge trough, close the prospect and suggest the idea of
confinement.

And now, lodged with comparative comfort, in the cool Tembe, I will
indulge in a few geographical and ethnological reminiscences of the
country lately traversed.

The fifth region includes the alluvial valley of the Malagarazi River,
which subtends the lowest spires of the Highlands of Karagwah and
Urundi, the western prolongation of the chain which has obtained,
probably from African tradition, the name of “Lunar Mountains.” In
length, it extends from the Malagarazi Ferry in E. Lat. 31° 10′ to the
Tanganyika Lake, in E. Long. 30° 1′. Its breadth, from S. Lat. 3° 14′,
the supposed northern limit of Urundi, to S. Lat. 5° 2′; the parallel of
Ukaranga is a distance of 108 rectilinear geographical miles. Native
caravans pass from the Malagarazi to Ujiji in eight days, usually
without halting till arrived within a stone’s throw of their
destination. To a region of such various elevations it would be
difficult to assign an average of altitude; the heights observed by
thermometer never exceeded 1850 feet.

This country contains in due order, from east to west, the lands of
Uvinza, Ubuha, and Ujiji: on the northern edge is Uhha, and on the
south-western extremity Ukaranga. The general features are those of the
alluvial valleys of the Kingani and the Mgeta Rivers. The soil in the
vicinity of the Malagarazi is a rich brown or black loam, rank with
vegetable decay. This strip along the stream varies in breadth from one
to five miles; on the right bank it is mostly desert, but not sterile,
on the left it is an expanse of luxuriant cultivation. The northern
boundary is a jagged line of hill-spurs of primitive formation, rough
with stones and yawning with ravines: in many places the projections
assume the form of green “dogs’ tails,” or “neat’s tongues,” projecting
like lumpy ridges into the card-table-like level of the river-land
southwards. Each mound or spur is crowned with a tufty clump,
principally of bauhinias and mimosas, and often a lone, spreading and
towering tree, a Borassus or a Calabash, ornamenting the extreme point,
forms a landmark for the caravan. The sides of these hills, composed of
hornblende and gneissic rock, quartzite, quartz-grit, and ferruginous
gritstone, are steep, rugged, and thickly wooded, and one slope
generally reflects the other,--if muddy, muddy; and if stony, stony.
Each “hanger,” or wave of ground, is divided from its neighbour by a
soft sedgy valley, bisected by a network of stagnant pools. Here and
there are nullahs, with high stiff earthbanks for the passage of rain
torrents. The grass stands in lofty screens, and the path leads over a
matted mass of laid stalks which cover so closely the thick mud that
loaded asses do not sink; this vegetation is burned down during the hot
season, and a few showers bring up an emerald crop of young blades,
sprouting phœnix-like from the ashes of the dead. The southern boundary
of the valley is more regular; in the eastern parts is an almost tabular
wall of rock, covered even to the crest with shrub and tree.

As is proved by the regular course of the Malagarazi River, the westward
decline of the country is gentle: along the road, however, the two
marches nearest to the Tanganyika Lake appear to sink more rapidly than
those preceding them. The main drain receives from the northern
hill-spurs a multitude of tributaries, which convey their surplus
moisture into the great central reservoir.

Under the influence of the two great productive powers in nature--heat
and moisture--the wondrous fertility of the soil, which puts forth where
uncleared a rank jungle of nauseous odour, renders the climate
dangerous. The rains divide the year into two unequal portions of eight
and four months, namely, the wet monsoon, which commences with violence
in September and ends in May, and the dry hot weather which rounds off
the year. The showers fall, as in Zanzibar, uncontinuously, with breaks
varying from a few hours to several days; unlike those of Zanzibar, they
are generally accompanied by violent discharges of electricity.
Lightning from the north, especially at night, is considered a sign of
approaching foul weather. It would be vain to seek in these regions of
Central Africa the kaskazi and kosi, or regular north-east and
south-west monsoons, those local modifications of the trade-winds which
may be traced in regular progress from the centre of Equatorial Africa
to the Himalayas. The atmospheric currents deflected from the Atlantic
Ocean by the coast-radiation and the arid and barren regions of Southern
Africa are changed in hydrometric condition, and are compelled by the
chilly and tree-clad heights of the Tanganyika Lake, and the low, cold,
and river-bearing plains lying to the westward, to part with the
moisture which they have collected in the broad belt of extreme humidity
lying between the Ngami Lake and the equator. When the land has become
super-saturated, the cold, wet, wind, driving cold masses, surcharged
with electricity, sets continually eastward, to restore the equilibrium
in lands still reeking with the torrid blaze, and where the atmosphere
has been rarified by from four to six months of burning suns. At Msene,
in Western Unyamwezi, the rains break about October; thence the wet
monsoon, resuming its eastward course, crosses the Land of the Moon,
and, travelling by slow stages, arrives at the coast in early April.
Following the northing sun, and deflected to the north-east by the
rarified atmosphere from the hot, dry surface of the Eastern Horn of
Africa, the rains reach Western India in June, and exhaust themselves in
frequent and copious downfalls upon the southern versant of the
Himalayas. The gradual refrigeration of the ground, with the southing
of the sun, produces in turn the inverse process, namely, the
north-east monsoon. About the Tanganyika, however, all is variable. The
large body of water in the central reservoir preserves its equability of
temperature, while the alternations of chilly cold and potent heat, in
the high and broken lands around it, cause extreme irregularity in the
direction of the currents. During the rains of 1858 the prevalent winds
were constantly changing: in the mornings there was almost regularly a
cool north breeze drawn by the water from the heights of Urundi; in the
course of the day it varied round towards the south. The most violent
storms came up from the south-east and the south-west, and as often
against as with the gale. The long and rigorous wet monsoon, broken only
by a few scattered days of heat, renders the climate exceedingly damp,
and it is succeeded by a burst of sunshine which dries the grass to
stubble in a few days. Despite these extremes, the climate of Ujiji has
the reputation of being comparatively healthy; it owes this probably to
the refreshing coolness of the nights and mornings. The mukunguru, or
seasoning-fever of this region, is not feared by strangers so much as
that of Unyanyembe, yet no one expects to escape it. It is a low bilious
and aguish type, lasting from three to four days: during the attack
perspiration is induced with difficulty, and it often recurs at regular
times once a month.

From the Malagarazi Ferry many lines traverse the desert on the right or
northern bank of the river, which is preferred to the southern, whence
the Wavinza exclude travellers. Before entering this region caravans
generally combine, so as to present a formidable front to possible foes.
The trunk road, called Jambeho, the most southerly of the northern
routes, has been described in detail.

The district of Ukaranga extends from the Ruguvu or the Unguwwe River to
the waters of the lake: on the south it is bounded by the region of
Ut’hongwe, and on the north by the Ruche River. This small and sluggish
stream, when near the mouth, is about forty yards in breadth, and, being
unfordable at all seasons, two or three ferry-boats always ply upon its
waters. The _rauque_ bellow of the hippopotamus is heard on its banks,
and the adjacent lowlands are infested by mosquitoes in clouds. The
villages of Ukaranga are scattered in clumps over the plain--wretched
hamlets, where a few households live surrounded by rare cultivation in
the drier parts of the swamps. The “port of Ukaranga” is an open
roadstead, which seldom shows even a single canoe. Merchants who possess
boats and can send for provisions to the islands across the lake
sometimes prefer, for economy, Ukaranga to Kawele; it is also made a
halting-place by those _en route_ to Uguhha, who would lose time by
visiting Ujiji. The land, however, affords no supplies; a bazar is
unknown; and the apathetic tribe, who cultivate scarcely sufficient
grain for themselves, will not even take the trouble to cast a net.
Ukaranga sends bamboos, rafters for building, and fire-wood, cut in the
background of highlands, to Kawele and other parts of Ujiji, at which
places, however, workmen must be hired.

Ukaranga signifies, etymologically, the “Land of Groundnuts.” This
little district may, in earlier ages, have given name to the Mocarangas,
Mucarongas, or Mucarangas, a nation which, according to the Portuguese
historians, from João dos Sanctos (1586-97) to Don Sebastian Xavier
Botelho (1835), occupied the country within the Mozambique, from S.
lat. 5° to S. lat. 25°, under subjection to the sovereign and the people
of “Monomotapa.” In the absence of history, analogy is the only guide.
Either, then, the confusion of the Tanganyika and the Nyassa Lakes by
the old geographers, caused them to extend the “Mocarangas” up to the
northern water--and the grammatical error in the word “Mucaranga”
justifies some suspicion as to their accuracy--or in the space of three
centuries the tribe has declined from its former power and consequence,
or the Wakaranga of the Tanganyika are a remnant of the mighty southern
nation, which, like the Watuta tribe, has of late years been pressed by
adverse circumstances to the north. Though Senhor Botelho, in his
‘Memoria Estatisca,’ denominates the “Monomoezi country” “Western
Mucaranga,” it is certain that no Mnyamwezi in the present day owns to
connection with a race speaking a different dialect, and distant about
200 miles from his frontier.

The land of Ujiji is bounded on the north by the heights of Urundi, and
on the south by the Ukaranga country: eastward it extends to Ubuha, and
westward it is washed by the waves of the Tanganyika Lake. On its
north-east lies the land of Uhha, now reduced by the predatory Watuta to
a luxuriant desert.

The head-quarter village of Ujiji was in 1858 Kawele. To the westward of
this settlement was the district of Gungu, facing the islet rock Bangwe.
This place was deserted by travellers on account of the plundering
propensities of its former chief. His son “Lurinda,” however, labours to
recover lost ground by courtesy and attention to strangers.
South-eastwards of Kawele is the district of Ugoyye, frequented by the
Arabs, who find the Sultans Habeyya and Marabu somewhat less
extortionate than their neighbours. It is a sandy spot, clear of white
ants, but shut out by villages and cultivation from the lovely view of
the lake. To one standing at Kawele all these districts and villages are
within two or three miles, and a distant glance discloses the
possessions of half-a-dozen independent tribes.

Caravans entering Ujiji from the land side usually encamp in the
outlying villages on the right or left bank of the Ruche, at
considerable inconvenience, for some days. The origin of this custom
appears to date from olden time. In East Africa, as a rule, every
stranger is held to be hostile before he has proved friendly intentions,
and many tribes do not admit him into their villages without a special
invitation. Thus, even in the present day, the visitor in the countries
of the Somal and Galla, the Wamasai and the Wakwafi, must sit under some
tree outside the settlement till a deputation of elders, after formally
ascertaining his purpose, escort him to their homes. The modern reason
for the custom, which prevails upon the coast, as well as on the banks
of the Tanganyika, is rather commercial than political. The caravan
halts upon neutral ground, and the sultans or chiefs of the different
villages send select messengers carrying various presents: in the
interior ivory and slaves, and in the maritime regions cloth and
provisions, technically called “Magubiko,” and intended as an earnest of
their desire to open trade. Sweet words and fair promises win the day;
the Mtongi, or head of the caravan, after a week of earnest deliberation
with all his followers, chooses his host, temporary lodgings are
provided for the guests, and the value of the retaining fees is
afterwards recovered in Hongá and Kirembá--blackmail and customs. This
custom was known in Southern Africa by the name of “marts;” that is, a
“connection with a person belonging to another nation, so that they
reside at each other’s houses when visiting the place, and make mutual
presents.” The compulsory guest amongst the Arabs of Zanzibar and the
Somal is called “Nezil.”

At Ujiji terminates, after twelve stages, which native caravans
generally finish in a fortnight, all halts included, the transit of the
fifth region. The traveller has now accomplished a total number of 85
long, or 100 short stages, which, with necessary rests, but excluding
detentions and long halts, occupy 150 days. The direct longitudinal
distance from the coast is 540 geo. miles, which the sinuosities of the
road prolong to 955, or in round numbers 950 statute miles. The number
of days expended by the Expedition in actual marching was 100, of hours
420, which gives a rate of 2·27 miles per hour. The total time was seven
and a-half months, from the 27th June, 1857, to the 18th February, 1858;
thus the number of the halts exceeded by one-third the number of the
marches. In practice Arab caravans seldom arrive at the Tanganyika, for
reasons before alluded to, under a total period of six months. Those
lightly laden may make Unyanyembe in between two and a-half and three
months, and from Unyanyembe Ujiji in twenty-five stages, which would
reduce their journey to four months.

Dapper (‘Beschryving van Afrika,’ Amst. 1671) asserts that the “blacks
of Pombo, _i. e._ the Pombeiros, or native travellers of W. Africa, when
asked respecting the distance of the lake, say that it is at least a
sixty days’ journey, going constantly eastwards.” But the total breadth
of the continent between Mbuamaji and Loanda being, in round numbers,
1560 geographical miles, this estimate would give a marching rate of
twenty-six geographical and rectilinear miles (or, allowing for
deviation, thirty-six statute miles) per diem. When Da Couto (1565),
quoting the information procured by Francisco Barreto, during his
expedition in 1570, from some Moors (Arabs or Wasawahili) at Patta and
elsewhere, says that “from Kilwa or Atondo (that is to say, the country
of the Watondwe) the other sea of Angola might be reached with a journey
of fifteen or twenty (150 or 200?) leagues,” he probably alludes to the
Nyassa Lake, lying south-westwards of Kilwa, not to the Tanganyika. Mr.
Cooley gives one itinerary, by Mohammed bin Nasur, an old Arab merchant,
enumerating seventy-one marches from Buromaji (Mbuamaji) to Oha (Uhha),
and a total of eighty-three from the coast to the lake; and a second by
a native of Monomoezi, Lief bin Said (a misprint for Khalaf bin Saíd?)
sixty-two to Ogara (Ugala), which is placed four or five days from Oha.
In another page he remarks that “from Buromaji, near Point Puna, to Oha
in Monomoezi is a journey of seventy-nine, or, in round numbers, eighty
days, the shores of the lake being still six or eight days distant.”
This is the closest estimate yet made. Mr. Macqueen, from the itinerary
of Lief bin Said, estimates the lake, from the mouth of the river
Pangani, at 604 miles, and seventy-one days of total march. It is
evident, from the preceding pages, that African authorities have
hitherto confounded the Nyanza, the Tanganyika, and the Nyassa Lakes.
Still, in the estimate of the distance between the coast and Ujiji there
is a remarkable and a most deceptive coherence.

Ujiji--also called Manyofo, which appears, however, peculiar to a
certain sultanat or district--is the name of a province, not, as has
been represented, of a single town. It was first visited by the Arabs
about 1840; ten years after that they had penetrated to Unyamwezi; they
found it conveniently situated as a mart upon the Tanganyika Lake, and a
central point where their depôts might be established, and whence their
factors and slaves could navigate the waters, and collect slaves and
ivory from the tribes upon its banks. But the climate proved unhealthy,
the people dangerous, and the coasting-voyages frequently ended in
disaster; Ujiji, therefore, never rose to the rank of Unyanyembe or
Msene. At present it is visited during the fair season, from May to
September, by flying caravans, who return to Unyanyembe as soon as they
have loaded their porters.

Abundant humidity and a fertile soil, evidenced by the large forest
trees and the abundance of ferns, render Ujiji the most productive
province in this section of Africa: vegetables, which must elsewhere be
cultivated, here seem to flourish almost spontaneously. Rice of
excellent quality was formerly raised by the Arabs upon the shores of
the Tanganyika; it grew luxuriantly, attaining, it is said, the height
of eight or nine feet. The inhabitants, however, preferring sorghum, and
wearied out by the depredations of the monkey, the elephant, and the
hippopotamus, have allowed the more civilised cereal to degenerate. The
principal grains are the holcus and the Indian nagli or nanchni
(Eleusine coracano); there is no bajri (panicum or millet) in these
regions; the pulses are phaseoli and the voandzeia, groundnuts, beans,
and haricots of several different species. The manioc, egg-plant, and
sweet-potato, the yam, the cucumber, an edible white fungus growing
subterraneously, and the Indian variety of the Jerusalem artichoke,
represent the vegetables: the people, however, unlike the Hindus,
despise, and consequently will not be at the pains to cultivate them.
Sugar-cane, tobacco, and cotton are always purchasable in the bazar. The
fruits are the plantain and the Guinea-palm. The mdizi or plantain-tree
is apparently an aborigen of these latitudes: in certain parts, as in
Usumbara, Karagwah, and Uganda, it is the staff of life: in the hilly
countries there are, it is said, about a dozen varieties, and a single
bunch forms a load for a man. It is found in the island and on the coast
of Zanzibar, at K’hutu in the head of the alluvial valley, and, though
rarely, in the mountains of Usagara. The best fruit is that grown by the
Arabs at Unyanyembe: it is still a poor specimen, coarse and insipid,
stringy and full of seeds, and strangers rarely indulge in it, fearing
flatulence. Upon the Tanganyika Lake there is a variety called mikono
t’hembu, or elephant’s-hands, which is considerably larger than the
Indian “horse-plantain.” The skin is of a brickdust red, in places
inclining to rusty-brown; the pulp is a dull yellow, with black seeds,
and the flavour is harsh, strong, and drug-like. The Elæis Guiniensis,
locally called mchikichi, which is known by the Arabs to grow in the
islands of Zanzibar and Pemba, and more rarely in the mountains of
Usagara, springs apparently uncultivated in large dark groves on the
shores of the Tanganyika, where it hugs the margin, rarely growing at
any distance inland. The bright-yellow drupe, with shiny purple-black
point, though nauseous to the taste, is eaten by the people. The mawezi
or palm-oil, of the consistency of honey, rudely extracted, forms an
article of considerable traffic in the regions about the Lake. This is
the celebrated extract, whose various officinal uses in Europe have
already begun to work a social reformation in W. Africa. The people of
Ujiji separate, by pounding, the oily sarcocarpium from the one seed of
the drupe, boil it for some hours, allow the floating substance to
coagulate, and collect it in large earthen pots. The price is usually
about one doti of white cotton for thirty-five pounds, and the people
generally demand salt in exchange for it from caravans. This is the “oil
of a red colour” which, according to Mr. Cooley, is bought by the
Wanyamwezi “from the opposite or south-western side of the lake.”
Despite its sickly flavour, it is universally used in cooking, and it
forms the only unguent and lamp-oil in the country. This fine
Guinea-palm is also tapped, as the date in Western India, for toddy; and
the cheapness of this tembo--the sura of West Africa--accounts for the
prevalence of intoxication, and the consequent demoralisation of the
Lakist tribes.

The bazar at Ujiji is well supplied. Fresh fish of various kinds is
always procurable except during the violence of the rains: the people,
however, invariably cut it up and clean it out before bringing it to
market. Good honey abounds after the wet monsoon. By the favour of the
chief, milk and butter may be purchased every day. Long-tailed sheep and
well-bred goats, poultry and eggs--the two latter are never eaten by the
people--are brought in from the adjoining countries: the Arabs breed a
few Manilla ducks, and the people rear but will not sell pigeons. The
few herds at Ujiji which have escaped the beef-eating propensities of
the Watuta are a fine breed, originally, it is said, derived by the
Wahha from the mountains of Karagwah. Their horns in these lands appear
unusually large; their stature combines with the smallness of the hump
to render them rather like English than Indian or African cattle. They
are rarely sold of later days, except for enormous prices, an adult
slave being the lowest valuation of a cow. The cattle is never stalled
or grain-fed, and the udder is little distended; the produce is about
one quarter that of a civilised cow, and the animals give milk only
during the few first months after calving. The “tulchan” of Tibet is
apparently unknown in Central Africa; but the people are not wanting in
barbarous contrivances to persuade a stubborn animal to yield her
produce.

The fauna appear rare upon the borders of the Tanganyika: all men are
hunters; every human being loves animal food, from white ants to
elephants; the tzetze was found there, and probably the luxuriance of
the vegetation, in conjunction with the extreme humidity, tends to
diminish species and individuals. Herds of elephants exist in the
bamboo-jungles which surround the sea, but the heaps of ivory sold in
the markets of Ujiji are collected from an area containing thousands of
square miles. Hippopotami and crocodiles are common in the waters, wild
buffaloes in the plains. The hyænas are bold thieves, and the half-wild
“Pariah-dogs” that slink about the villages are little inferior as
depredators. The people sometimes make pets of them, leading them about
with cords; but they do not object to see them shot after a raid upon
the Arab’s meat, butter, or milk. These animals are rarely heard to
bark; they leave noise to the village cocks. The huts are as usual
haunted by the grey and the musk-rat. Of birds there is a fine
fish-eagle, about the size of a domestic cock, with snowy head and
shoulders relieving a sombre chocolate plume: he sits majestically
watching his prey upon the tall trees overhanging the waves of the
Tanganyika. A larus, or sea-gull, with reddish legs, lives in small
colonies upon this lake. At the end of the monsoon in 1858 these birds
were seen to collect in troops upon the sands, as they are accustomed
to do at Aden when preparing to migrate. The common kingfisher is a
large bird with a white and grey plume, a large and strong black bill,
and a crest which somewhat resembles that of the Indian bulbul: it
perches upon the branches over the waters, and in flight and habits
resembles other halcyons. A long and lank black plotus, or diver, is
often seen skimming the waters, and sandpipers run along the yellow
sands. The other birds are the white-breasted “parson-crow,” partridges,
and quails seen in Urundi; swallows in passage, curlews, motacillæ,
muscicapæ, and various passerines. Ranæ, some of them noisy in the
extreme, inhabit the sedges close to the lake. The termite does great
damage in the sweet red soils about Kawele: it is less feared when the
ground is dry and sandy. The huts are full of animal life--snakes,
scorpions, ants of various kinds, whose armies sometimes turn the
occupants out of doors; the rafters are hollowed out by xylophagous
insects; the walls are riddled by mason-bees, hideous spiders veil the
corners with thick webs, the chirp of the cricket is heard both within
and out of doors, cockroaches destroy the provisions, and large brown
mosquitoes and flies, ticks and bugs, assault the inhabitants.

The rise in the price of slaves and ivory has compelled Arab merchants,
as will be seen in another chapter, to push their explorations beyond
the Tanganyika Lake. Ujiji is, however, still the great slave-mart of
these regions, the article being collected from all the adjoining tribes
of Urundi, Uhha, Uvira, and Marungu. The native dealers, however, are so
acute, that they are rapidly ruining this their most lucrative traffic.
They sell cheaply, and think to remunerate themselves by aiding and
abetting desertion. Merchants, therefore, who do not chain or cord
together their gangs till they have reached the east bank of the
Malagarazi River, often lose 20 per cent. The prevalence of the practice
has already given Ujiji a bad name, and, if continued, will remove the
market to another place, where the people are somewhat less clever and
more sensible. It is impossible to give any idea of the average price of
the human commodity, which varies, under the modifications of demand and
supply, from two to ten doti or tobes of American domestics. Yet as
these purchases sell in Zanzibar for fourteen or fifteen dollars per
head, the trade realises nearly 500 per cent., and will, therefore, with
difficulty be put down.

The principal tribes in this region are the Wajiji, the Wavinza, the
Wakaranga, the Watuta, the Wabuha, and the Wahha.

The Wajiji are a burly race of barbarians, far stronger than the tribes
hitherto traversed, with dark skins, plain features, and straight,
sturdy limbs: they are larger and heavier men than the Wanyamwezi, and
the type, as it approaches Central Africa, becomes rather negro than
negroid.[1] Their feet and hands are large and flat, their voices are
harsh and strident, and their looks as well as their manners are
independent even to insolence. The women, who are held in high repute,
resemble, and often excel, their masters in rudeness and violence; they
think little in their cups of entering a stranger’s hut, and of
snatching up and carrying away an article which excites their
admiration. Many of both sexes, and all ages, are disfigured by the
small-pox--the Arabs have vainly taught them inoculation--and there are
few who are not afflicted by boils and various eruptions; there is also
an inveterate pandemic itch, which, according to their Arab visitors,
results from a diet of putrid fish.

  [1] My companion observes (in Blackwood, Nov. 1859), “It may be worthy
  of remark that I have always found the lighter coloured savages more
  boisterous and warlike than those of the dingier hue. The _ruddy
  black_, fleshy-looking Wazaramos and Wagogos are much _lighter_ in
  colour (!) than any of the other tribes, and certainly have a far
  superior, more manly and warlike independent spirit and bearing than
  any of the others.” The “dingiest” peoples are usually the most
  degraded, and therefore sometimes the least powerful; but the fiercest
  races in the land are the Wazaramo, the Wajiji and the Wataturu, who
  are at the same time the darkest.

This tribe is extensively tattooed, probably as a protection against the
humid atmosphere, and the chills of the Lake Region. Some of the chiefs
have ghastly scars raised by fire, in addition to large patterns marked
upon their persons--lines, circles, and rays of little cupping-cuts
drawn down the back, the stomach, and the arms, like the tattoo of the
Wangindo tribe near Kilwa. Both sexes love to appear dripping with oil;
and they manifestly do not hold cleanliness to be a virtue. The head is
sometimes shaved; rarely the hair is allowed to grow; the most
fashionable coiffure is a mixture of the two; patches and beauty-spots
in the most eccentric shapes--buttons, crescents, crests, and galeated
lines--being allowed to sprout either on the front, the sides, or the
back of the head, from a carefully-scraped scalp. Women as well as men
are fond of binding a wisp of white tree-fibre round their heads, like
the ribbon which confines the European old person’s wig. There is not a
trace of mustachio or whisker in the country; they are removed by the
tweezers, and the climate, according to the Arabs, is, like that of
Unyamwezi, unfavourable to beards. For cosmetics both sexes apply, when
they can procure such luxuries, red earth to the face, and over the head
a thick-coating of chalk or mountain-meal, which makes their blackness
stand out hideously grotesque.

The chiefs wear expensive stuffs, checks, and cottons, which they
extract from passing caravans. Women of wealth affect the tobe or
coast-dress, and some were seen wearing red and blue broadcloths. The
male costume of the lower orders is confined to softened goat, sheep,
deer, leopard, or monkey skins, tied at two corners over either
shoulder, with the flaps open at one side, and with tail and legs
dangling in the wind. Women who cannot afford cloth use as a succedaneum
a narrow kilt of fibre or skin, and some content themselves with a
tassel of fibre or a leafy twig depending from a string bound round the
waist, and displaying the nearest approach to the original fig-leaf. At
Ujiji, however, the people are observed, for the first time, to make
extensive use of the macerated tree-bark, which supplies the place of
cotton in Urundi, Karagwah, and the northern kingdoms. This article,
technically termed “mbugu,” is made from the inner bark of various
trees, especially the mrimba and the mwale, or huge Raphia-palm. The
trunk of the full-grown tree is stripped of its integument twice or
thrice, and is bound with plantain-leaves till a finer growth is judged
fit for manipulation. This bark is carefully removed, steeped in water,
macerated, kneaded, and pounded with clubs and battens to the
consistency of a coarse cotton. Palm-oil is then spirted upon it from
the mouth, and it acquires the colour of chamois-leather. The Wajiji
obtain the mbugu mostly from Urundi and Uvira. They are fond of striping
it with a black vegetable mud, so as to resemble the spoils of leopards
and wild cats, and they favour the delusion by cutting the edge into
long strips, like the tails and other extremities of wild beasts. The
price of the mbugu varies according to size, from six to twelve khete or
strings of beads. Though durable, it is never washed: after many
months’ wear the superabundance of dirt is removed by butter or ghee.

Besides the common brass-wire girdles and bracelets, armlets and
anklets, masses of white-porcelain, blue-glass, and large pigeon-egg
beads, and hundreds of the iron-wire circlets called sambo, which, worn
with ponderous brass or copper rings round the lower leg, above the
foot, suggest at a distance the idea of disease, the Wajiji are
distinguished from tribes not on the lake by necklaces of shells--small
pink bivalves strung upon a stout fibre. They have learned to make brass
from the Arabs, by melting down one-third of zinc imported from the
coast with two parts of the fine soft and red copper brought from the
country of the Kazeembe. Like their Lakist neighbours, they ornament the
throat with disks, crescents, and strings of six or seven cones,
fastened by the apex, and depending to the breast. Made of the whitest
ivory or of the teeth, not the tusks, of the hippopotamus, these
dazzling ornaments effectively set off the dark and negro-like skin.
Another peculiarity amongst these people is a pair of iron pincers or a
piece of split wood ever hanging round the neck; nor is its use less
remarkable than its presence. The Lakists rarely chew, smoke, or take
snuff according to the fashion of the rest of mankind. Every man carries
a little half-gourd or diminutive pot of black earthenware, nearly full
of tobacco; when inclined to indulge, he fills it with water, expresses
the juice, and from the palm of his hand sniffs it up into his nostrils.
The pincers serve to close the exit, otherwise the nose must be
temporarily corked by the application of finger and thumb. Without much
practice it is difficult to articulate during the retention of the dose,
which lasts a few minutes, and when an attempt is made the words are
scarcely intelligible. The arms of the Wajiji are small battle-axes and
daggers, spears, and large bows, which carry unusually heavy arrows.
They fear the gun and the sabre, yet they show no unwillingness to
fight. The Arabs avoid granting their demands for muskets and gunpowder,
consequently a great chief never possesses more than two or three
fire-locks.

The Lakists are an almost amphibious race, excellent divers, strong
swimmers and fishermen, and vigorous ichthyophagists all. At times, when
excited by the morning coolness and by the prospect of a good haul, they
indulge in a manner of merriment which resembles the gambols of sportive
water-fowls: standing upright and balancing themselves in their hollow
logs, which appear but little larger than themselves, they strike the
water furiously with their paddles, skimming over the surface, dashing
to and fro, splashing one another, urging forward, backing, and wheeling
their craft, now capsizing, then regaining their position with wonderful
dexterity. They make coarse hooks, and have many varieties of nets and
creels. Conspicuous on the waters and in the villages is the Dewa, or
“otter” of Oman, a triangle of stout reeds, which shows the position of
the net. A stronger kind, and used for the larger ground-fish, is a cage
of open basket-work, provided, like the former, with a bait and two
entrances. The fish once entangled cannot escape, and a log of wood,
used as a trimmer, attached to a float-rope of rushy plants, directs the
fisherman. The heaviest animals are caught by a rope-net--the likh of
Oman--weighted and thrown out between two boats. They have circular lath
frames, meshed in with a knot somewhat different from that generally
used in Europe; the smaller variety is thrown from the boat by a single
man, who follows it into the water,--the larger, which reaches six feet
in diameter, is lowered from the bow by cords, and collects the fish
attracted by the glaring torch-fire. The Wajiji also make large and
small drag-nets, some let down in a circle by one or more canoes, the
others managed by two fishermen, who, swimming at each end, draw them in
when ready. They have little purse-nets to catch small fry, hoops thrust
into a long stick-handle through the reed walls that line the shore; and
by this simple contrivance the fish are caught in considerable
quantities. The wigo or crates alluded to as peculiar in the ‘Periplus,’
and still common upon the Zanzibar coast, are found at the Tanganyika.
The common creel resembles the khún of Western India, and is well-known
even to the Bushmen of the South: it is a cone of open bamboo-strips or
supple twigs, placed lengthways, and bound in and out by strings of
grass or tree-fibre. It is closed at the top, and at the bottom there is
a narrow aperture, with a diagonally-disposed entrance like that of a
wire rat-trap, which prevents the fish escaping. It is placed upon its
side with a bait, embanked with mud, reeds, or sand, and seems to answer
the purpose for which it is intended. In Uzaramo and near the coast the
people narcotise fish with the juice of certain plants, asclepias and
euphorbias: about the Tanganyika the art appears unknown.

There are many varieties of fish in the waters of this Lake. The Mvoro
is a long and bony variety, in shape like a large mackerel; the Sangále
resembles it, but the head and body are thicker. The Mgege, which
suggests the Pomfret of Western India, is well flavoured, but full of
bones. The Mguhe is said to attain the length of five or six feet: it is
not unlike the kheri of the Indian rivers, and to a European palate it
is the best fish that swims in these waters. The largest is the Singá, a
scaleless variety, with black back, silvery belly, small fins, and long
fleshy cirri: it crawls along the bottom, and is unfit for leaping or
for rapid progress. This sluggish and misshapen ground-fish is much
prized by the people on account of its rich and luscious fat. Like the
Pallu of Sindh, it soon palls upon the European palate. Want of flavour
is the general complaint made by the Arabs and coast people against the
produce of the Tanganyika: they attempt to diminish the wateriness of
the fish by exposing it spitted to a slow fire, and by subsequently
stowing it for the night in well-closed earthen pots. Besides the five
varieties above alluded to, there are dwarf eels of good flavour,
resembling the Indian Bam; Dagá’a, small fish called by the Arabs
Kashu’a, minnows of many varieties, which, simply sundried, or muriated
if salt can be afforded, find their way far east; a dwarf shrimp, about
one quarter the size of the common English species; and a large bivalve
called Sinani, and identified as belonging to the genus Iridina. The
meat is fat and yellow, like that of a well-fed oyster, but it is so
insipid that none but a Mjiji can eat it. The shells collected upon the
shores of the Tanganyika and on the land journey have been described by
Mr. Samuel P. Woodward, who courteously named the species after the
European members of the Expedition. To his memoir--quoted in pages 102,
103 of this volume--the reader is referred.

The Wajiji are considered by the Arabs to be the most troublesome race
in these black regions. They are taught, by the example of their chiefs,
to be rude, insolent, and extortionate; they demand beads even for
pointing out the road; they will deride and imitate a stranger’s speech
and manner before his face; they can do nothing without a long
preliminary of the fiercest scolding; they are as ready with a blow as
with a word; and they may often be seen playing at “rough and tumble,”
fighting, pushing, and tearing hair, in their boats. A Mjiji uses his
dagger or his spear upon a guest with little hesitation; he thinks
twice, however, before drawing blood, if it will cause a feud. Their
roughness of manner is dashed with a curious ceremoniousness. When the
sultan appears amongst his people, he stands in a circle and claps his
hands, to which all respond in the same way. Women curtsy to one
another, bending the right knee almost to the ground. When two men meet
they clasp each other’s arms with both hands, rubbing them up and down,
and ejaculating for some minutes, “Nama sanga? nama sanga?--art thou
well?” They then pass the hands down to the forearm, exclaiming “Wákhe?
wákhe?--how art thou?” and finally they clap palms at each other, a
token of respect which appears common to these tribes of Central Africa.
The children have all the frowning and unprepossessing look of their
parents; they reject little civilities, and seem to spend life in
disputes, biting and clawing like wild cats. There appears to be little
family affection in this undemonstrative race. The only endearment
between father and son is a habit of scratching and picking each other,
caused probably by the prevalence of a complaint before alluded to; as
amongst the Simiads, the intervals between pugnacity are always spent in
exercising the nails. Sometimes, also, at sea, when danger is near, the
Mjiji breaks the mournful silence of his fellows, who are all thinking
of home, with the exclamation, “Yá mgúri wánje!--O my wife!” They are
never sober when they can be drunk; perhaps in no part of the world
will the traveller more often see men and women staggering about the
village with thick speech and violent gestures. The favourite inebrient
is tembo or palm-toddy; almost every one, however, even when on board
the canoe, smokes bhang, and the whooping and screaming which follow the
indulgence resemble the noise of wild beasts rather than the sounds of
human beings. Their food consists principally of holcus, manioc, and
fish, which is rarely eaten before it becomes offensive to European
organs.

The great Mwami or Sultan of Ujiji in 1858-59 was Rusimba. Under him
were several mutware (mutwale) or minor chiefs, one to each settlement,
as Kannena in Kawele and Lurinda in Gungu. On the arrival of a caravan,
Rusimba forwards, through his relations, a tusk or two of ivory, thus
mutely intimating that he requires his blackmail, which he prefers to
receive in beads and kitindi or coil-bracelets, proportioning, however,
his demand to the trader’s means. When this point has been settled, the
mutware sends his present, and expects a proportionate return. He is,
moreover, entitled to a fee for every canoe hired; on each slave the
kiremba or excise is about half the price; from one to two cloths are
demanded upon every tusk of ivory; and he will snatch a few beads from a
man purchasing provisions for his master. The minor headmen are fond of
making “sare” or brotherhood with strangers, in order to secure them in
case of return. They depend for influence over their unruly subjects
wholly upon personal qualifications, bodily strength, and violence of
temper. A chief, though originally a slave, may “win golden opinions” by
his conduct when in liquor: he assumes the most ferocious aspect, draws
his dagger, brandishes his spear, and, with loud screams, rushes at his
subjects as intent upon annihilating them. The affairs of the nation
are settled by the mwami, the chief, in a general council of the lieges,
the wateko (in the singular mteko) or elders presiding. Their
intellects, never of the brightest, are invariably fuddled with toddy,
and, after bawling for hours together and coming apparently to the most
satisfactory conclusion, the word of a boy or of an old woman will
necessitate another lengthy palaver. The sultans, like their subjects,
brook no delay in their own affairs; they impatiently dun a stranger
half-a-dozen times a day for a few beads, while they patiently keep him
waiting for weeks on occasions to him of the highest importance, whilst
they are drinking pombe or taking leave of their wives. Besides the
magubiko or preliminary presents, the chiefs are bound, before the
departure of a caravan which has given them satisfaction, to supply it
with half-a-dozen masuta or matted packages of grain, and to present the
leader with a slave, who generally manages to abscond. The parting gifts
are technically called “urangozi,” or guidance.

Under the influence of slavery the Wajiji have made no progress in the
art of commerce. They know nothing of bargaining or of credit: they will
not barter unless the particular medium upon which they have set their
hearts is forthcoming; and they fix a price according to their wants,
not to the value of the article. The market varies with the number of
caravans present at the depôt, the season, the extent of supply, and a
variety of similar considerations. Besides the trade in ivory, slaves,
bark, cloth, and palm-oil, they manufacture and hawk about iron sickles
shaped like the European, kengere, kiugi, or small bells, and sambo,
locally called tambi, or wire circlets, worn as ornaments round the
ankles; long double-edged knives in wooden sheaths, neatly whipped with
strips of rattan; and jembe or hoes. Of bells a dozen were purchased in
March and April of 1858 for two fundo of white beads. Jembe and large
sime averaged also two fundo. Of good sambo 100, and of the inferior
quality 200, were procurable for a fundo. The iron is imported in a
rough state from Uvira. The value of a goat was one shukkah, which here
represents, as in Unyamwezi, twelve feet, or double the length of the
shukkah in other regions, the single cloth being called lupande, or
upande. Sheep, all of a very inferior quality, cost somewhat more than
goats. A hen, or from five to six eggs, fetched one khete of samesame,
or red-coral beads, which are here worth three times the quantity of
white porcelain. Large fish, or those above two pounds in weight, were
sold for three khete; the small fry--the white bait of this region--one
khete per two pounds; and diminutive shrimps one khete per three pounds.
Of plantains, a small bunch of fifteen, and of sweet potatoes and yams
from ten to fifteen roots, were purchased for a khete; of artichokes,
egg-plants, and cucumbers, from fifty to one hundred. The wild
vegetables generically called mboga are the cheapest of these esculents.
Beans, phaseoli, ground-nuts, and the voandzeia, were expensive,
averaging about two pounds per khete. Rice is not generally grown in
Ujiji; a few measures of fine white grain were purchased at a fancy
price from one Sayfu bin Hasani, a pauper Msawahili, from the isle of
Chole, settled in the country. The sugar-cane is poor and watery, it was
sold in lengths of four or five feet for the khete: one cloth and two
khete purchased three pounds of fine white honey. Tobacco was
comparatively expensive. Of the former a shukkah procured a bag weighing
perhaps ten pounds. Milk was sold at arbitrary prices, averaging about
three teacups for the khete. A shukkah would procure three pounds of
butter, and ghee was not made for the market. It was impossible to find
sweet toddy, as the people never smoke nor clean the pots into which it
is drawn; of the acid and highly intoxicating drink used by the Wajiji,
from five to six teacups were to be bought with a khete. Firewood, being
imported, was expensive, a khete being the price of a little faggot
containing from fifty to one hundred sticks. About one pound of unclean
cotton was to be purchased for three khete of samesame. It must be
observed, that this list of prices, which represents the market at
Kawele, gives a high average, many of the articles being brought in
canoes from considerable distances, and even from the opposite coast.

The traveller in the Lake Regions loses by cloth; the people, contented
with softened skins and tree-bark, prefer beads, ornaments, and more
durable articles: on the other hand, he gains upon salt, which is
purchased at half-price at the Parugerero Pan, and upon large wires
brought from the coast. Beads are a necessary evil to those engaged in
purchasing ivory and slaves. In 1858 the Wajiji rejected with contempt
the black porcelains, called ububu. At first they would not receive the
khanyera, or white-porcelains; and afterwards, when the Expedition had
exchanged, at a considerable loss, their large stock for langiyo, or
small blues, they demanded the former. The bead most in fashion was the
mzizima, or large blue-glass, three khete of which were equivalent to a
small cloth; the samesame, or red-corals, required to be exchanged for
mzizima, of which one khete was an equivalent to three of samesame. The
maguru nzige, or pink porcelains, were at par. The tobacco-stem bead,
called sofi, and current at Msene, was in demand. The reader will
excuse the prolixity of these wearisome details, they are necessary
parts of a picture of manners and customs in Central Africa. Moreover, a
foreknowledge of the requirements of the people is a vital condition of
successful exploration. There is nothing to arrest the traveller’s
progress in this section of the African interior except the failure of
his stores.

A serious inconvenience awaits the inexperienced, who find a long halt
at, and a return from, Ujiji necessary. The Wanyamwezi pagazi, or
porters, hired at Unyanyembe, bring with them the cloth and beads which
they have received as hire for going to and coming from the lake, and
lose no time in bartering the outfit for ivory or slaves. Those who
prefer the former article will delay for some time with extreme
impatience and daily complaints, fearing to cross Uvinza in small bodies
when loaded with valuables. The purchasers of slaves, however, knowing
that they will inevitably lose them after a few days at Ujiji, desert at
once. In all cases, the report that a caravan is marching eastwards
causes a general disappearance of the porters. As the Wajiji will not
carry, the caravan is reduced to a halt, which may be protracted for
months, in fact, till another body of men coming from the east will
engage themselves as return porters. Moreover, the departure homewards
almost always partakes of the nature of a flight, so fearful are the
strangers lest their slaves should seize the opportunity to desert. The
Omani Arabs obviate these inconveniences by always travelling with large
bodies of domestics, whose interest it is not to abandon the master.

South of the Wajiji lie the Wakaranga, a people previously described as
almost identical in development and condition, but somewhat inferior in
energy and civilisation. Little need be said of the Wavinza, who appear
to unite the bad qualities of both the Wanyamwezi and the Ujiji. They
are a dark, meagre, and ill-looking tribe; poorly clad in skin aprons
and kilts. They keep off insects by inserting the chauri, or fly-flap,
into the waistband of their kilts: and at a distance they present, like
the Hottentots, the appearance of a race with tails. Their arms are
spears, bows, and arrows; and they use, unlike their neighbours,
wicker-work shields six feet long by two in breadth. Their chiefs are of
the Watosi race, hence every stranger who meets with their approbation
is called, in compliment, Mtosi. They will admit strangers into their
villages, dirty clumps of beehive huts; but they refuse to provide them
with lodging. Merchants with valuable outfits prefer the jungle, and
wait patiently for provisions brought in baskets from the settlements.
The Wavinza seldom muster courage to attack a caravan, but stragglers
are in imminent danger of being cut off by them. Their country is rich
in cattle and poultry, grain and vegetables. Bhang grows everywhere near
the settlements, and they indulge themselves in it immoderately.

The Watuta--a word of fear in these regions--are a tribe of robbers
originally settled upon the southern extremity of the Tanganyika Lake.
After plundering the lands of Marungu and Ufipa, where they almost
annihilated the cattle, the Watuta, rounding the eastern side of the
Lake, migrated northwards. Some years ago they were called in by Ironga,
the late Sultan of U’ungu, to assist him against Mui’ Gumbi, the
powerful chief of the Warori. The latter were defeated, after obstinate
fighting for many months. After conquering the Warori, the Watuta
settled in Sultan Ironga’s lands, rather by might than right, and they
were expelled by his son with the greatest difficulty. From U’ungu their
next step was to the southern bank of the Malagarazi River. About three
years ago this restless tribe was summoned by Mzogera, the present
Sultan of Uvinza, to assist him in seizing Uhha, which had just lost
T’háre, its chief. The Watuta crossed the Malagarazi, laid waste the
lands of Uhha and Ubuha, and desolated the northern region between the
river and the lake. Shortly afterwards they attacked Msene, and were
only repulsed by the matchlocks of the Arabs, after a week of hard
skirmishing. In the early part of 1858 they slew Ruhembe, the Sultan of
Usui, a district north of Unyanyembe, upon the road to Karagwah. In the
latter half of the same year they marched upon Ujiji, plundered Gungu,
and proceeded to attack Kawele. The Arab merchants, however, who were
then absent on a commercial visit to Uviva, returned precipitately to
defend their depôts, and with large bodies of slave musketeers beat off
the invader. The lands of the Watuta are now bounded on the north by
Utumbara, on the south by Msene; eastwards by the meridian of
Wilyankuru, and westwards by the highlands of Urundi.

The Watuta, according to the Arabs, are a pastoral tribe, despising,
like the Wamasai and the Somal, such luxuries as houses and fields; they
wander from place to place, camping under trees, over which they throw
their mats, and driving their herds and plundered cattle to the most
fertile pasture-grounds. The dress is sometimes a mbugu or bark-cloth;
more generally it is confined to the humblest tribute paid to decency by
the Kafirs of the Cape, and they have a similar objection to removing
it. On their forays they move in large bodies, women as well as men,
with the children and baggage placed upon bullocks, and their wealth in
brass wire twisted round the horns. Their wives carry their weapons, and
join, it is said, in the fight. The arms are two short spears, one in
the right hand, the other in the left, concealed by a large shield, so
that they can thrust upwards unawares: disdaining bows and arrows, they
show their superior bravery by fighting at close quarters, and they
never use the spear as an assegai. In describing their tactics, the
Arabs call them “manœuvrers like the Franks.” Their thousands march in
four or five extended lines, and attack by attempting to envelop the
enemy. There is no shouting nor war-cry to distract the attention of the
combatants: iron whistles are used for the necessary signals. During the
battle the sultan, or chief, whose ensign is a brass stool, sits
attended by his forty or fifty elders in the rear; his authority is
little more than nominal, the tribe priding itself upon autonomy. The
Watuta rarely run away, and take no thought of their killed and wounded.
They do not, like the ancient Jews, and the Gallas and Abyssinians of
the present day, carry off a relic of the slain foe; in fact, the custom
seems to be ignored south of the equator. The Watuta have still however
a wholesome fear of fire-arms, and the red flag of a caravan causes them
to decamp without delay. According to the Arabs they are not
inhospitable, and though rough in manner they have always received
guests with honour. A fanciful trait is related concerning them: their
first question to a stranger will be, “Didst thou see me from
afar?”--which, being interpreted, means, Did you hear of my greatness
before coming here?--and they hold an answer in the negative to be a
casus belli.

Remain for consideration the people of Ubuha and Uhha. The Wabuha is a
small and insignificant tribe bounded on the north by Uhha, and on the
south by the Malagarazi River: the total breadth is about three marches;
the length, from the Rusugi stream of the Wavinza to the frontiers of
Ujiji and Ukaranga, is in all a distance of four days. Their principal
settlement is Uyonwa, the district of Sultan Mariki: it is a mere
clearing in the jungle, with a few pauper huts dotting fields of sweet
potatoes. This harmless and oppressed people will sell provisions, but
though poor they are particular upon the subject of beads, preferring
coral and blue to the exclusion of black and white. They are a dark,
curly-headed, and hard-favoured race: they wear the shushah or top-knot
on the poll, dress in skins and tree-barks, ornament themselves with
brass and copper armlets, ivory disks, and beads, and are never without
their weapons, spears and assegais, sime or daggers, and small
battle-axes. Honourable women wear tobes of red broadcloth and fillets
of grass or fibre confining the hair.

Uhha, written by Mr. Cooley Oha, was formerly a large tract of land
bounded on the north by the mountains of Urundi, southwards and
eastwards by the Malagarazi River, and on the west by the northern parts
of Ujiji. As has been recounted, the Wahha dispersed by the Watuta have
dispersed themselves over the broad lands between Unyanyembe and the
Tanganyika, and their own fertile country, well stocked with the finest
cattle, has become a waste of jungle. A remnant of the tribe, under
Kanoni, their present Sultan, son of the late T’háre, took refuge in
the highlands of Urundi, not far from the principal settlement of the
mountain king Mwezí: here they find water and pasture for their herds,
and the strength of the country enables them to beat off their enemies.
The Wahha are a comparatively fair and a not uncomely race; they are
however universally held to be a vile and servile people; according to
the Arabs they came originally from the southern regions, the most
ancient seat of slavery in E. Africa. Their Sultans or chiefs are of
Wahinda or princely origin, probably descendants from the regal race of
Unyamwezi. Wahha slaves sell dearly at Msene; an adult male costs from
five to six doti merkani, and a full-grown girl one gorah merkani or
kaniki.

[Illustration: Head Dresses of Wanyamwezi.]




CHAP. XIV.

WE EXPLORE THE TANGANYIKA LAKE.


My first care after settling in Hamid’s Tembe, was to purify the floor
by pastiles of assafœtida, and fumigations of gunpowder; my second was
to prepare the roof for the rainy season. Improvement, however,
progressed slowly; the “children” of Said bin Salim were too lazy to
work; and the Wanyamwezi porters, having expended their hire in slaves,
and fearing loss by delay, took the earliest opportunity of deserting.
By the aid of a Msawahili artisan, I provided a pair of cartels, with
substitutes for chairs and tables. Benches of clay were built round the
rooms, but they proved useless, being found regularly every morning
occupied in force by a swarming, struggling colony, of the largest white
ants. The roof, long overgrown with tall grass, was fortified with an
extra coat of mud; it never ceased, however, leaking like a colander;
presently the floor was covered with deep puddles, then masses of earth
dropped from the sopped copings and sides of the solid walls, and, at
last, during the violent showers, half the building fell in. The
consequence of the extreme humidity was, that every book which had
English paste in it was rendered useless by decay; writing was rendered
illegible by stains and black mildew; moreover, during my absence,
whilst exploring the Lake, Said bin Salim having neglected to keep a
fire, as was ordered, constantly burning in the house, a large botanical
collection was irretrievably lost. This was the more regretable as our
return to the coast took place during the dry season, when the woods
were bare of leaf, flower, and fruit.

On the second day after my arrival I was called upon by “Kannena,” the
headman of Kawele, under Rusimba, the Mwami, or principal chief of
Ujiji. I had heard a bad account of the former. His predecessor, Kabeza,
a great favourite with the Arabs, had died about two months before we
entered Kawele, leaving a single son, hardly ten years old, and Kannena,
a slave, having the art to please the widows of the deceased, and,
through them, the tribe, caused himself to be elected temporary headman
during the heir’s minority. He was introduced habited in silk turban and
broadcloth coat, which I afterwards heard he had borrowed from the
Baloch, in order to put in a prepossessing first appearance. The effort,
however, failed; his aspect was truly ignoble; a short, squat, and
broad-backed figure, with natural “plumpers,” a black skin cut and
carved in various patterns, thick straight, stumpy, legs, and huge splay
feet; his low narrow brow was ever knotted into a peevish frown, his
apology for a nose much resembled the pug with which the ancients
provided Silenus, and a villanous expression lurked about the depressed
corners of his thick-lipped, sensual, liquorish mouth. On this occasion
he behaved with remarkable civility, and he introduced, as the envoys
commissioned by the great Rusimba to receive his blackmail, two
gentlemen a quarter-clad in the greasiest and scantiest bark-aprons, and
armed with dwarfish battle-axes. The present was finally settled at ten
coil-bracelets and two fundi of coral-beads. I had no salt--the first
article in demand--to spare, or much valuable merchandise might have
been saved. The return was six small bundles of grain, worth, probably,
one-tenth of what had been received. Then Kannena opened trade by
sending us a nominal gift, a fine ivory, weighing at least seventy
pounds, and worth, perhaps, one hundred pounds, or nearly two mens’
loads of the white or blue-porcelain beads used in this traffic. After
keeping it for a day or two, I returned it, excusing myself by saying
that, having visited the Tanganyika as a “Sarkal,” I could have no
dealings in ivory and slaves.

This was right and proper in the character of a “Sarkal.” But future
adventurers are strongly advised always to assume the character of
traders. In the first place, it explains the traveller’s motives to the
people, who otherwise lose themselves in a waste of wild conjecture.
Secondly, under this plea, the explorer can push forward into unknown
countries; he will be civilly received, and lightly fined, because the
hosts expect to see him or his semblables again; whereas, appearing
without ostensible motive amongst them, he would be stripped of his
last cloth by recurring confiscations, fines, and every annoyance which
greed of gain can suggest. Thus, as the sequel will prove, he loses more
by overcharges than by the trifling outlay necessary to support the
character of a trader. He travels respectably as a “Mundewa” or “Tajir,”
a merchant, which is ever the highest title given by the people to
strangers; and he can avoid exciting the jealousy of the Arabs by
exchanging his tusks with them at a trifling loss when comforts or
provisions are required for the road.

So strange an announcement on my part aroused, as may be supposed, in
the minds of the Wajiji marvel, doubt, disbelief, ill-will. “These are
men who live by doing nothing!” exclaimed the race commercial as the
sons of Hamburg; and they lost no time in requesting me to quit their
territory sooner than convenient. To this I objected, offering, however,
as compensation for the loss of their octrois and perquisites to pay for
not trading what others paid for trading. Kannena roughly informed me
that he had a claim for Kiremba, or duties upon all purchases and sales;
two cloths, for instance, per head of slave, or per elephant’s tusk; and
that, as he expected to gain nothing by brokerage from me, he must
receive as compensation, four coil-bracelets and six cotton cloths.
These were at once forwarded to him. He then evidenced his ill-will in
various ways, and his people were not slow in showing the dark side of
their character. They threatened to flog Sayfu, the old Msawahili of
Chole, for giving me hints concerning prices. The two surviving riding
asses were repeatedly wounded with spears. Thieves broke into the
outhouses by night, and stole all the clothes belonging to the Jemadar
and to the bull-headed slave Mabruki. At first the widows of the late
Kabeza, to whom the only cows in the district belonged, supplied us
plentifully with milk; gradually the quantity shrank, whenever an
opportunity offered it was “cut off;” and, at last, we could no longer
afford the exorbitant price demanded. My companion having refused a
cheese to Kannena, the dowager ladies, who owned the cows, when applied
to for milk, threw away the vessel, and swore that by boiling what ought
to be drunk unboiled, we were manifestly bewitching and killing their
cattle. On one occasion, a young person related to Rusimba went to the
huts of the Baloch, and, snatching up a fine cloth which she clasped to
her bosom, defied them to recover it by force, and departed, declaring
that it was a fine for bringing “whites” into the country. At first our
heroes spoke of much slaughter likely to arise from such procedure, and
with theatrical gesture, made “_rapière au vent_;” presently
second-thoughts suggested how beautiful is peace, and thirdly, they
begged so hard, that I was compelled to ransom for them the article
purloined. I had unwittingly incurred the animosity of Kennena. On the
day after his appearance in rich clothing he had entered unannounced
with bare head, a spear or two in hand, and a bundle of wild-cats’ skins
by way of placket; not being recognised, he was turned out, and the
ejectment mortally offended his dignity. Still other travellers fared
even worse than we did. Said bin Majid, who afterwards arrived at Ujiji
to trade for ivory and slaves, had two followers wounded by the Wajiji,
one openly speared in the bazaar, and the other at night by a thief who
was detected digging through the wall of the store-hut.

After trade was disposed of, ensued a general Bakhshish. Nothing of the
kind had been contemplated or prepared for at Zanzibar, but before
leaving Unyanyembe, I had found it necessary to offer an inducement, and
now the promise was to be fulfilled. Moreover, most of the party had
behaved badly, and in these exceptional lands, bad behaviour always
expects a reward. In the first place, says the Oriental, no man
misconducts himself unless he has power to offend you and you are
powerless to punish him. Secondly, by “petting” the offender, he may be
bribed to conduct himself decently. On the other hand, the Eastern
declares, by rewarding, praising, or promoting a man who has already
satisfied you, you do him no good, and you may do him great harm. The
boy Faraj, who had shamelessly deserted his master, Said bin Salim, was
afterwards found at Unyanyembe, in Snay bin Amir’s house, handsomely
dressed and treated like a guest; and his patron, forgetting all his
stern resolves of condign punishment, met him with a peculiar kindness.
I gave to the Baloch forty-five cloths, and to each slave, male and
female, a pair. The gratification, however, proved somewhat like that
man’s liberality who, according to the old satirist, presented fine
apparel to those whom he wished to ruin. Our people recklessly spent all
their Bakhshish in buying slaves, who generally deserted after a week,
leaving the unhappy ex-proprietor tantalised by all the torments of
ungratified acquisitiveness.

At first the cold damp climate of the Lake Regions did not agree with
us; perhaps, too, the fish diet was over-rich and fat, and the abundance
of vegetables led to little excesses. All energy seemed to have
abandoned us. I lay for a fortnight upon the earth, too blind to read or
write, except with long intervals, too weak to ride, and too ill to
converse. My companion, who, when arriving at the Tanganyika Lake was
almost as “groggy” upon his legs as I was, suffered from a painful
ophthalmia, and from a curious distortion of face, which made him chew
sideways, like a ruminant. Valentine was nearly blind; and he also had a
wry mouth, by no means the properest for the process of mastication.
Gaetano, who arrived at Ujiji on the 17th February, was half-starved,
and his anxiety to make up for lost time brought on a severe attack of
fever. The Baloch complained of influenzas and catarrhs: too lazy to
build huts after occupying Kannena’s “Traveller’s Bungalow” for the
usual week, they had been turned out in favour of fresh visitors, and
their tempers were as sore as their lungs and throats.

But work remained undone; it was necessary to awake from this lethargy.
Being determined to explore the northern extremity of the Tanganyika
Lake, whence, according to several informants, issued a large river,
flowing northwards, and seeing scanty chance of success, and every
prospect of an accident, if compelled to voyage in the wretched canoes
of the people, I at first resolved to despatch Said bin Salim across the
water, and, by his intervention, to hire from an Arab merchant, Hamid
bin Sulayyam, the only dow, or sailing-craft then in existence. But the
little Arab evidently shirked the mission, and he shirked so
artistically, that, after a few days, I released him, and directed my
companion to do his best about hiring the dow, and stocking it with
provisions for a month’s cruise.

Then arose the preliminary difficulties of the trip. Kannena and all his
people, suspecting that my only object was economy in purchasing
provisions, opposed the project; they demanded exorbitant sums, and
often when bargained down and apparently satisfied, they started up and
rushed away, declaring that they washed their hands of the business. At
length, Lurinda, the neighbouring headman, was persuaded to supply a
Nakhoda and a crew of twenty men. An Arab pays on these occasions,
besides rations, ten per cent. upon merchandise; the white men were
compelled to give four coil-bracelets and eight cloths for the canoe;
besides which, the crew received, as hire, six coil-bracelets, and to
each individual provisions for eight days, and twenty khete of large
blue-glass beads, and small blue-porcelains were issued. After many
delays, my companion set out on the 2nd of March, in the vilest weather,
and spent the first stormy day near the embouchure of the Ruche River,
within cannon shot of Kawele. This halt gave our persecutors time to
change their minds once more, and again to forbid the journey. I was
compelled to purchase their permission by sending to Kannena an
equivalent of what had been paid for the canoe to Lurinda, viz. four
coil-bracelets and eight cloths. Two days afterwards my companion,
supplied with an ample outfit, and accompanied by two Baloch and his
men--Gaetano and Bombay--crossed the bay of Ukaranga, and made his final
departure for the islands.

During my twenty-seven days of solitude the time sped quickly; it was
chiefly spent in eating and drinking, smoking and dozing. Awaking at 2
or 3 A.M., I lay anxiously expecting the grey light creeping through the
door-chinks and making darkness visible; the glad tidings of its
approach were announced by the cawing of the crows and the crowing of
the village cocks. When the golden rays began to stream over the red
earth, the torpid Valentine was called up; he brought with him a mess of
Suji, or rice-flour boiled in water, with a little cold milk as a
relish. Then entered Muhabanya, the “slavey” of the establishment, armed
with a leafy branch to sweep the floor, and to slay the huge wasps that
riddled the walls of the tenement. This done he lit the fire--the
excessive damp rendered this precaution necessary--and sitting over it
he bathed his face and hands--luxurious dog!--in the pungent smoke.
Ensued visits of ceremony from Said bin Salim and the Jemadar, who sat,
stared, and, somewhat disappointed at seeing no fresh symptoms of
approaching dissolution, told me so with their faces, and went away.
From 7 A.M. till 9 A.M., the breakfast hour, Valentine was applied to
tailoring, gun-cleaning, and similar light work, over which he groaned
and grumbled, whilst I settled down to diaries and vocabularies, a
process interrupted by sundry pipes. Breakfast was again a mess of Suji
and milk,--such civilised articles as tea, coffee, and sugar, had been
unknown to me for months. Again the servants resumed their labour, and
they worked, with the interval of two hours for sleep at noon, till 4
P.M. During this time the owner lay like a log upon his cot, smoking
almost uninterruptedly, dreaming of things past, and visioning things
present, and sometimes indulging himself in a few lines of reading and
writing.

Dinner was an alternation of fish and fowl, game and butchers’ meat
being rarely procurable at Ujiji. The fish were in two extremes, either
insipid and soft, or so fat and coarse that a few mouthfuls sufficed;
most of them resembled the species seen in the seas of Western India,
and the eels and small shrimps recalled memories of Europe. The poultry,
though inferior to that of Unyanyembe, was incomparably better than the
lean stringy Indian chicken. The vegetables were various and plentiful,
tomatoes, Jerusalem artichokes, sweet potatoes, yams, and several kinds
of beans, especially a white harricot, which afforded many a _purée_;
the only fruit procurable was the plantain, and the only drink--the
toddy being a bad imitation of vinegar--was water.

As evening approached I made an attempt to sit under the broad eaves of
the Tembe, and to enjoy the delicious spectacle of this virgin Nature,
and the reveries to which it gave birth.

  “A pleasing land of drowsihed it was,
     Of dreams that wave before the half-shut eye,
   And of gay castles in the clouds that pass,
     For ever flushing round a summer sky.”

It reminded me of the loveliest glimpses of the Mediterranean; there
were the same “laughing tides,” pellucid sheets of dark blue water,
borrowing their tints from the vinous shores beyond; the same purple
light of youth upon the cheek of the earlier evening, the same bright
sunsets, with their radiant vistas of crimson and gold opening like the
portals of a world beyond the skies; the same short-lived grace and
loveliness of the twilight; and, as night closed over the earth, the
same cool flood of transparent moonbeam, pouring on the tufty heights
and bathing their sides with the whiteness of virgin snow.

At 7 P.M., as the last flush faded from the occident, the lamp--a wick
in a broken pot full of palm oil--was brought in; Said bin Salim
appeared to give the news of the day,--how A. had abused B., and how C.
had nearly been beaten by D., and a brief conversation led to the hour
of sleep. A dreary, dismal day, you will exclaim, gentle reader; a day
that

    “lasts out a night in Russia,
  When nights are longest there.”

Yet it had its enjoyments. There were no post-offices, and this African
Eden had other advantages, which, probably, I might vainly attempt to
describe.

On the 29th of March the rattling of matchlocks announced my companion’s
return. The Masika had done its worst upon him. I never saw a man so
thoroughly moist and mildewed; he justified even the French phrase “wet
to the bone.” His paraphernalia were in a similar state; his guns were
grained with rust, and his fire-proof powder-magazine had admitted the
monsoon-rain. I was sorely disappointed: he had done literally nothing.
About ten days before his return I had been visited by Khamis bin Jumah,
an Arab merchant, who, on the part of the proprietor of the dow, gave
the gratifying message that we could have it when we pleased. I cannot
explain where the mismanagement lay; it appears, however, that the wily
“son of Sulayyam” detained the traveller simply for the purpose of
obtaining from him gratis a little gunpowder. My companion had rested
content with the promise that after three months the dow should be let
to us for a sum of 500 dollars! and he had returned without boat or
provisions to report ill success. The faces of Said bin Salim and the
Jemadar, when they heard the period mentioned, were indeed a study. I
consoled him and myself as I best could, and applied myself to supplying
certain deficiencies as regards orthography and syntax in a diary which
appeared in Blackwood, of September 1859, under the title “Journal of a
Cruise in the Tanganyika Lake, Central Africa.” I must confess, however,
my surprise at, amongst many other things, the vast horseshoe of lofty
mountain placed by my companion in the map attached to that paper, near
the very heart of Sir R. Murchison’s Depression. As this wholly
hypothetical, or rather inventive feature,--I had seen the mountains
growing upon paper under my companion’s hand, from a thin ridge of hill
fringing the Tanganyika to the portentous dimensions given in Blackwood
(Sept. 1859), and Dr. Petermann’s Mittheilungen, (No. 9, of 1859,)--wore
a crescent form, my companion gravely published, with all the pomp of
discovery, in the largest capitals, “This mountain range I consider to
be THE TRUE MOUNTAINS OF THE MOON.” * * * Thus men _do_ geography! and
thus discovery is stultified.

When my companion had somewhat recovered from his wetness, and from the
effects of punching-in with a pen-knife a beetle which had visited his
tympanum[2], I began seriously to seek some means of exploring the
northern head of the Tanganyika. Hamid bin Sulayyam had informed his
late guest that he had visited the place, where, although attacked by an
armada of thirty or forty hostile canoes, he had felt the influence of a
large river, which drains the water northwards: in fact, he told the
“lie with circumstance.” By a curious coincidence, Sayfu, the Mswahili
of Chole, declared that he also had sighted a stream issuing from the
northern extremity of the lake--this was the “lie direct”--and he
offered to accompany me as guide and interpreter. When we compared
statements, we saw what was before us,--a prize for which wealth,
health, and life, were to be risked.

  [2] My companion gives in Blackwood, Sept. 1859, the following
  description of his untoward accident:--“This day (that of his arrival
  at the isle of Kivira) passed in rest and idleness, recruiting from
  our late exertions. At night a violent storm of rain and wind beat on
  my tent with such fury that its nether parts were torn away from the
  pegs, and the tent itself was only kept upright by sheer force. On the
  wind’s abating, a candle was lighted to rearrange the kit, and in a
  moment, as though by magic, the whole interior became covered with a
  host of small black beetles, evidently attracted by the glimmer of the
  candle. They were so annoyingly determined in their choice of place
  for peregrinating, that it seemed hopeless my trying to brush them off
  the clothes or bedding, for as one was knocked aside another came on,
  and then another, till at last, worn out, I extinguished the candle,
  and with difficulty--trying to overcome the tickling annoyance
  occasioned by these intruders crawling up my sleeves and into my hair,
  or down my back and legs--fell off to sleep. Repose that night was not
  destined to be my lot. One of these horrid little insects awoke me in
  his struggles to penetrate my ear, but just too late: for in my
  endeavour to extract him, I aided his immersion. He went his course,
  struggling up the narrow channel, until he got arrested by want of
  passage-room. This impediment evidently enraged him, for he began with
  exceeding vigour, like a rabbit at a hole, to dig violently away at my
  tympanum. The queer sensation this amusing _measure_ excited in me is
  past description. I felt inclined to act as our donkeys once did, when
  beset by a swarm of bees, who buzzed about their ears and stung their
  heads and eyes until they were so irritated and confused that they
  galloped about in the most distracted order, trying to knock them off
  by treading on their heads, or by rushing under bushes, into houses,
  or through any jungle they could find. Indeed, I do not know which was
  worst off. The bees killed some of them and this beetle nearly did for
  me. What to do I knew not. Neither tobacco, oil, nor salt could be
  found: I therefore tried melted butter; that failing, I applied the
  point of a pen-knife to his back, which did more harm than good; for
  though a few thrusts kept him quiet, the point also wounded my ear so
  badly, that inflammation set in, severe suppuration took place, and
  all the facial glands extending from that point down to the point of
  the shoulder became contorted and drawn aside, and a string of bubos
  decorated the whole length of that region. It was the most painful
  thing I ever remember to have endured; but, more annoying still, I
  could not open my mouth for several days, and had to feed on broth
  alone. For many months the tumour made me almost deaf, and ate a hole
  between that orifice and the nose, so that when I blew it, my ear
  whistled so audibly that those who heard it laughed. Six or seven
  months after this accident happened, bits of the beetle, a leg, a
  wing, or parts of its body, came away in the wax.”

It now became apparent that the Masika or rains, which the Arabs, whose
barbarous lunar year renders untrustworthy in measurements of time, had
erroneously represented as synchronous with the wet monsoon of Zanzibar,
was drawing to a close, and that the season for navigation was
beginning.[3] After some preliminaries with Said bin Salim, Kannena,
who had been preparing for a cruise northwards, was summoned before me.
He agreed to convey me; but when I asked him the conditions on which he
would show me the Mtoni, or river, he jumped up, discharged a volley of
oaths, and sprang from the house like an enraged baboon. I was prepared
for this difficulty, having had several warnings that the tribes on the
northern shores of the Tanganyika allow no trade. But fears like
Kannena’s may generally be bought over. I trusted, therefore, to Fate,
and resolved that at all costs, even if reduced to actual want, we
should visit this mysterious stream. At length the headman yielded every
point. He received, it is true, an exorbitant sum. Arabs visiting Uvira,
the “ultima thule” of lake navigation, pay one cloth to each of the
crew; and the fare of a single passenger is a brace of coil-bracelets.
For two canoes, the larger sixty feet by four, and the lesser about
two-thirds that size, I paid thirty-three coil-bracelets, here equal to
sixty dollars, twenty cloths, thirty-six khete of blue glass beads, and
770 ditto of white-porcelains and green-glass. I also promised to
Kannena a rich reward if he acted up to his word; and as an earnest I
threw over his shoulders a six-foot length of scarlet broadcloth, which
caused his lips to tremble with joy, despite his struggles to conceal
it. The Nakhoda (captain) and the crew in turn received, besides
rations, eighty cloths, 170 khete of blue glass-beads, and forty of
coral-porcelains, locally three times more valuable than whites or
greens. Sayfu, the interpreter, was as extravagantly paid in eight
cloths and twenty-seven pounds of white and blue-porcelains. After
abundance of dispute it was settled that the crews should consist of
fifty-five men, thirty-three to the larger and twenty-two to the smaller
canoe. It was an excess of at least one-half, who went for their own
profit, not for our pleasure. When this point was conceded, we were
kindly permitted to take with us the two Goanese, the two black
gun-carriers, and three Baloch as an escort. The latter were the valiant
Khudabakhsh, whom I feared to leave behind; Jelai, the mestiço-Mekrani;
and, thirdly, Riza, the least mutinous and uncivil of the party.

  [3] Not unmindful of the instructions of the Bombay Geographical
  Society, which called especial attention to the amount of rain-fall
  and evaporation in a region, which abounding in lakes and rivers yet
  sends no supplies to the sea, I had prepared, at Zanzibar, a dish and
  a gauge for the purpose of comparing the hygrometry of the African
  with that of the Indian rainy monsoon. The instruments, however, were
  fated to do no work. The first portion of the Masika was spent in a
  journey; ensued severe sickness, and the end of the rains happened
  during a voyage to the north of the Tanganyika. A few scattered
  observations might have been registered, but it was judged better to
  bring home no results, rather than imperfections which could only
  mislead the meteorologist.

Before departure it will be necessary to lay before the reader a sketch
of our conveyance. The first aspect of these canoes made me lament the
loss of Mr. Francis’ iron boat: regrets, however, were of no avail.
_Quocumque modo--rem!_ was the word.

The Baumrinden are unknown upon the Tanganyika Lake, where the smaller
craft are monoxyles, generally damaged in the bow by the fishermen’s
fire. The larger are long, narrow “matumbi,” or canoes, rudely hollowed
with the axe--the application of fire being still to be invented,--in
fact, a mere log of mvule, or some other large tree which abound in the
land of the Wagoma, opposite Ujiji. The trunks are felled, scooped out
in loco, dragged and pushed by man-power down the slopes, and finally
launched and paddled over to their destination. The most considerable
are composed of three parts--clumsy, misshapen planks, forming, when
placed side by side, a keel and two gunwales, the latter fastened to
the centre-piece by cords of palm-fibre passing through lines of holes.
The want of caulking causes excessive leakage: the crew take duty as
balesmen in turns. The cry Senga!--bale out!--rarely ceases, and the
irregular hollowing of the tree-trunks makes them lie lopsided in the
water. These vessels have neither masts nor sails; artifices which now
do not extend to this part of the African world. An iron ring, fixed in
the stern, is intended for a rudder, which, however, seldom appears
except in the canoes of the Arabs, steering is managed by the paddle,
and a flag-staff or a fishing-rod projects jib-like from the bow. Layers
of palm-ribs, which serve for fuel, are strewed over the interior to
raise the damageable cargo--it is often of salt--above the bilge-water.
The crew sit upon narrow benches, extending across the canoe and
fastened with cords to holes in the two side-pieces; upon each bench,
despite the narrowness of the craft, two men place themselves side by
side. The “Karagwah,” stout stiff mats used for hutting and bedding, are
spread for comfort upon the seats; and for convenience of paddling, the
sailors, when at work, incline their bodies over the sides. The space
under the seats is used for stowage. In the centre there is a square
place, about six feet long, left clear of benches; here also cargo is
stored, passengers, cattle, and slaves litter down, the paddles, gourds,
and other furniture of the crew are thrown, and the baling is carried on
by means of an old gourd. The hold is often ankle-deep in water, and
affords no convenience for leaning or lying down; the most comfortable
place, therefore, is near the stern or the bow of the boat. The spears
are planted upright amidships, at one or two corners of the central
space so as to be ready at a moment’s notice; each man usually has his
dagger stuck in his belt, and on long trips all are provided with bows
and arrows. These Africans cannot row; indeed they will not use oars.
The paddle on the Tanganyika is a stout staff, about six feet long, and
cut out at the top to admit a trefoil-shaped block the size of a man’s
hand:--it was described in South Africa by Captain Owen. The block,
adorned with black paint in triangular patches, is lashed to the staff
by a bit of whipcord, and it seldom lasts through the day without
breaking away from its frail tackling. The paddler, placing one hand on
the top and the other about the middle of the staff, scoops up as it
were, the water in front of him, steadying his paddle by drawing it
along the side of the canoe. The eternal splashing keeps the boat wet.
It is a laborious occupation, and an excessive waste of power.

The Lake People derive their modern practice of navigation, doubtless,
from days of old; the earliest accounts of the Portuguese mention the
traffic of this inland sea. They have three principal beats from Ujiji:
the northern abuts at the ivory and slave marts of Uvira; the western
conducts to the opposite shores of the Lake and the island depôts on the
south-west; and the southern leads to the land of Marunga. Their canoes
creep along the shores like the hollowed elders of thirty bygone
centuries, and, waiting till the weather augurs fairly, they make a
desperate push for the other side. Nothing but their extreme timidity,
except when emboldened by the prospect of a speedy return home,
preserves their cranky craft from constant accidents. The Arabs, warned
by the past, rarely trust themselves to this Lake of Storms, preferring
the certain peculation incurred by deputing for trading purposes agents
and slaves to personal risk. Those who must voyage on the lake build,
by means of their menials and artisans, dows, or sailing-vessels, and
teach their newly-bought gangs to use oars instead of paddles. This is
rather an economy of money than of time: they expend six months upon
making the dow, whereas they can buy the largest canoe for a few
farasilah of ivory.

As my outfit was already running low, I persuaded, before departure, two
of the Baloch to return with a down-caravan westwards, and arrived at
Unyanyembe, to communicate personally with my agent, Snay bin Amir. They
agreed so to do, but the Mtongi, or head of the African kafilah, with
true African futility, promised to take them on the next day, and set
out that night on his journey. As Said bin Majid was about despatching a
large armed party to the north of the Lake, I then hurried on my
preparations for the voyage. Provisions and tobacco were laid in, the
tent was repaired, and our outfit, four half loads of salt--of these two
were melted in the canoe, six Gorah,--or one load of domestics, nine
coil-bracelets, the remainder of our store, one load of blue porcelain
beads, and a small bag of the valuable red coral intended for private
expenses, and “El Akibah” (the reserve), was properly packed for
concealment. Meanwhile some trifling disputes occurred with Kannena, who
was in the habit of coming to our Tembe, drunk and surly, with eyes like
two gouts of blood, knitted front, and lips viciously shot out: when
contradicted or opposed, he screamed and gesticulated as if haunted by
his P’hepo,--his fiend;--and when very evilly disposed, he would proceed
to the extreme measure of cutting down a tent. This slave-sultan was a
“son of noise:” he affected _brusquerie_ of manner and violence of
demeanour the better to impressionise his unruly subjects; and he
frightened the timid souls around us, till at last the Jemadar’s phrase
was, “strength is useless here.” Had I led, however, three hundred
instead of thirty matchlocks, he would have crouched and cowered like a
whipped cur.

At 4 P.M., on the 9th April, appeared before the Kannena in a tattered
red turban donned for the occasion. He was accompanied by his ward, who
was to perform the voyage as a training to act sultan, and he was
followed by his sailors bearing salt, in company with their loud-voiced
wives and daughters performing upon the wildest musical instruments. Of
these the most noisy was a kind of shaum, a straight, long and narrow
tube of wood, bound with palm-fibre and provided with an opening mouth
like a clarionet; a distressing bray is kept up by blowing through a
hole pierced in the side. The most monotonous was a pair of
foolscap-shaped plates of thin iron, joined at the apices and connected
at the bases by a solid cross-bar of the same metal; this rude tomtom is
performed upon by a muffled stick with painful perseverance; the
sound--how harshly it intruded upon the stilly beauty of the scenes
around!--still lingers and long shall linger in my tympanum. The canoe
had been moved from its usual position opposite our Tembe, to a place of
known departure--otherwise not a soul could have been persuaded to
embark--and ignoring the distance, I condemned myself to a hobble of
three miles over rough and wet ground. The night was comfortless; the
crew, who were all “half-seas over,” made the noise of bedlamites; and
two heavy falls of rain drenching the flimsy tent, at once spoiled the
tobacco and flour, the grain and the vegetables prepared for the voyage.

Early on the next morning we embarked on board the canoes: the crews had
been collected, paid, and rationed, but as long as they were near home
it was impossible to keep them together. Each man thinking solely of
his own affairs, and disdaining the slightest regard for the wishes, the
comfort, or the advantage of his employers, they objected systematically
to every article which I had embarked. Kannena had filled the canoes
with his and his people’s salt, consequently he would not carry even a
cartel. Various points settled we hove anchor or rather hauled up the
block of granite doing anchoral duty, and with the usual hubbub and
strife, the orders which every man gives and the advice which no man
takes, we paddled in half an hour to a shingly and grassy creek,
defended by a sandpit and backed by a few tall massive trees. Opposite
and but a few yards distant, rose the desert islet of Bangwe, a
quoin-shaped mass of sandstone and red earth, bluff to the north and
gradually shelving towards the water at the other extremity: the
prolific moisture above and around had covered its upper ledge with a
coat of rich thick vegetation. Landward the country rises above the
creek, and upon its earth-waves, which cultivation shares with wild
growth, appear a few scattered hamlets.

Boats generally waste some days at Bangwe Bay, the stage being short
enough for the usual scene being encored. They load and reload, trim
cargo, complete rations, collect crews, and take leave of friends and
relatives, women, and palm-wine. We pitched a tent and halted in a
tornado of wind and rain. Kannena would not move without the present of
one of our three goats. At 4 P.M., on the 11th April, the canoes were
laden and paddled out to and back from Bangwe islet, when those knowing
in such matters pronounced them so heavily weighted as to be unsafe:
whereupon, the youth Riza, sorely against my will, was sent back to the
Kawele. On that night a furious gale carried away my tent, whilst the
Goanese were, or pretended to be, out of hearing. I slept, however,
comfortably enough upon the crest of a sand-wave higher than the puddles
around it, and--blessings on the name of Mackintosh!--escaped the
pitiless pelting of the rain.

The next morning showed a calm sea, levelled by the showers, and no
pretext or desire for longer detention lingered in the hearts of the
crew. At 7·20 A.M., on the 12th April, 1858, my canoe--bearing for the
first time on those dark waters--

  “The flag that braved a thousand years
    The battle and the breeze,”

stood out of Bangwe Bay, and followed by my companion’s turned the
landspit separating the bight from the main, and made directly for the
cloudy and storm-vexed north. The eastern shore of the lake, along which
we coasted, was a bluff of red earth pudding’d with separate blocks of
sandstone. Beyond this headland the coast dips, showing lines of shingle
or golden-coloured quartzose sand, and on the shelving plain appear the
little fishing-villages. They are usually built at the mouths of the
gaps, combes, and gullies, whose deep gorges winding through the
background of hill-curtain, become, after rains, the beds of
mountain-torrents. The wretched settlements are placed between the tree
clad declivities and the shore on which the waves break. The sites are
far from comfortable: the ground is here veiled with thick and fetid
grass; there it is a puddle of black mud, and there a rivulet trickles
through the villages. The hamlet consists of half a dozen beehive-huts,
foul, flimsy, and leaky; their only furniture is a hearth of three clods
or stones, with a few mats and fishing implements. The settlements are
distinguished from a distance by their plantations of palm and
plantain, and by large spreading trees, from whose branches are
suspended the hoops and the drag-nets not in actual use, and under whose
shade the people sit propped against their monoxyles, which are drawn
high up out of danger of the surf. There was no trade, and few
provisions were procurable at Kigari. We halted there to rest, and
pitching a tent in the thick grass we spent a night loud with wind and
rain.

Rising at black dawn on the 13th April, the crews rowed hard for six
hours between Kigari and another dirty little fishing-village called
Nyasanga. The settlement supplied fish-fry, but neither grain nor
vegetables were offered for sale. At this place, the frontier district
between Ujiji and Urundi, our Wajiji took leave of their fellow-clansmen
and prepared with serious countenances for all the perils of
expatriation.

This is the place for a few words concerning boating and voyaging upon
the Tanganyika Lakes. The Wajiji, and indeed all these races, never work
silently or regularly. The paddling is accompanied by a long monotonous
melancholy howl, answered by the yells and shouts of the chorus, and
broken occasionally by a shrill scream of delight from the boys which
seems violently to excite the adults. The bray and clang of the horns,
shaums, and tomtoms, blown and banged incessantly by one or more men in
the bow of each canoe, made worse by brazen-lunged imitations of these
instruments in the squeaking trebles of the younger paddlers, lasts
throughout the livelong day, except when terror induces a general
silence. These “Wáná Máji”--sons of water--work in “spirts,” applying
lustily to the task till the perspiration pours down their sooty
persons. Despite my remonstrances, they insisted upon splashing the
water in shovelsful over the canoe. They make terribly long faces,
however, they tremble like dogs in a storm of sleet, and they are ready
to whimper when compelled by sickness or accident to sit with me under
the endless cold wave-bath in the hold. After a few minutes of exertion,
fatigued and worn, they stop to quarrel, or they progress languidly till
recruited for another effort. When two boats are together they race
continually till a bump--the signal for a general grin--and the
difficulty of using the entangled paddles afford an excuse for a little
loitering, and for the loud chatter, and violent abuse, without which
apparently this people cannot hold converse. At times they halt to eat,
drink, and smoke: the bhang-pipe is produced after every hour, and the
paddles are taken in whilst they indulge in the usual screaming
convulsive whooping-cough. They halt for their own purposes but not for
ours; all powers of persuasion fail when they are requested to put into
a likely place for collecting shells or stones.[4] For some
superstitious reason they allow no questions to be asked, they will not
dip a pot for water into the lake, fearing to be followed and perhaps
boarded by crocodiles, which are hated and dreaded by these black
navigators, much as is the shark by our seamen, and for the same cause
not a scrap of food must be thrown overboard--even the offal must be
cast into the hold. “Whittling” is here a mortal sin: to chip or break
off the smallest bit of even a condemned old tub drawn up on the beach
causes a serious disturbance. By the advice of a kind and amiable
friend[5], I had supplied myself with the desiderata for sounding and
ascertaining the bottom of the Lake: the crew would have seen me under
water rather than halt for a moment when it did not suit their purpose.
The wild men lose half an hour, when time is most precious, to secure a
dead fish as it floats past the canoe entangled in its net. They never
pass a village without a dispute; some wishing to land, others objecting
because some wish it. The captain, who occupies some comfortable place
in the bow, stern, or waist, has little authority; and if the canoe be
allowed to touch the shore, its men will spring out without an idea of
consulting aught beyond their own inclinations. Arrived at the
halting-place they pour on shore; some proceed to gather firewood,
others go in search of rations, and others raise the boothies. A dozen
barked sticks of various lengths are planted firmly in the ground; the
ends are bent and lashed together in the shape of half an orange, by
strips of tree-fibre; they are then covered with the karagwah--the
stiff-reed mats used as cushions when paddling--these are tightly bound
on, and thus a hut is made capable of defending from rain the bodies of
four or five men whose legs which project beyond the shelter are
apparently not supposed to require covering. Obeying only impulse, and
wholly deficient in order and purpose, they make the voyage as
uncomfortable as possible; they have no regular stages and no fixed
halting-places; they waste a fine cool morning, and pull through the
heat of the day, or after dozing throughout the evening, at the loud cry
of “Pakírá Bábá!”--pack up, hearties!--they scramble into their canoes
about midnight. Outward-bound they seek opportunities for delay; when it
is once “up anchor for home,” they hurry with dangerous haste.

  [4] THE FOLLOWING PAPER BY S. P. WOODWARD, F.G.S., COMMUNICATED BY
  PROF. OWEN, APPEARED IN THE PROCEEDINGS OF THE ZOOLOGICAL SOCIETY OF
  LONDON, JUNE 28, 1859.

  The four shells which form the subject of the present note were
  collected by Captain Speke in the great freshwater lake Tanganyika in
  Central Africa.

  The large bivalve belongs to the genus _Iridina_, Lamarck,--a group of
  river mussels, of which there are nine reputed species, all belonging
  to the African continent. This little group has been divided into
  several sub-genera. That to which the new shell belongs is
  distinguished by its broad and deeply-wrinkled hinge-line, and is
  called _Pleiodon_ by Conrad. The posterior slope of this shell is
  encrusted with tufa, as if there were limestone rocks in the vicinity
  of its habitat.

  The small bivalve is a normal _Unio_, with finely sculptured valves.

  The smaller univalve is concave beneath, and so much resembles a
  _Nerita_ or _Calyptræa_ that it would be taken for a sea-shell if its
  history were not well authenticated. It agrees essentially with
  _Lithoglyphus_,--a genus peculiar to the Danube; for the American
  shells referred to it are probably, or, I may say, certainly distinct.
  It agrees with the Danubian shells in the extreme obliquity of the
  aperture, and differs in the width of the umbilicus, which in the
  European species is nearly concealed by the callous columellar lip.

  In the Upper Eocene Tertiaries of the Isle of Wight there are several
  estuary shells, forming the genus _Globulus_, Sow., whose affinities
  are uncertain, but which resemble _Lithoglyphus_.

  The lake Tanganyika (situated in lat. 3° to 8° S. and long. 30° E.),
  which is several hundred miles in length and 30 to 40 in breadth,
  seems entirely disconnected with the region of the Danube: but the
  separation may not always have been so complete, for there is another
  great lake, Nyanza, to the northward of Tanganyika, which is believed
  by Speke to be the principal source of the Nile.

  The other univalve is a _Melania_, of the sub-genus _Melanella_
  (Swainson), similar in shape to _M. hollandi_ of S. Europe, and
  similar to several Eocene species of the Isle of Wight. Its colour,
  solidity, and tuberculated ribs give it much the appearance of a small
  marine whelk (_Nassa_); and it is found in more boisterous waters, on
  the shores of this great inland sea, than most of its congeners
  inhabit.

  1. IRIDINA (PLEIODON) SPEKII, n. sp. (Pl. XLVII. fig. 2.)

  Shell oblong, ventricose, somewhat attenuated at each end: base
  slightly concave; epidermis chestnut brown, deepening to black at the
  margin; anterior slope obscurely radiated; hinge-line compressed in
  front and tuberculated, wider behind and deeply wrinkled.

  Length 4¾, breadth 2, thickness 1¾ inches.

  _Testa oblonga, tumida, extremitatibus fere attenuata, basi
  subarcuata; epidermide castaneo-fusca, marginem versus nigricante;
  linea cardinali antice compressa tuberculata, postice latiore, paucis
  rugis arata._

  2. UNIO BURTONI, n. sp. (Pl. XLVII. fig. 1.)

  Shell small, oval, rather thin, somewhat pointed behind; umbones
  small, not eroded; pale olive, concentrically furrowed, and sculptured
  more or less with fine divaricating lines; anterior teeth narrow, not
  prominent; posterior teeth laminar; pedal scar confluent with anterior
  adductor.

  Length 12, breadth 8½, thickness 5½ lines.

  _Testa parva, ovalis, tenuiuscula, postice subattenuata; umbonibus
  parvis, acuminatis; epidermide pallide olivacea; valvis lineolis
  divaricatis, decussatum exaratis; dentibus cardinalibus angustis, haud
  prominentibus._

  3. LITHOGLYPHUS ZONATUS, n. sp. (Pl. XLVII. fig. 3.)

  Shell orbicular, hemispherical; spire very small; aperture large, very
  oblique; umbilicus wide and shallow, with an open fissure in the young
  shell; lip continuous in front with the umbilical ridge; columella
  callous, ultimately covering the fissure; body-whirl flattened, pale
  olivaceous, with two brown bands, darker at the apex; lines of growth
  crossed by numerous oblique, interrupted striæ.

  Diameter 5-6, height 3 lines.

  _Testa orbicularis, hemisphærica, late umbilicata (apud juniores
  rimata), spira minuta; apertura magna, valde obliqua; labio calloso
  (in testa adulta rimam tegente); pallide olivacea, fasciis duabus
  fuscis zonata; lineis incrementi striolis interruptis oblique
  decussatis._

  4. MELANIA (MELANELLA) NASSA, n. sp. (Pl. XLVII. fig. 4.)

  Shell ovate, strong, pale brown, with (sometimes) two dark bands;
  spire shorter than the aperture; whirls flattened, ornamented with six
  brown spiral ridges crossed with a variable number of white,
  tuberculated, transverse ribs; base of body-whirl eight with
  tuberculated spiral ridges variegated with white and brown; aperture
  sinuated in front; outer lip simple; inner lip callous.

  Length 8½, breadth 5½ lines.

  _Testa ovata, solida, pallide fusca, zonis 2 nigricantibus aliquando
  notata; spira apertura breviore; anfractibus planulatis, lineis 6
  fuscis spiralibus et costis tuberculatis ornatis; apertura antice
  sinuata; labro simplici; labio calloso._

  P.S. July 27th.--In addition to the foregoing shells, several others
  were collected by Capt. Speke, when employed, under the command of
  Capt. Burton, in exploring Central Africa in the years 1856-9; these
  were deposited in the first instance with the Geographical Society,
  and are now transferred to the British Museum.

  A specimen of _Ampullaria (Lanistes) sinistrorsa_, Lea, and odd valves
  of two species of _Unio_, both smooth and olive-coloured, were picked
  up in the Ugogo district, an elevated plateau in lat. 6° to 7° S.,
  long. 34° to 35° E.

  A large _Achatina_, most nearly related to _A. glutinosa_, Pfr., is
  the “common snail” of the region between lake Tanganyika and the east
  coast. Fossil specimens were obtained in the Usagara district, at a
  place called Marora, 3000 feet above the sea, overlooking the Lufiji
  River, where it intersects the coast range (lat. 7° to 8° S., long.
  36° to 36° E.).

  Another common land snail of the same district is the well known
  “_Bulimus caillaudi_, Pfr.,” a shell more nearly related to _Achatina_
  than _Bulimus_.

  Captain Speke also found a solitary example of _Bulimus ovoideus_,
  Brug., in a musjid on the island of Kiloa (lat. 9° S., long. 39° to
  40° E.). This species is identical with _B. grandis_, Desh., from the
  island of Nosse Bé, Madagascar, and very closely allied to _B.
  liberianus_, Lea, from Guinea.

  [5] Captain Balfour, H.M.I.N., who kindly supplied me with a list of
  necessaries for sail-making and other such operations on the Lake. I
  had indented upon the Engineers’ Stores, Bombay, for a Massey’s patent
  or self-registering log, which would have been most useful had the
  people allowed it to be used. Prevented by stress of business from
  testing it in India, I found it at sea so thoroughly defective, that
  it was returned from whence it came by the good aid of Captain
  Frushard, then commanding the H.E.I.C.’s sloop of war _Elphinstone_. I
  then prepared at Zanzibar, a line and a lead, properly hollowed to
  admit of its being armed, and this safely reached the Tanganyika Lake.
  It was not useless but unused: the crew objected to its being hove,
  and moreover--lead and metal are never safe in Central Africa--the
  line, which was originally short, was curtailed of one half during the
  first night after our departure from Kawele. It is by no means easy to
  estimate the rate of progress in these barbarous canoes barbarously
  worked. During the “spirts” when the paddler bends his back manfully
  to his task, a fully-manned craft may attain a maximum of 7 to 8 miles
  per hour: this exertion, however, rarely exceeds a quarter of an hour,
  and is always followed by delay. The usual pace, when all are fresh
  and cool, is about 4 to 5 miles, which declines through 4 and 3 to 2½,
  when the men are fatigued, or when the sun is high. The medium,
  therefore, may be assumed at 4 miles for short, and a little more than
  2 miles an hour for long trips, halts deducted.

On the 14th April, a cruise of four hours conducted us to Wafanya, a
settlement of Wajiji mixed with Warundi. Leaving this wretched mass of
hovels on the next day, which began with a solemn warning from Sayfu--a
man of melancholic temperament--we made in four hours Wafanya, the
southern limit of Urundi, and the only port in that inhospitable land
still open to travellers. Drawing up our canoes upon a clear narrow
sandstrip beyond the reach of the surf, we ascended a dwarf earth-cliff,
and pitching our tents under a spreading tree upon the summit, we made
ourselves as comfortable as the noisy, intrusive, and insolent crowd,
assembled to stare and to laugh at the strangers, would permit. The crew
raised their boothies within a stone-throw of the water, flight being
here the thought ever uppermost in their minds.

The people of this country are a noisy insolent race, addicted, like all
their Lakist brethren, to drunkenness, and, when drunk, quarrelsome and
violent. At Wafanya, however, they are kept in order by Kanoni, their
mutware or minor chief, subject to “Mwezi,” the mwami or sultan of
Urundi. The old man appeared, when we reached his settlement, in some
state, preceded by an ancient carrying his standard, a long wisp of
white fibre attached to a spear, like the Turkish “horse-tail,” and
followed by a guard of forty or fifty stalwart young warriors armed with
stout lance-like spears for stabbing and throwing, straight double-edged
daggers, stiff bows, and heavy, grinded arrows. Kanoni began by
receiving his black-mail--four cloths, two coil-bracelets, and three
fundo of coral beads: the return was the inevitable goat. The climate of
Wafanya is alternately a damp-cold and a “muggy” heat; the crews,
however, if numerous and well armed, will delay here to feed when
northward bound, and to lay in provisions when returning to their homes.
Sheep and fine fat goats vary in value from one to two cloths; a fowl,
or five to six eggs, costs a khete of beads; sweet potatoes are somewhat
dearer than at Ujiji; there is no rice, but holcus and manioc are cheap
and abundant, about 5 lbs. of the latter being sold for a single khete.
Even milk is at times procurable. A sharp business is carried on in
chikichi or palm-oil, of which a large earthen pot is bought for a
cloth; the best paddles used by the crews are made at Wafanya; and the
mbugu, or bark-cloth, is bought for four to ten khete, about one third
of the market-price at Ujiji. Salt, being imported from Uvinza, is dear
and scarce: it forms the first demand for barter, and beads the second.
Large fish is offered for sale, but the small fry is the only article of
the kind which is to be purchased fresh. The country owes its plenty,
according to the guides, to almost perennial showers.

The inhospitality of the Warundi and their northern neighbours, who
would plunder a canoe or insist upon a black-mail equivalent to plunder,
allows neither traffic nor transit to the north of Wafanya. Here,
therefore, the crews prepare to cross the Tanganyika, which is divided
into two stages by the island of Ubwari.

In Ubwari I had indeed discovered “an island far away.” It is probably
the place alluded to by the Portuguese historian, De Barros, in this
important passage concerning the great lake in the centre of Africa: “It
is a sea of such magnitude as to be capable of being navigated by many
sail; and among the islands in it there is one capable of sending forth
an army of 30,000 men.” Ubwari appears from a distance of two days
bearing north-west; it is then somewhat hazy, owing to the extreme
humidity of the atmosphere. From Wafanya it shows a clear profile about
eighteen to twenty miles westward, and the breadth of the western
channel between it and the mainland averages from six to seven miles.
Its north point lies in south lat. 4° 7′, and the lay is N. 17° E.
(corrected). From the northern point of Ubwari the eastern prolongation
of the lake bears N. 3° W. and the western N. 10° W. It is the only
island near the centre of the Tanganyika--a long, narrow lump of rock,
twenty to twenty-five geographical miles long, by four or five of
extreme breadth, with a high longitudinal spine, like a hog’s back,
falling towards the water--here shelving, there steep, on the
sea-side--where it ends in abrupt cliffs, here and there broken by broad
or narrow gorges. Green from head to foot, in richness and profuseness
of vegetation it equals, and perhaps excels, the shores of the
Tanganyika, and in parts it appears carefully cultivated. Mariners dare
not disembark on Ubwari, except at the principal places; and upon the
wooded hill-sides wild men are, or are supposed to be, ever lurking in
wait for human prey.

We halted two miserable days at Wafanya. The country is peculiarly rich,
dotted with numerous hamlets, which supply provisions, and even milk,
and divided into dense thickets, palm-groves, and large clearings of
manioc, holcus, and sweet potatoes, which mantle like a garment the
earth’s brown body. Here we found Kannena snugly ensconced in our
sepoy’s pal, or ridge-tent. He had privily obtained it from Said bin
Salim, with a view to add to his and his ward’s comfort and dignity.
When asked to give it up--we were lodging, I under a lug-sail, brought
from the coast and converted into an awning, and my companion in the
wretched flimsy article purchased from the Fundi--he naively refused.
Presently having seen a fat sheep, he came to me declaring that it was
his perquisite: moreover, he insisted upon receiving the goat offered to
us by the Sultan Kanoni. I at first demurred. His satisfactory rejoinder
was: “Ngema, ndugu yango!--Well, my brother,--here we remain!” I
consulted Bombay about the necessity of humouring him in every whim.
“What these jungle-niggers want,” quoth my counsel, “that they will
have, or they will see the next month’s new moon!”

The morning of the 18th April was dark and menacing. Huge purpling
clouds deformed the face of the northern sky. Having loaded the canoes,
however, we embarked to cross the channel which separated us from the
Ubwari island. As the paddles were in hand, the crew, starting up from
their benches, landed to bring on board some forgotten manioc. My
companion remained in his boat, I in mine. Presently, hearing an unusual
uproar, I turned round and saw the sailors arming themselves, whilst the
“curtain-lion,” Khudabakhsh, was being hustled with blows, and pushed up
the little cliff by a host of black spearmen; a naked savage the while
capering about, waving the Baloch’s bare blade in one hand and its
scabbard in the other. Kannena joined majestically in the “row,” but the
peals of laughter from the mob showed no signs of anger. A Mjiji slave,
belonging to Khudabakhsh had, it appears, taken flight, after landing
unobserved with the crowd. The brave had redemanded him of Kannena, whom
he charged, moreover, with aiding and abetting the desertion. The slave
Sultan offered to refer the point to me, but the valiant man, losing
patience, out with his sword, and was instantly disarmed, assaulted, and
battered, as above described, by forty or fifty sailors. When quiet was
restored, I called to him from the boat. He replied by refusing to
“budge an inch,” and by summoning his “brother” Jelai to join him with
bag and baggage. Kannena also used soft words, till at last, weary of
waiting, he gave orders to put off, throwing two cloths to Khudabakhsh,
that the fellow might not return home hungry. I admired his generosity
till compelled to pay for it.

The two Baloch were like mules; they disliked the voyage, and as it was
the Ramazan, they added to their discomforts by pretending to fast.
Their desertion was inexcusable; they left us wholly in the power of the
Wajiji, to dangers and difficulties which they themselves could not
endure. Prudent Orientals, I may again observe, never commit themselves
to the sole custody of Africans, even of the “Muwallid,” namely those
born and bred in their houses. In Persia the traveller is careful to mix
the black blood with that of the higher race; formerly, whenever the
member of a family was found murdered, the serviles were all tortured as
a preliminary to investigation, and many stories, like the following,
are recounted. The slaves had left their master in complete security,
and were sitting, in early night, merrily chatting round the camp fire.
Presently one began to relate the list of their grievances; another
proposed to end them by desertion; and a third seconded the motion,
opining, however, that they might as well begin by murdering the
patroon. No sooner said than done. These children of passion and
instinct, in the shortest interim, act out the “dreadful thing,” and as
readily repent when reflection returns. The Arab, therefore, in African
lands, seldom travels with Africans only; he prefers collecting as many
companions, and bringing as many hangers on as he can afford. The best
escort to a European capable of communicating with and commanding them,
would be a small party of Arabs fresh from Hazramaut and untaught in the
ways and tongues of Africa. They would by forming a kind of balance of
power, prevent that daring pilfering for which slaves are infamous; in
the long run they would save money to the explorer, and perhaps save his
life.

Khudabakhsh and his comrade-deserter returned safely by land to Kawele;
and when derided by the other men, he repeated, as might be expected,
notable griefs. Both had performed prodigies of valour; they had however
been mastered by millions. Then they had called upon “Haji Abdullah”
for assistance, to which he had replied “My power does not extend here!”
Thus heartlessly refused aid by the only person who could and should
have afforded it, they were reduced, sorely against their will, to take
leave of him. Their tale was of course believed by their comrades, till
the crews brought back the other version of the affair, the
“camel-hearts” then once more became the laugh and jibe of man and
woman.

After a short consultation amongst the men concerning the threatening
aspect of the heavens, it was agreed by them to defer crossing the Lake
till the next day. We therefore passed on to the northern side of the
point which limits the bay of Wafanya, and anchoring the craft in a
rushy bayou, we pitched tents in time to protect us against a violent
thunderstorm with its wind and rain.

On the 19th April we stretched westward, towards Ubwari, which appeared
a long strip of green directly opposite Urundi, and distant from
eighteen to twenty miles. A little wind caused a heavy chopping swell;
we were wet to the skin, and as noon drew nigh, the sun shone
stingingly, reflected by a mirrory sea. At 10 A.M. the party drew in
their paddles and halted to eat and smoke. About 2 P.M. the wind and
waves again arose,--once more we were drenched, and the frail craft was
constantly baled out to prevent water-logging. A long row of nine hours
placed the canoes at a roadstead, with the usual narrow line of yellow
sand, on the western coast of Ubwari Island. The men landed to dry
themselves, and to cook some putrid fish which they had caught as it
floated past the canoe, with the reed triangle that buoyed up the net.
It was “strong meat” to us, but to them its staleness was as the “taste
in his butter,” to the Londoner, the pleasing toughness of the old cock
to the Arab, and the savoury “fumet” of the aged he-goat to the Baloch.
After a short halt, we moved a little northwards to Mzimu, a strip of
low land dividing the waters from their background of grassy rise,
through which a swampy line winds from the hills above. Here we found
canoes drawn up, and the islanders flocked from their hamlets to change
their ivory and slaves, goats and provisions, for salt and beads, wire
and cloth. The Wabwari are a peculiar, and by no means a comely race.
The men are habited in the usual mbugu, tigered with black stripes, and
tailed like leopard-skins: a wisp of fine grass acts as fillet, and
their waists, wrists, and ankles, their knob-sticks, spears, and
daggers, are bound with rattan-bark, instead of the usual wire. The
women train their frizzly locks into two side-bits resembling bear’s
ears; they tie down the bosom with a cord, apparently for the purpose of
distorting nature in a way that is most repulsive to European eyes; and
they clothe themselves with the barbarous goat-skin, or the scantiest
kilts of bark-cloth. The wives of the chiefs wear a load of brass and
bead ornaments; and, like the ladies of Wafanya, they walk about with
patriarchal staves five feet long, and knobbed at the top.

We halted for a day at Mzimu in Ubwari, where Kannena demanded seventy
khete of blue-porcelain beads as his fee for safe conduct to the island.
Suddenly, at 6 P.M., he informed me that he must move to other quarters.
We tumbled into the boats, and after enjoying two hours of pleasant
progress with a northerly current, and a splendid moonshine, which set
off a scene at once wild and soft as any

  “That savage Rosa dashed, or learned Poussin drew,”

we rounded the bluff northern point of the island, put into “Mtuwwa,” a
little bay on its western shore, pitched the tent, and slept at ease.

Another halt was required on the 22nd April. The Sultan Kisesa demanded
his blackmail, which amounted to one coil-bracelet and two cloths;
provisions were hardly procurable, because his subjects wanted white
beads, with which, being at a discount at Ujiji, we had not provided
ourselves; and Kannena again successfully put in a tyrannical claim for
460 khete of blue-porcelains to purchase rations.

On the 23rd April we left Mtuwwa, and made for the opposite or western
shore of the lake, which appeared about fifteen miles distant; the day’s
work was nine hours. The two canoes paddled far apart, there was
therefore little bumping, smoking, or quarrelling, till near our
destination. At Murivumba the malaria, the mosquitoes, the crocodiles,
and the men are equally feared. The land belongs to the Wabembe,
who are correctly described in the “Mombas Mission Map” as
“Menschenfresser--anthropophagi.” The practice arises from the savage
and apathetic nature of the people, who devour, besides man, all kinds
of carrion and vermin, grubs and insects, whilst they abandon to wild
growths a land of the richest soil and of the most prolific climate.
They prefer man raw, whereas the Wadoe of the coast eat him roasted. The
people of a village which backed the port, assembled as usual to “sow
gape-seed;” but though

  “A hungry look hung upon them all,”--

and amongst cannibals one always fancies oneself considered in the light
of butcher’s meat,--the poor devils, dark and stunted, timid and
degraded, appeared less dangerous to the living than to the dead. In
order to keep them quiet, the bull-headed Mabruki, shortly before dusk,
fired a charge of duck-shot into the village; ensued loud cries and
deprecations to the “Murungwana,” but happily no man was hurt. Sayfu the
melancholist preferred squatting through the night on the bow of the
canoe, to trusting his precious person on shore. We slept upon a
reed-margined spit of sand, and having neglected to pitch the tent, were
rained upon to our heart’s content.

We left Murivumba of the man-eaters early on the morning of the 24th
April, and stood northwards along the western shore of the Lake: the
converging trend of the two coasts told that we were fast approaching
our destination. After ten hours’ paddling, halts included, we landed at
the southern frontier of Uvira, in a place called Mamaletua, Ngovi, and
many other names. Here the stream of commerce begins to set strong; the
people were comparatively civil, they cleared for us a leaky old hut
with a floor like iron,--it appeared to us a palace!--and they supplied,
at moderate prices, sheep and goats, fish-fry, eggs, and poultry, grain,
manioc and bird-pepper.

After another long stretch of fifteen rainy and sunny hours, a high
easterly wind compelled the hard-worked crews to put into Muikamba (?)
of Uvira. A neighbouring hamlet, a few hovels built behind a thick
wind-wrung plantain-grove, backed a reed-locked creek, where the canoes
floated in safety and a strip of clean sand on which we passed the night
as pleasantly as the bright moonlight and the violent gusts would
permit. On the 26th April, a paddle of three hours and a half landed us
in the forenoon at the sandy baystand, where the trade of Uvira is
carried on.

Great rejoicings ushered in the end of our outward-bound voyage. Crowds
gathered on the shore to gaze at the new merchants arriving at Uvira,
with the usual concert, vocal and instrumental, screams, shouts, and
songs, shaums, horns, and tom-toms. The captains of the two canoes
performed with the most solemn gravity a bear-like dance upon the
mat-covered benches, which form the “quarter-decks,” extending their
arms, pirouetting upon both heels, and springing up and squatting down
till their hams touched the mats. The crews, with a general grin which
showed all their ivories, rattled their paddles against the sides of
their canoes in token of greeting, a custom derived probably from the
ceremonious address of the Lakists, which is performed by rapping their
elbows against their ribs. Presently Majid and Bekkari, two Arab youths
sent from Ujiji by their chief, Said bin Majid, to collect ivory, came
out to meet me; they gave me, as usual, the news, and said that having
laid in the store of tusks required, they intended setting out
southwards on the morrow. We passed half the day of our arrival on the
bare landing-place, a strip of sand foully unclean, from the effect of
many bivouacs. It is open to the water and backed by the plain of Uvira;
one of the broadest of these edges of gently-inclined ground which
separate the Lake from its trough of hills. Kannena at once visited the
Mwami or Sultan Maruta, who owns a village on a neighbouring elevation;
this chief invited me to his settlement, but the outfit was running low
and the crew and party generally feared to leave their canoes. We
therefore pitched our tents upon the sand, and prepared for the last
labour, that of exploring the head of the Lake.

We had now reached the “ne plus ultra,” the northernmost station to
which merchants have as yet been admitted. The people are generally on
bad terms with the Wavira, and in these black regions a traveller coming
direct from an enemy’s territory is always suspected of hostile
intentions,--no trifling bar to progress. Opposite us still rose, in a
high broken line, the mountains of inhospitable Urundi, apparently
prolonged beyond the northern extremity of the waters. The head, which
was not visible from the plain, is said to turn N.N. westwards, and to
terminate after a voyage of two days, which some informants, however,
reduce to six hours. The breadth of the Tanganyika is here between seven
and eight miles. On the 28th April, all my hopes--which, however, I had
hoped against hope--were rudely dashed to the ground. I received a visit
from the three stalwart sons of the Sultan Maruta: they were the noblest
type of Negroid seen near the Lake, with symmetrical heads, regular
features and pleasing countenances; their well-made limbs and athletic
frames of a shiny jet black, were displayed to advantage by their loose
aprons of red and dark-striped bark-cloth, slung, like game-bags, over
their shoulders, and were set off by opal-coloured eyeballs, teeth like
pearls, and a profusion of broad massive rings of snowy ivory round
their arms, and conical ornaments like dwarf marling-spikes of
hippopotamus tooth suspended from their necks. The subject of the
mysterious river issuing from the Lake, was at once brought forward.
They all declared that they had visited it, they offered to forward me,
but they unanimously asserted, and every man in the host of bystanders
confirmed their words, that the “Rusizi” enters into, and does not flow
out of the Tanganyika. I felt sick at heart. I had not, it is true,
undertaken to explore the Coy Fountains by this route; but the combined
assertions of the cogging Shaykh and the false Msawahili had startled
me from the proprieties of reason, and--this was the result!

Bombay, when questioned, declared that my companion had misunderstood
the words of Hamid bin Sulayyam, who spoke of a river falling into, not
issuing _from_ the lake; and added his own conviction that the Arab had
never sailed north of Ubwari Island. Sayfu, who at Ujiji had described,
as an eye-witness, the mouth of the déversoir and its direction for two
days, now owned that he had never been beyond Uvira, and that he never
intended to do so. Briefly, I had been deceived by a strange coincidence
of deceit.

On the 28th April, we were driven from the strip of land which we
originally occupied by a S. E. gale; here a “blat,” or small hurricane,
which drives the foaming waters of the tideless sea up to the green
margin of the land. Retiring higher up where the canoes were careened,
we spread our bedding on the little muddy mounds that rise a few inches
above the surface of grass-closed gutter which drains off the showers
daily falling amongst the hills. I was still obliged to content myself
with the lug-sail, thrown over a ridge-pole supported by two bamboo
uprights, and pegged out like a tent below; it was too short to fall
over the ends and to reach the ground, it was therefore a place of
passage for mizzle, splash, and draught of watery wind. My companion
inhabited the tent bought from the Fundi, it was thoroughly rotted,
during his first trip across the Lake--by leakage in the boat, and by
being “bushed” with mud instead of pegs on shore. He informed me that
there was “good grub” at Uvira, and that was nearly the full amount of
what I heard from or of him. Our crews had hutted themselves in the
dense mass of grass near our tents; they lived as it were under arms,
and nothing would induce them to venture away from their only escape,
the canoes, which stood ready for launching whenever required. Sayfu
swore that he would return to Ujiji rather than venture a few yards
inland to buy milk, whilst Bombay and Mabrukí, who ever laboured under
the idea that every brother-African of the jungle thirsted for their
blood, upon the principle that wild birds hate tame birds, became, when
the task was proposed to them, almost mutinous. Our nine days’ halt at
Uvira had therefore unusual discomforts. The air, however, though damp
and raw, with gust, storm, and rain, must have been pure in the extreme;
appetite and sleep--except when the bull-frogs were “making a night of
it”--were rarely wanting, and provisions were good, cheap, and abundant.

I still hoped, however, to lay down the extreme limits of the lake
northwards. Majid and Bekkari the Arab agents of Said bin Majid, replied
to the offer of an exorbitant sum, that they would not undertake the
task for ten times that amount. The sons of Maruta had volunteered their
escort; when I wanted to close with them, they drew off. Kannena, when
summoned to perform his promise and reminded of the hire that he had
received, jumped up and ran out of the tent: afterwards at Ujiji he
declared that he had been willing to go, but that his crews were
unanimous in declining to risk their lives,--which was perhaps true.
Towards the end of the halt I suffered so severely from ulceration of
the tongue, that articulation was nearly impossible, and this was a
complete stopper to progress. It is a characteristic of African travel
that the explorer may be arrested at the very bourne of his journey, on
the very threshold of success, by a single stage, as effectually as if
all the waves of the Atlantic or the sands of Arabia lay between.

Maruta and his family of young giants did not fail to claim their
blackmail; they received a total of twelve cloths, five kitindi, and
thirty khete of coral beads. They returned two fine goats, here worth
about one cloth each, and sundry large gourds of fresh milk--the only
food I could then manage to swallow. Kannena, who had been living at
Maruta’s village, came down on the 5th May to demand 460 khete of blue
porcelains, wherewith to buy rations for the return-voyage. Being
heavily in debt, all his salt and coil-bracelets had barely sufficed for
his liabilities: he had nothing to show for them but masses of
Sambo--iron-wire rings--which made his ankles resemble those of a young
hippopotamus. The slaves and all the fine tusks that came on board were
the property of the crew.

Our departure from Uvira was finally settled for the 6th May: before
taking leave of our “furthest point,” I will offer a few details
concerning the commerce of the place.

Uvira is much frequented on account of its cheapness; it is the great
northern depôt for slaves, ivory, grain, bark-cloth, and ironware, and,
in the season, hardly a day elapses without canoes coming in for
merchandise or provisions. The imports are the kitindi, salt, beads,
tobacco, and cotton cloth. Rice does not grow there, holcus and maize
are sold at one to two fundo of common beads per masuta or small
load,--perhaps sixteen pounds,--and one khete is sufficient during the
months of plenty to purchase five pounds of manioc, or two and even
three fowls. Plantains of the large and coarse variety are common and
cheap, and one cloth is given for two goodly earthen pots full of
palm-oil. Ivory fetches its weight in brass wire: here the merchant
expects for every 1000 dollars of outfit to receive 100 farasilah (3500
lbs.) of large tusks, and his profit would be great were it not
counterbalanced by the risk and by the expense of transport. The prices
in the slave-mart greatly fluctuate. When business is dull, boys under
ten years may be bought for four cloths and five fundo of white and blue
porcelains, girls for six shukkah, and as a rule at these remote places,
as Uvira, Ujipa, and Marungu, slaves are cheaper than in the market of
Ujiji. Adults fetch no price, they are notoriously intractable, and
addicted to desertion. Bark-cloths, generally in the market, vary from
one to three khete of coral beads. The principal industry of the Wavira
is ironware, the material for which is dug in the lands lying at a
little distance westward of the lake. The hoes, dudgeons, and small
hatchets, here cost half their usual price at Ujiji. The people also
make neat baskets and panniers, not unlike those of Normandy, and pretty
bowls cut out of various soft woods, light and dark: the latter are also
found, though rarely, at Ujiji and in the western islets.

A gale appeared to be brewing in the north--here the place of
storms--and the crews, fearing wind and water, in the afternoon insisted
upon launching their canoes and putting out to sea at 10 A.M. on the 6th
May. After touching at the stages before described, Muikamba, Ngovi and
Murivumba of the anthropophagi, we crossed without other accidents but
those of weather--the rainy monsoon was in its last convulsions--the
western branch or supplementary channel separating the Lake from the
island of Ubwari. Before anchoring at Mzimu, our former halting-place,
we landed at a steep ghaut, where the crews swarmed up a ladder of rock,
and presently returned back with pots of the palm-oil, for which this
is the principal depôt.

On the 10th May the sky was dull and gloomy, the wind was hushed, the
“rain-sun” burnt with a sickly and painful heat; the air was still and
sultry, stifling and surcharged, while the glimmerings of lurid
lightning and low mutterings from the sable cloud-banks lying upon the
northern horizon, cut by light masses of mist in a long unbroken line,
and from the black arch rising above the Acroceraurian hills to the
west, disturbed at times the death-like silence. Even the gulls on the
beach forefelt a storm. I suggested a halt, but the crews were now in a
nervous hurry to reach their homes,--impatience mastered even _their_
prudence.

We left Mzimu at sunset, and for two hours coasted along the shore. It
was one of those portentous evenings of the tropics--a calm before a
tempest--unnaturally quiet; we struck out, however, boldly towards the
eastern shore of the Tanganyika, and the western mountains rapidly
lessened on the view. Before, however, we reached the mid-channel, a
cold gust--in these regions the invariable presage of a storm--swept
through the deepening shades cast by the heavy rolling clouds, and the
vivid nimble lightning flashed, at first by intervals, then incessantly,
with a ghastly and blinding glow, illuminating the “vast of night,” and
followed by a palpable obscure, and a pitchy darkness, that weighed upon
the sight. As terrible was its accompaniment of rushing, reverberating
thunder, now a loud roar, peal upon peal, like the booming of heavy
batteries, then breaking into a sudden crash, which was presently
followed by a rattling discharge like the sharp pattering of musketry.
The bundles of spears planted upright amidships, like paratonnerres,
seemed to invite the electric fluid into the canoes. The waves began to
rise, the rain descended, at first in warning-drops, then in torrents,
and had the wind steadily arisen, the cockle-shell craft never could
have lived through the short, chopping sea which characterises the
Tanganyika in heavy weather. The crew, though blinded by the showers,
and frightened by the occasional gusts, held their own gallantly enough;
at times, however, the moaning cry, “O my wife!” showed what was going
on within. Bombay, a noted Voltairian in fine weather, spent the length
of that wild night in reminiscences of prayer. I sheltered myself from
the storm under my best friend, the Mackintosh, and thought of the
far-famed couplet of Hafiz,--with its mystic meaning I will not trouble
the reader:--

  “This collied night, these horrid waves, these gusts that sweep the
     whirling deep!
   What reck they of our evil plight, who on the shore securely sleep?”

Fortunately the rain beat down wind and sea, otherwise nothing short of
a miracle could have preserved us for a dry death.

That night, however, was the last of our “sea-sorrows.” After floating
about during the latter hours of darkness, under the land, but uncertain
where to disembark, we made at 7 A.M., on the 11th May, Wafanya, our
former station in ill-famed Urundi. Tired and cramped by the night’s
work, we pitched tents, and escaping from the gaze of the insolent and
intrusive crowd, we retired to spend a few hours in sleep.

I was suddenly aroused by Mabruki, who, rushing into the tent, thrust my
sword into my hands, and exclaimed that the crews were scrambling into
their boats. I went out and found everything in dire confusion. The
sailors hurrying here and there, were embarking their mats and
cooking-pots, some were in violent parley with Kannena, whilst a little
knot was carrying a man, mortally wounded, down to the waters of the
Lake. I saw at once that the affair was dangerous. On these occasions
the Wajiji, whose first impulse is ever flight, rush for safety to their
boats and push off, little heeding whom or what they leave behind. We
therefore hurried in without delay.

When both crews had embarked, and no enemy appeared, Kannena persuaded
them to reland, and proving to them their superior force, induced them
to demand, at the arrow’s point, satisfaction of Kanoni, the chief, for
the outrage committed by his subjects. During our sleep a drunken
man--almost all these disturbances arise from fellows who have the “_vin
méchant_”--had rushed from the crowd of Warundi, and, knobstick in hand,
had commenced dealing blows in all directions. Ensued a general mêlée.
Bombay, when struck, called to the crews to arm. The Goanese, Valentine,
being fear-crazed, seized my large “Colt” and probably fired it into the
crowd; at all events, the cone struck one of our own men below the right
pap, and came out two inches to the right of the backbone. Fortunately
for us he was a slave, otherwise the situation would have been
desperate. As it was, the crowd became violently excited, one man drew
his dagger upon Valentine, and with difficulty I dissuaded Kannena from
killing him. As the crew had ever an eye to the “main chance,” food,
they at once confiscated three goats, our store for the return voyage,
cut their throats, and spitted the meat upon their spears:--thus the
lamb died and the wolf dined, and the innocent suffered and the
plunderer was joyed, the strong showed his strength and the weak his
weakness, according to the usual formula of this sublunary world.

Whilst Kannena was absent, on martial purposes intent, I visited the
sole sufferer in the fray, and after seeing his wound washed, I forbade
his friends to knead the injured muscles, as they were doing, and to
wrench his right arm from side to side. A cathartic seemed to have a
beneficial effect. On the second day of his accident he was able to
rise. But these occurrences in wild countries always cause long
troubles. Kannena, who obtained from Sultan Kanoni, as blood-money, a
small girl and a large sheep, declared that the man might die, and
insisted upon my forthwith depositing, in case of such contingency,
eight cloths, which, should the wound not prove fatal, would be
returned. The latter clause might have been omitted; in these lands,
_nescit_ cloth _missa reverti_. As we were about to leave Ujiji, Kannena
claimed for the man’s subsistence forty cloths,--or as equivalent, three
slaves and six cloths--which also it was necessary to pay. A report was
afterwards spread that the wretch had sunk under his wound. Valentine
heard the intelligence with all that philosophy which distinguishes his
race when mishaps occur to any but self. His prowess, however, cost me
forty-eight dollars, here worth at least £100 in England. Still I had
reason to congratulate myself that matters had not been worse. Had the
victim been a Mjiji freeman, the trouble, annoyances, and expense would
have been interminable. Had he been a Mrundi, we should have been
compelled to fight our way, through a shower of arrows, to the boats;
war would have extended to Ujiji, and “England,” as usual, would have
had to pay the expenses. When Said bin Salim heard at Kazeh a distorted
account of this mishap--of course it was reported that “Haji Abdullah”
killed the man--he hit upon a notable device. Lurinda, the headman of
Gungu, had often begged the Arab to enter into “blood-brotherhood” with
him, and this had Said bin Salim pertinaciously refused, on religious
grounds, to do. When informed that battle and murder were in the wind,
he at once made fraternity with Lurinda, hoping to derive protection
from his spear. His terrors afterwards persuaded him to do the same with
Kannena: indeed at that time he would have hailed a slave as “Ndugu
yango!” (my brother!)

When Kannena returned successful from his visit to Kanoni, we prepared
to leave Wafanya. The fierce rain and the nightly drizzle detained us,
however, till the next morning. On the 11th May we paddled round the
southern point of Wafanya Bay to Makimoni, a little grassy inlet, where
the canoes were defended from the heavy surf.

After this all was easy. We rattled paddles on the 12th May, as we
entered our “patrie,” Nyasanga. The next night was spent in Bangwe Bay.
We were too proud to sneak home in the dark; we had done something
deserving a Certain Cross, we were heroes, braves of braves; we wanted
to be looked at by the fair, to be howled at by the valiant. Early on
the morning of the 13th May we appeared with shots, shouts, and a
shocking noise, at the reed-lined gap of sand that forms the ghaut of
Kawele. It was truly a triumphal entrance. All the people of that
country-side had collected to welcome the crew, women and children, as
well as men, pressed waist-deep into the water to receive friend and
relative with becoming affection:--the gestures, the clamour, and the
other peculiarities of the excited mob I must really leave to the
reader’s imagination; the memory is too much for me.

But true merit is always modest; it aspires to Honor, not honours. The
Wagungu, or whites, were repeatedly “called for.” I broke, however,
through the sudant, strident, hircine throng, and regaining, with the
aid of Riza’s strong arm, the old Tembe, was salaamed to by the
expectant Said bid Salim and the Jemadar. It felt like a return home.
But I had left, before my departure, with my Arab chargé-d’affaires,
four small loads of cloth, and on inspecting the supplies there remained
only ten shukkah. I naturally inquired what had become of the 110
others, which had thus prematurely disappeared. Said bin Salim replied
by showing a small pile of grain-bags, and by informing me that he had
hired twenty porters for the down-march. He volunteered, it is true, in
case I felt disposed to finish the Periplus of the Lake, to return to
Kazeh and to superintend the transmission of our reserve supplies; as,
however, he at the same time gave me to understand that he could not
escort them back to Ujiji, I thanked him for his offer, and declined it.

We had expended upwards of a month--from the 10th April to the 13th May,
1858--in this voyage fifteen days outward bound, nine at Uvira, and nine
in returning. The boating was rather a severe trial. We had no means of
resting the back; the holds of the canoes, besides being knee-deep in
water, were disgracefully crowded;--they had been appropriated to us and
our four servants by Kannena, but by degrees, he introduced in addition
to the sticks, spears, broken vases, pots, and gourds, a goat, two or
three small boys, one or two sick sailors, the little slave-girl and the
large sheep. The canoes were top-heavy with the number of their crew,
and the shipping of many seas spoilt our tents, and besides, wetted our
salt, and soddened our grain and flour; the gunpowder was damaged, and
the guns were honeycombed with rust. Besides the splashing of the
paddles and the dashing of waves, heavy showers fell almost every day
and night, and the intervals were bursts of burning sunshine.

The discomfort of the halt was not less than that of the boat. At first
we pitched tents near the villages, in tall, fetid grass, upon ground
never level, where stones were the succedanea for tent-pegs stolen for
fuel, and where we slept literally upon mire. The temperature inside was
ever in extremes, now a raw rainy cold, then a steam-bath that damped us
like an April shower. The villagers, especially in the remoter
districts, were even more troublesome, noisy, and inquisitive, than the
Wagogo. A “notable passion of wonder” appeared in them. We felt like
baited bears: we were mobbed in a moment, and scrutinised from every
point of view by them; the inquisitive wretches stood on tiptoe, they
squatted on their hams, they bent sideways, they thrust forth their
necks like hissing geese to vary the prospect. Their eyes, “glaring
lightning-like out of their heads,” as old Homer hath it, seemed to
devour us; in the ecstasy of curiosity they shifted from one Muzungu to
his “brother,” till, like the well-known ass between the two bundles of
hay, they could not enjoy either. They were pertinacious as flies, to
drive them away was only to invite a return; whilst, worst grief of all,
the women were plain, and their grotesque salutations resembled the
“encounter of two dog-apes.” The Goanese were almost equally honoured,
and the operation of cooking was looked upon as a miracle. At last my
experience in staring enabled me to categorise the infliction as
follows. Firstly, is the stare furtive, when the starer would peep and
peer under the tent, and its reverse, the stare open. Thirdly, is the
stare curious or intelligent, which, generally accompanied with
irreverent laughter regarding our appearance. Fourthly, is the stare
stupid, which denoted the hebete incurious savage. The stare discreet is
that of sultans and great men; the stare indiscreet at unusual seasons
is affected by women and children. Sixthly, is the stare flattering--it
was exceedingly rare, and equally so was the stare contemptuous.
Eighthly, is the stare greedy; it was denoted by the eyes restlessly
bounding from one object to another, never tired, never satisfied.
Ninthly, is the stare peremptory and pertinacious, peculiar to crabbed
age. The dozen concludes with the stare drunken, the stare fierce or
pugnacious, and finally the stare cannibal, which apparently considered
us as articles of diet. At last, weary of the stare by day, and the tent
by night, I preferred inhabiting a bundle of clothes in the wet hold of
the canoe; this, at least, saved the trouble of wading through the
water, of scrambling over the stern, and of making a way between the two
close lines of grumbling and surly blacks that manned the
paddle-benches; whenever, after a meaningless halt, some individual
thought proper to scream out “Safári!” (journey!)

Curious to say, despite all these discomforts our health palpably
improved. My companion, though still uncomfortably deaf, was almost
cured of his blindness. When that ulcerated mouth, which rendered it
necessary for me to live by suction--generally milk and water--for
seventeen days, had returned to its usual state, my strength gradually
increased. Although my feet were still swollen by the perpetual wet and
by the painful funza or entozoon, my hands partially lost their
numbness, and the fingers which before could hold the pen only for a few
minutes were once more able freely to write and sketch. In fact, I date
a slow but sensible progress towards a complete recovery of health from
the days and nights spent in the canoe and upon the mud of the
Tanganyika Lake. Perhaps mind had also acted upon matter; the object of
my mission was now effected, and this thought enabled me to cast off the
burden of grinding care with which the imminent prospect of a failure
had before sorely laden me.

The rainy monsoon broke up on the 14th May, the day after my return to
Kawele, and once more, after six months of incessant storm-wind and
rain, clouds and mists, we had fine, cool mornings, clear warm sun, and
deliciously cold nights. The climate became truly enjoyable, but the
scenery somewhat lost its earlier attractions. The faultless, regular,
and uniform beauty, and the deep stillness of this evergreen land did
not fail to produce that strange, inexplicable melancholy of which most
travellers in tropical countries complain. In this Nature all is
beautiful that meets the eye, all is soft that affects the senses; but
she is a Siren whose pleasures soon pall upon the enjoyer. The mind,
enfeebled perhaps by an enervating climate, is fatigued and wearied by
the monotony of the charms which haunt it; cloyed with costly fare, it
sighs for the rare simplicity of the desert. I have never felt this
sadness in Egypt and Arabia, and was never without it in India and
Zanzibar.

Our outfit, as I have observed, had been reduced to a minimum. Not a
word from Snay bin Amir, my agent at Kazeh, had arrived in reply to my
many missives, and old Want began to stare at us with the stare
peremptory. “Wealth,” say the Arabs, “hath one devil, poverty a dozen,”
and nowhere might a caravan more easily starve than in rich and fertile
Central Africa. Travellers are agreed that in these countries “baggage
is life:” the heartless and inhospitable race will not give a handful of
grain without return, and to use the Moslem phrase, “Allah pity him who
must beg of a beggar!” As usual on such occasions, the Baloch began to
clamour for more rations--they received two cloths per diem--and to
demand a bullock wherewith to celebrate their Eed or greater Festival.
There were several Arab merchants at Kawele, but they had exhausted
their stock in purchasing slaves and ivory. None in fact were so rich as
ourselves, and we were reduced to ten shukkah, ten fundo of coral beads,
and one load of black porcelains, which were perfectly useless. With
this pittance we had to engage hammals for the hammock, to feed
seventy-five mouths, and to fee several Sultans; in fact, to incur the
heavy expenses of marching back 260 miles to Unyanyembe.

Still, with an enviable development of Hope, Said bin Salim determined
that we should reach Kazeh unfamished. We made the necessary
preparations for the journey, patched tents and umbrella, had a grand
washing and scouring day, mended the portmanteaus, and ground the grain
required for a month’s march, hired four porters for the manchil,
distributed ammunition to Said bin Salim and the Baloch, who at once
invested it in slaves, and exchanged with Said bin Majid several pounds
of lead for palm-oil, which would be an economy at the Malagarazi Ferry.
For some days past rumours had reached here that a large caravan of
Wanyamwazi porters, commanded by an Arab merchant, was approaching
Kawele. I was not sanguine enough to expose myself to another
disappointment. Suddenly on the 22d May, frequent musket shots announced
the arrival of strangers, and at noon the Tembe was surrounded with
boxes and bales, porters, slaves, and four “sons of Ramji,” Mbaruko,
Sangora, Khamisi, and Shehe. Shahdad the Baloch, who had been left
behind at Kazeh in love, and in attendance upon his “brother,” Ismail,
who presently died, had charge of a parcel of papers and letters from
Europe, India, and Zanzibar. They were the first received after nearly
eleven months, and of course they brought with them evil tidings,--the
Indian mutinies. _En revanche_, I had a kindly letter from M. Cochet,
Consul of France, and from Mr. Mansfield, of the U.S., who supplied me
with the local news, and added for my edification a very “low-church”
Tract, the first of the family, I opine, that has yet presented itself
in Central Africa. Mr. Frost reported that he had sent at once a letter
apprising me of Lieut.-Colonel Hamaton’s death, and had forwarded the
medical supplies for which I indented from K’hutu: these, as has been
explained, had not reached me. Snay bin Amir also informed me that he
had retained all the packages for which he could find no porters; that
three boxes had been stolen from his “godown;” and finally, that the
second supply, 400 dollars-worth of cloth and beads, for which I had
written at Inenge and had re-written at Ugogo and other places, was
hourly expected to arrive.

This was an unexpected good fortune, happening at a crisis when it was
really wanted. My joy was somewhat damped by inspecting the packs of the
fifteen porters. Twelve were laden with ammunition which was not wanted,
and with munitions _de bouche_, which were: nearly half the bottles of
curry-powder, spices, and cognac were broken, tea, coffee, and sugar,
had been squeezed out of their tin canisters, and much of the rice and
coffee had disappeared. The three remaining loads were one of American
domestics,--sixty shukkahs--and the rest contained fifteen
coral-bracelets and white beads. All were the refuse of their kind: the
good Hindoos at Zanzibar had seized this opportunity to dispose of their
flimsy, damaged, and unsaleable articles. This outfit was sufficient to
carry us comfortably to Unyanyembe. I saw, however, with regret that it
was wholly inadequate for the purpose of exploring the two southern
thirds of the Tanganyika Lake, much less for returning to Zanzibar,
_viâ_ the Nyassa or Maravi Lake, and Kilwa, as I had once dreamed.

I received several visits from our old companion, Muhinna bin Sulayman
of Kazeh, and three men of his party. He did not fail to improve the
fact of his having brought up my supplies in the nick of time. He
required five coil-bracelets and sixteen pounds of beads as my share of
the toll taken from him by the Lord of the Malagarazi Ferry. For the
remaining fifteen coil-bracelets he gave me forty cloths, and for the
load and a half of white beads he exchanged 880 strings of blue
porcelains--a commercial operation by which he cleared without trouble
35 per cent. Encouraged by my facility, he proposed to me the propriety
of paying part of the kuhonga or blackmail claimed from new comers by
Rusimba and Kannena. But facility has its limits: I quietly objected,
and we parted on the best of terms.

[Illustration: A Mnyamwezi.

A Mjiji.

Mugungu Mbaya, “the wicked white man.”

A Mgogo.

Ferry Boat on the Malagarazi River.

A Mzaramo.]




CHAP. XV.

THE TANGANYIKA LAKE AND ITS PERIPLUS.


The Tanganyika Lake, though situated in the unexplored centre of
Intertropical Africa, and until 1858 unvisited by Europeans, has a
traditionary history of its own, extending through more than three
centuries.

“Accounts of a great sea in the interior of Africa obtained (partially
from native travellers) at Congo and Sofala,” reached the Portuguese
settlements on both shores of the continent.[6] The details of de
Barros (first printed in 1852), whilst affording substantially correct
details, such as the length of the Lake--100 leagues--the capability of
navigation, and the one large island--Ubwari--are curiously intermingled
with the errors of theoretical conclusion. Subsequently Pigafetta
(1591), writing upon the authority of Portuguese inquirers, affirms that
there is but one lake (the N’yassa) on the confines of Angola and
Monomotapa, but that there are two lakes (the Nyassa and the
Tanganyika), not lying east and west, as was supposed by Ptolemy of
Alexandria, but north and south of each other, and about 400 miles
asunder, which give birth to the Nile. From that epoch dates the origin
of our modern misconceptions concerning the Lake Region of Central
Intertropical Africa. The Nyassa and the Tanganyika were now blended,
then separated, according to the theories or the information of the
geographer; no explorer ventured to raise from the land of mystery the
veil that invested it; and the “Mombas Mission” added the colophon by
confounding, with the old confusion, the Nyanza or Ukerewe, a third
lake, of which they had heard at Mombasah and elsewhere. It is not
wonderful then that Dr. Vincent suspected the existence or the place of
the Central Lake, or that the more ignorant popularizers of knowledge
confounded the waters of the Nyassa and the Ngami.[7]

  [6] Mr. Cooley’s ‘Memoir on the Geography of N’yassi,’ p. 1. (Vol. XV.
  of 1845, Journal of the Royal Geographical Society.) The extracts from
  Portuguese history in the text are entirely taken from that learned
  paper, which in describing actualities wanted nothing but a solid
  foundation of data. The geographer’s principal informant in 1834 was
  one “Khamisi bin Tani,” civilised into “Khamis bin Osman,” a Msawahili
  of Lamu who having visited the Nyassa, Maravi or Kilwa Lake, pretended
  that he had travelled to the Tanganyika Lake. I cannot allow this
  opportunity to pass without expressing my gratitude to Mr. Cooley for
  his courtesy in supplying me with references and other information.

  [7] In the ‘Westminster Review’ (New Series, No. XX.) occurs the
  following passage, which sufficiently illustrates the assertion in the
  text; the critic is discussing Mr. C. Andersson’s ‘Lake Ngami,’ &c.
  &c. (London, 1856):--“African missionaries, penetrating some little
  distance inland from the S.E., recently brought information, which
  they received second-hand from Arab travellers, of a vast fresh-water
  lake far in the interior, described as being of enormous
  dimensions--as nothing less than a great inland sea. Frequenters of
  the Geographical Society’s meetings in Whitehall-place have observed
  in consequence, on the site which used to be marked in the maps as a
  sandy desert, a blue spot, about the size of the Caspian, and the
  shape of a hideous inflated leech. We trusted that a more accurate
  survey would correct the extreme frightfulness of the supposed form.
  Mr. Andersson has spared us further excitement. The lake turns out to
  be a mirage--a mythus with the smallest conceivable nucleus of fact.
  On the very spot occupied by this great blue leech--long. E. from
  Greenwich 23° and lat. S. 20° 21′--he found a small speck of bitter
  water, something more than twenty miles across, or the size of Lake
  Corrib in Galway. So perishes a phantom which has excited London
  geographers for a whole season.”

  Had the learned reviewer used his eyes or his judgment in
  Whitehall-place, he would not thus have confounded the hypothetic sea
  of the ‘Mombas Mission Map’--a reservoir made to include the three
  several waters of Nyanza, Tanganyika, and Nyassa--in E. long. 24°-29°,
  and _S. lat._ 0° 13′--with the little Ngami explored by Dr.
  Livingstone and a party of friends in August, 1849, and placed by him
  in E. long. 23°, and in _S. lat._ 20° 20′ 21′. The nearest points of
  the two waters are separated by an interval, in round numbers, of 700
  miles.

The earliest name given by theoretical writers to the hypothetical
single lake appears to have been Zembére, Zémbere, Zambre, Zambri, or
Zembre, probably a corruption or dialectic variety of Zambesi, that
river being supposed, like the Nile, the Zaire, the Manisa, and others,
to be derived from it. The word Moravi or Maravi, which still deforms
our maps, is the name of a large tribe or a lordly race like the
Wahinda, dwelling to the south-east and south-west of the Nyassa. In the
seventeenth century Luigi Mariano, a missioner residing at the Rios de
Sena, calls the Central Sea the Lake of Hemosura; his description
however applies to the Nyassa, Maravi or Kilwa Lake, and the word is
probably a corruption of Rusuro or Lusuro, which in the language of
Uhiao signifies a river or flowing water. In the ‘Mombas Mission Map’
the lake is called “See von Uniamesi,” a mere misnomer, as it is
separated by hundreds of miles from the Land of the Moon: the northern
part is termed Ukerewe, by a confusion with the Nyanza Lake and the
southern N’hánjá, for Nyassa, the old Maravi water near Kilwa. It is not
a little curious, however, that Messrs. Cooley and Macqueen should both
have recorded the vernacular name of the northern Lake Tangenyika, so
unaccountably omitted from the ‘Mombas Mission Map.’ The words
Tanganyenka and Tanganyenko used by Dr. Livingstone, who in places
appears to confound the Lake with the Nyanza and the Nyassa, are
palpable mispronunciations.

The African name for the central lake is Tanganyika, signifying an
anastomosis, or a meeting place (sc. of waters,) from ku tanganyika, the
popular word, to join, or meet together: the initial t being changed to
ch--ku changanyika for ku tanganyika--in the lingua Franca of Zanzibar
doubtless gave rise to Mr. Cooley’s “Zanganyika.” The word Tanganyika is
universally used by the Wajiji and other tribes near and upon the Lake.
The Arabs and African strangers, when speaking loosely of it, call it
indifferently the Bahari or Sea, the Ziwa or Pond, and even the Mtoni or
River. The “Sea of Ujiji” would, after the fashion of Easterns, be
limited to the waters in the neighbourhood of that principal depot.

The Tanganyika occupies the centre of the length of the African
continent, which extends from 32° N. to 33° S. latitude, and it lies on
the western extremity of the eastern third of the breadth. Its general
direction is parallel to the inner African line of volcanic action drawn
from Gondar southwards through the regions about Kilima-ngáo
(Kilimanjáro) to Mount Njesa, the eastern wall of the Nyassa Lake. The
general formation suggests, as in the case of the Dead Sea, the idea of
a volcano of depression--not, like the Nyanza or Ukerewe, a vast
reservoir formed by the drainage of mountains. Judging from the eye, the
walls of this basin rise in an almost continuous curtain, rarely waving
and infracted to 2,000 or 3,000 feet above the water-level. The lower
slopes are well wooded: upon the higher summits large trees are said not
to grow; the deficiency of soil, and the prevalence of high fierce winds
would account for the phenomena. The lay is almost due north and south,
and the form a long oval, widening in the central portions and
contracting systematically at both extremities. The length of the bed
was thus calculated: From Ujiji (in S. lat. 4° 55′) to Uvira (in S. lat.
3° 25′), where the narrowing of the breadth evidences approach to the
northern head, was found by exploration a direct distance of 1° 30′ = 90
miles, which, allowing for the interval between Uvira and the river
Rusizi, that forms the northernmost limit, may be increased to 100
rectilinear geographical miles. According to the Arab voyagers, who have
frequently rounded the lake Ujiji in eight stages from the northern, and
twelve from the southern, end of the lake, the extent from Ujiji to the
Marungu River, therefore, is roughly computed at 150 miles. The total of
length, from Uvira, in S. lat. 30° 25′, to Marungu, in S. lat. 7° 20′,
would then be somewhat less than 250 rectilinear geographical miles.
About Ujiji the water appears to vary in breadth from 30 to 35 miles,
but the serpentine form of the banks, with a succession of serrations
and indentations of salient and re-entering angles--some jutting far and
irregularly into the bed--render the estimate of average difficult. The
Arabs agree in correctly stating, that opposite Ujiji the shortest
breadth of the lake is about equal to the channel which divides Zanzibar
from the mainland, or between 23 and 24 miles. At Uvira the breadth
narrows to eight miles. Assuming, therefore, the total length at 250,
and the main breadth at 20, geographical miles, the circumference of the
Tanganyika would represent, in round numbers, a total of 550 miles; the
superficial area, which seems to vary little, covers about 5,000 square
miles; and the drainage from the beginning of the great Central African
depression in Unyamwezi, in E. long. 33° 58′, numbers from the eastward
about 240 miles.

By B. P. thermometer the altitude of the Tanganyika is 1850 feet above
the sea-level, and about 2000 feet below the adjacent plateau of
Unyamwezi and the Nyanza, or northern lake. This difference of level,
even did not high-hill ranges intervene, would preclude the possibility
of that connection between the waters which the Arabs, by a conjecture
natural to inexpert geographers, have maintained to the confusion of the
learned. The topographical situation of the Tanganyika is thus the
centre of a deep synclical depression in the continent, a long
narrow trough in the southern spurs of Urundi, which, with its
mountain-neighbour Karagwah, situated upon the equator, represents the
Inner African portion of the Lunar Mountains. It may be observed that
the parallel of the northern extremity of the Tanganyika nearly
corresponds with the southern creek of the Nyanza, and that they are
separated by an arc of the meridian of about 343 miles.

The water of the Tanganyika appears deliciously sweet and pure after the
salt and bitter, the putrid and slimy produce of the wells, pits, and
pools on the line of march. The people, however, who drink it willingly
when afloat, prefer, when on shore, the little springs which bubble from
its banks. They complain that it does not satisfy thirst, and contrast
it unfavourably with the waters of its rival the Nyanza: it appears
moreover, to corrode metal and leather with exceptional power. The
colour of the pure and transparent mass has apparently two normal
varieties: a dull sea-green--never, however, verdigris-coloured, as in
the shoals of the Zanzibar seas, where the reflected blue of the
atmosphere blends with the yellow of the sandy bottom; the other, a
clear, soft blue--by day rarely deep and dark, like the ultramarine of
the Mediterranean, but resembling the light and milky tints of tropical
seas. Under a strong wind the waves soon rise in yeasty lines, foaming
up from a turbid greenish surface, and the aspect becomes menacing in
the extreme.

It was found impracticable to take soundings of the Tanganyika: the
Arabs, however, agreed in asserting that with lines of several fathoms
they found bottom only near the shores. The shingly sole shelves
rapidly, without steps or overfalls, into blue water. Judging from the
eye, the bottom is sandy and profusely strewn with worn pebbles. Reefs
and washes were observed near the shores; it is impossible to form an
idea of their position or extent, as the crews confine themselves to a
few well-known lines, from which they cannot be persuaded to diverge. No
shoals or shallows were seen at a distance from the coasts, and though
islets are not unfrequent upon the margin, only one was observed or
heard of near the centre.

The affluents of this lake are neither sufficiently numerous nor
considerable to alter by sedimentary deposit the depth or the shape of
the bed. The borders are generally low: a thick fringe of rush and reed,
obviating erosion by the element, conceals the watery margin. Where the
currents beat, they cut out a short and narrow strip of quartzose sand,
profusely strewn with large shingle, gravel, comminuted shells, and
marine exuviæ, with a fringe of drift formed by the joint action of wind
and wave. Beyond this is a shelving plain--the principal locality for
cultivation and settlements. In some parts it is a hard clay
conglomerate; in others, a rich red loam, apparently stained with oxide
of iron; and in others sandy, but everywhere coated with the thickest
vegetation extending up to the background of mountains. The coast is
here and there bluff, with miniature cliffs and headlands, whose
formation is of sandstone strata tilted, broken, and distorted, or small
blocks imbedded in indurated reddish earth. From the water appeared
piles of a dark stone resembling angular basalt, and amongst the
rock-crevices the people find the float-clay, or mountain meal, with
which they decorate their persons and the sterns of their canoes. The
uncultivated hill summits produce various cactaceæ; the sides are
clothed with giant trees, the mvule, the tamarind, and the bauhinia. On
the declines, more precipitous than the Swiss terraces, manioc and
cereals grow luxuriantly, whilst the lowest levels are dark with groves
of plantains and Guinea-palms.

A careful investigation and comparison of statements leads to the belief
that the Tanganyika receives and absorbs the whole river-system--the
net-work of streams, nullahs, and torrents--of that portion of the
Central African depression whose water-shed converges towards the great
reservoir. Geographers will doubt that such a mass, situated at so
considerable an altitude, can maintain its level without an effluent.
Moreover, the freshness of the water would, under normal circumstances,
argue the escape of saline matter washed down by the influents from the
area of drainage. But may not the Tanganyika, situated, like the Dead
Sea, as a reservoir for supplying with humidity the winds which have
parted with their moisture in the barren and arid regions of the south,
maintain its general level by the exact balance of supply and
evaporation? And may not the saline particles deposited in its waters be
wanting in some constituent which renders them evident to the taste? One
point concerning the versant has been proved by these pages, namely,
that the Tanganyika cannot be drained eastward by rents in a subtending
mountain ridge, as was supposed by Dr. Livingstone from an
indiscriminately applied analogy with the ancient head-basin of the
Zambezi. Dr. Livingstone (chap. xxiv. xxvi. et passim) informs his
readers, from report of the Arabs, that the Tanganyika is a large
shallow body of water; in fact, the residuum of a mass anciently much
more extensive. This, however, is not and cannot be the case. In
theorising upon the eastern versant and drainage of the Tanganyika, Dr.
Livingstone seems to have been misled by having observed that the vast
inland sea of geological ages, of which Lake Ngami and its neighbour
Kumadau are now the principal remains, had been desiccated by cracks and
fissures, caused in the subtending soils by earthquakes and sudden
upheavals, which thus opened for the waters an exit into the Indian
Ocean. This may have happened to the Nyassa, or Southern Lake; it must
not, however, be generalized and extended to the Nyanza and the
Tanganyika.

As in Zanzibar, there is little variety of temperature upon the
Tanganyika. The violent easterly gales, which, pouring down from the
cold heights of Usagara, acquire impetus sufficient to carry the current
over Ugogo, Unyamwezi, and Uvinza, are here less distinctly defined.
The periodical winds over the Lake--regular, but not permanent--are the
south-east and the south-west, which also bring up the foulest weather.
The land and sea breezes are felt almost as distinctly as upon the
shores of the Indian Ocean. The breath of the morning, called by the
Arabs El Barad, or the zephyr, sets in from the north. During the day
are light variable breezes, which often subside, when the weather is not
stormy, into calms. In the evenings a gentle afflatus comes up from the
waters. Throughout the dry season the Lake becomes a wind-trap, and a
heavy ground sea rolls towards the shore. In the rains there is less
sea, but accidents occur from sudden and violent storms. The mountainous
breakers of Arab and African informants were not seen; in fact, with a
depth of three feet from ridge to dell, a wave would swamp the largest
laden canoe. Wind-currents are common. Within a few hours a stream will
be traversed, setting strongly to the east, and crossed by a southerly
or south-westerly current. High gales, in certain localities where the
waves set upon a flush, flat shore, drive the waters fifteen to twenty
feet beyond the usual mark. This circumstance may partly explain the
Arab’s belief in a regular Madd wa Jarr--ebb and flow--which Eastern
travellers always declare to have observed upon the Tanganyika and
Nyassa Lakes, and which Mr. Anderson believes to exist in the little
Ngami. A mass of water so large must be, to a certain extent, subject to
tidal influences; but the narrowness of the bed from east to west would
render their effect almost unobservable. Mr. Francis Galton referred me
for the explanation of this phenomenon to a paper ‘On the Seiches of
Lakes,’ by Colonel J. R. Jackson, F.R.G.S., published in the ‘Journal of
the R. G. S.,’ vol. iii. of 1833, in which the learned author refers
the ebb and flow of the waters of Lake Leman, or of Geneva (and of the
lakes of Zurich, Annecy, and Constance), to “an unequal pressure of the
atmosphere on different parts of the lake at the same time; that is, to
the simultaneous effect of columns of air of different weight or
different elasticity, arising from temporary variations of temperature,
or from mechanical causes.”

The scenery and the navigation of the Tanganyika have been illustrated
in the last chapter. Remains only a succinct account of the physical and
ethnological features of its Periplus, carefully collected from
authorities on the spot.

According to the Wajiji, from their country to the Runangwa or Marungu
River, which enters the Lake at the southern point, there are twelve
stages; this Periplus numbers 120 khambi or stations, at most of which,
however, provisions are not procurable. An extended list of fifty-three
principal points was given by the guides; it is omitted, as it contains
nothing beyond mere names. There are, however, sixteen tribes and
districts which claim attention: of these, Ukaranga and Ujiji have
already been described.

The kingdom of Urundi, which lies north of Ujiji, has a sea-face of
about fifty miles; a low strip of exceeding fertility, backed at short
distances by a band of high green hill. This region, rising from the
Lake in a north-easterly direction, culminates into the equatorial mass
of highlands which, under the name of Karagwah, forms the western spinal
prolongation of the Lunar Mountains. The residence of the Mwami, or
chief sultan Mwezi, is near the headstream of the Kitangure (Kitangule),
or River of Karagwah, which rises at a place distant six days’ march
(sixty miles), and bearing north-east from, the Tanganyika. His
settlement, according to the Arabs, is of considerable extent; the huts
are built of rattan, and lions abound in the vicinity.

Urundi differs from the lake regions generally in being a strictly
monarchical country, locally governed by Watware or headmen, who
transmit the customs and collections at stated periods to their
suzerain. The Mwame, it is said, can gather in a short time a large host
of warriors who are the terror of the neighbouring tribes. The Warundi
are evidently natives of a high cold country; they are probably the
“white people resembling Abyssinians,” and dwelling near the Lake, of
whom European geographers have heard from Zanzibar. The complexion
varies from a tawny yellow, the colour of the women, to a clear dark
brown, which is so brightened by the daily use of ochre mixed with
palm-oil, that in few cases the real tint is discernible. The men tattoo
with circles and lines like cupping-cuts; some burn up alti rilievi of
large shining lumps an inch in diameter, a decoration not a little
resembling large boils; others chip the fore teeth like the Wanyamwezi.
Their limbs are stout and well proportioned, many stand upwards of six
feet high, and they bear the appearance of a manly and martial race.
Their dress is the mbugu, worn in the loosest way; their arms are heavy
spears, sime, and unusually strong arrows; their ornaments are beads,
brass wire, and streaks of a carmine-coloured substance, like the red
farinaceous powder called in India gulal, drawn across the head and
forehead. The Waganga, or priests of Urundi, wear a curious hood, a
thatch of long white grass or fibre, cut away at the face and allowed to
depend behind over the shoulders; their half-naked figures,
occasionally rattling wooden clappers, and capering causelessly like
madmen, present a savage and horrid appearance. Honourable women wear
long tobes of American domestics from below the arms to the ankles; they
are followed by hosts of female slaves, and preserve an exceptionally
modest and decorous demeanour. Their features are of the rounded African
type of beauty. Their necks and bosoms support a profusion of sofi and
other various-coloured beads; their foreheads are bound with frontlets,
fillet-like bands of white and coral porcelain, about three fingers
deep, a highly becoming ornament probably derived from Karagwah; and
those who were seen by the Expedition invariably walked about with thin
staves five or six feet long, pointed and knobbed as the walking-sticks
of ancient Egypt.

At the northern extremity of the Urundi sea-face, and at the head of the
Tanganyika, lies the land of Uzige; it is rarely visited except by the
Lakist traders. This people, who, like their neighbours, cannot exist
without some form of traffic, have, it is said, pursued the dows of the
earlier Arab explorers with a flotilla of small canoes; it is probable
that negro traders would be better received. In their country, according
to the guides, six rivers fall into the Tanganyika in due order from the
east: the Kuryamavenge, the Molongwe, the Karindira, the Kariba, the
Kibaiba, and westernmost the Rusizi or Lusizi. The latter is the main
drain of the northern countries, and the best authorities, that is to
say those nearest the spot, unanimously assert that it is an influent.

The races adjoining Uzige, namely, the Wavira on the north-western head
of the Tanganyika, and their southern neighbours, the Wabembe cannibals,
have already been mentioned. The Wasenze inhabit the hills within or
westwards of the Wabembe. Further southwards and opposite Kawele in
Ujiji are the Wagoma highlanders. The lower maritime lands belonging to
the Wagoma supply the gigantic mvule trees required for the largest
canoes. These patriarchs of the forest are felled and shaped with little
axes on the spot; when finished they are pushed and dragged down the
slopes by the workmen, and are launched and paddled over to the shores
of Ujiji.

South of the Wagoma are the Waguhha, who have been mentioned as the
proprietors of the islets south-west of Ujiji. In their lands, according
to the Arabs, is a lake or large water called Mikiziwá, whence the tribe
upon its banks derives its name Wamikiziwá. Through the country of the
Waguhha lies the route to Uruwwa, at present the western terminus of the
Zanzibar trade. The merchant crossing the sea-arm which separates
Kasenge from the mainland of the Tanganyika, strikes towards Uruwwa; the
line runs over low levels shelving towards the lake, cut by a
reticulation of streams unfordable after rain, and varied by hilly and
rolling ground. Provisions are everywhere procurable, but the people,
like the Wavinza, are considered dangerous. At Uruwwa the khete, or
string of beads, is half the size of that current in other countries.
The price of ivory per frasilah is 15 miranga, or 150 large khete of
white, small-blue, and coarse-red porcelain beads, the latter called
Lungenga; besides which a string of sungomaji (pigeon-egg beads), and a
few sámesáme, or coral-beads, are thrown in. The route numbers nine long
or sixteen short stages; the general direction is south-westerly.
Kiyombo, the sultan of Uruwwa, is at present friendly with the Arabs; he
trades in ivory, slaves, and a little copper from Katata or Katanga, a
district distant fifteen marches north-west of Usenda, the now
well-known capital of the great chief Kazembe. The grandfather of the
present Kazembe, the “viceroy” of the country lying south-west of the
Tanganyika, and feudatory to Mwátá yá Nvo, the sovereign of “Uropua,”
was first visited by Dr. Lacerda, governor of the Rios de Sena, in
1798-99. The traveller died, however, after being nine months in the
country, without recording the name and position of the African capital;
the former was supplied by the expedition sent under Major Monteiro and
Captain Gamitto in 1831-32; it is variously pronounced Lucenda, Luenda,
and by the Arabs Usenda, the difference being caused probably by dialect
or inflexion. According to the Arabs, the Kazembe visited by the
Portuguese expedition in 1831, died about 1837, and was succeeded by his
son the present chief. He is described as a man of middle age, of
light-coloured complexion, handsomely dressed in a Surat cap, silk coat,
and embroidered loin cloth; he is rich in copper, ivory, and slaves,
cloth and furniture, muskets and gunpowder. Many Arabs, probably
half-castes, are said to be living with him in high esteem, and the
medium of intercourse is the Kisawahili. Though he has many wives, he
allows his subjects but one each, puts both adulterer and adulteress to
death, and generally punishes by gouging out one or both eyes.

On the Uruwwa route caravans are composed wholly of private slaves; the
races of the Tanganyika will not carry loads, and the Wanyamwezi,
unmaritime savages like the Kafirs, who have a mortal dread and
abhorrence of water, refuse to advance beyond Ujiji. On account of its
dangers, the thriving merchants have hitherto abandoned this line to
debtors and desperate men.

South of Uguhha lies the unimportant tribe of Wat’hembwe, whose
possessions are within sight of Kawele in Ujiji. The race adjoining them
is the Wakatete or Wakadete, and the country is called by the Arabs
Awwal Marungu, on the northern frontier of Marungu. Marungu is one of
the most important divisions of the lands about the Tanganyika. Amayr
bin Said el Shaksi, a sturdy old merchant from Oman, who, wrecked about
twelve years ago on that part of the coast, had spent five months with
the people, living on roots and grasses, divides the region generically
termed Marungu into three distinct provinces--Marungu to the north,
Karungu in the centre, and Urungu on the south. Others mention a western
Marungu, divided from the eastern by the Runangwa River, and they call
the former in contradistinction Marungu Tafuna, from its sultan.

Western Marungu extends according to the Arabs in depth from Ut’hembwe
to the Wabisa, a tribe holding extensive lands westward of the Nyassa
Lake. Travellers from Unyamwezi to K’hokoro meet, near Ufipa, caravans
of the northern Wabisa _en route_ to Kilwa. Between Marungu and Usenda,
the capital of the Kazembe, the road lies through the district of
Kavvire, distant seven marches; thence nine stages conduct them to the
end of the journey. There is an upper land route through Uruwwa for
those travelling from Ujiji to Usenda, and many caravans have passed
from Unyanyembe direct through K’hokoro and Ufipa, to the country of the
Kazembe. Mr. Cooley (“Geography of N’yassi,” p. 7) conjectures that the
Ambios or Imbies, Zimbas or Muzimbas, celebrated by the old Portuguese
historians of Africa on account of an irruption, in 1570, from the north
as far as the Zambezi River, “were no other than the M’Biza, or Moviza,
as they are called by the Portuguese who still occupy its (the Nyassa’s)
south-western banks.” The proper name of this well-known tribe is Wábísá
(in the sing. Mbisá), not Wábíshá, as it is pronounced at Zanzibar,
where every merchant knows “Bisha ivory.” The Wábísá extend according to
the Arabs from the west of the Nyassa or Kilwa Lake towards the south of
the Tanganyika. They dress in bark-cloth, carry down their fine ivory to
Tete and Kilimani (Quillimane); and every four or five years a caravan
appears at Kilwa, where, confounding their hosts with the Portuguese,
they call every Arab “muzungu,” or white man. They are a semi-pastoral
tribe, fond of commerce, and said to be civil and hospitable to
strangers. It must be observed that those geographers are in error who
connect the Wabisa with the Wanyamwezi; they are distinct in manners and
appearance, habits and language. Mr. Cooley has, for instance, asserted
that “the ‘Moviza’ and the ‘Monomoezi’ are similar in physical character
and national marks.” The only mark known to the Wabisa is the kishshah,
or crest of hair; not, as Khamisi Wa Tani asserted to Mr. Cooley (“Inner
Africa laid Open,” p. 61), a dotted line on the nose and forehead;
whereas, the Wanyamwezi, as has been seen, puncture the skin. Thus
Lacerda calls the “Moviza” a frizzled and periwigged people. The Arabs
deny the assertion of Pereira, recorded by Bowdich, that the Moviza,
like the Wahiao, file their teeth.

Marungu is described by the Arabs as a hilly country like Ujiji and
Uvira: the precincts of the lake, however, are here less bold than the
opposite shore. Off the coast lie four or five islands, two of which,
according to the Arabs, are of considerable size; the only name given is
Ukungwe, which appears, however, to be rather the name of the farthest
point visible from Kasenge, and bearing S. 58° E. On the north-western
frontier of Marungu, and about three marches from the lake, is the
district called Utumbara, from Mtumbara its sultan. This Utumbara, which
must not be confounded with the district of the same name in Northern
Unyamwezi, is said by the Arabs to be fifteen to twenty days’ march from
Usenda.

Marungu, though considered dangerous, has often been visited by Arab
merchants. After touching at Kasenge they coast along Uguhha for four
days, not daring to land there in consequence of an event that happened
about 1841-42. A large Arab caravan of 200 armed slaves, led by Mohammed
bin Salih and Sulayman bin Nasir, and with four coadjutors, Abd el Al
and Ibn Habib, Shiahs of Bahrayn, Nasir and Rashid bin Salim el Harisi
(who soon afterwards died at Marungu) took boat to Marungu, and in due
time arrived at Usenda. They completed their cargo, and were returning
in a single boat, when they were persuaded by the Sultan Mtumbara to
land, and to assist him in annihilating a neighbour, Sámá or Kipyoká,
living at about one day’s march from the Lake. The Arabs, aided by
Africans, attacked a boma, or palisade, where, bursting in, they found
Sámá’s brother sitting upon pombe, with his wife. The villagers poured
in a shower of arrows, to which the Arabs replied by shooting down the
happy couple over their cups. Sámá’s people fled, but presently
returning they massacred the slaves of the Arabs, who were obliged to
take refuge in the grass till aid was afforded by their employer
Mtumbara. Sámá, thus victorious, burned the Arab boat, and, compelling
the merchants to return to Usenda, seized the first opportunity of
slaying his rival. The Arabs have found means of sending letters to
their friends, but they appear unable to leave the country. Their
correspondence declares them to be living in favour with the Kazembe,
who has presented them with large rice-shambas, that they have collected
ivory and copper in large quantities, but are unable to find porters.
This being highly improbable in a land where in 1807 a slave cost five,
and a tusk of ivory six or seven squares of Indian piece-goods, and as,
moreover, several merchants, deluded by exaggerated accounts of the
Kazembe’s wealth and liberality, intrusted these men with considerable
ventures, of which no tidings have as yet reached the creditors’ ears,
the more acute Arabs suspect that their countrymen are living from hand
to mouth about Usenda, and are cultivating the land with scant prospect
of quitting it.

The people of Marungu are called Wámbozwá by the Arabs; they are subject
to no king, but live under local rulers, and are ever at war with their
neighbours. They are a dark and plain, a wild and uncomely race. Amongst
these people is observed a custom which connects them with the Wangindo,
Wahiao, and the slave races dwelling inland from Kilwa. They pierce the
upper lip and gradually enlarge the aperture till the end projects in a
kind of bill beyond the nose and chin, giving to the countenance a
peculiar duck-like appearance. The Arabs, who abhor this hideous vagary
of fashion, scarify the sides of the hole and attempt to make the flesh
grow by the application of rock-salt. The people of Marungu, however,
are little valued as slaves; they are surly and stubborn, exceedingly
depraved, and addicted to desertion.

Crossing the Runangwa or Marungu River, which, draining the southern
countries towards the Tanganyika, is represented to equal the Malagarazi
in volume, the traveller passes through the districts of Marungu Tafuna,
Ubeyya, and Iwemba. Thence, turning to the north, he enters the country
of the Wapoka, between whom and the Lake lie the Wasowwa and the Wafipa.
This coast is divided from the opposite shore by a voyage of fourteen
hours; it is a hilly expanse divided by low plains, where men swarm
according to the natives like ants. At a short distance from the shore
lies the Mvuma group, seven rocks or islets, three of which are
considerable in size, and the largest, shaped like a cone, breeds goats
in plenty, whilst the sea around is rich in fish. There are other islets
in the neighbourhood, but none are of importance.

Ufipa is an extensive district fertilised by many rivers. It produces
grain in abundance, and the wild rice is of excellent flavour. Cattle
abounded there before the Watuta, who held part of the country, began a
system of plunder and waste, which ended in their emigration to the
north of Uvinza; cows, formerly purchased for a few strings of cheap
white beads, are now rare and dear. The Wafipa are a wild but kindly
people, who seldom carry arms: they have ever welcomed the merchants
that visited them for slaves and ivory, and they are subject to four or
five principal chiefs. The servile specimens seen at Unyanyembe were
more like the jungle races of the Deccan than Africans--small and short,
sooty and shrunken men, so timid, ignorant, and suspicious, that it was
found impossible to obtain from them the simplest specimen of their
dialect. Some of them, like the Wanyoro, had extracted all the lower
incisors.

North of the Wafipa, according to the Arabs, lies another tribe, called
Wat’hembe (?), an offshoot from the people on the opposite side of the
Tanganyika. Here the lake receives a small river called the Murunguru
(?). The circuit of the Tanganyika concludes with the Wat’hongwe, called
from their sultan or their founder Wat’hongwe Kapana. In clear weather
their long promontory is the furthest point visible from Kawele in
Ujiji; and their lands extend northwards to Ukaranga and the Malagarazi
River.

Such are the most important details culled from a mass of Arab oral
geography: they are offered however to the reader without any guarantee
of correctness. The principal authorities are the Shaykh Snay bin Amir
el Harsi and Amayr bin Said el Shaksi; the latter was an eye-witness.
All the vague accounts noted down from casual informants were submitted
to them for an imprimatur. Their knowledge and experience surpassing
those of others, it was judged better to record information upon trust
from them only, rather than to heap together reliable and unreliable
details, and as some travellers do, by striking out a medium, inevitably
to confuse fact with fiction. Yet it is the explorer’s unpleasant duty
throughout these lands to doubt everything that has not been subjected
to his own eyes. The boldest might look at the “Mombas Mission Map” and
tremble.

[Illustration: SNAY BIN AMIR’S HOUSE.]

[Illustration: Mganga, or medicine man.

The porter.

The Kirangozi, or guide.

Muinyi Kidogo.

Mother and child.]




CHAP. XVI.

WE RETURN TO UNYANYEMBE.


Immediately after the arrival of our caravan I made preparations for
quitting Ujiji. The 26th May, 1858, was the day appointed for our
departure, which was fated to resemble a flight more than the march of a
peaceful Expedition. Said bin Salim, who had received as “Urangozi” or
retaining-fee from his two African “brothers,” Lurinda and Kannena, a
boy-slave and a youth, thought only of conveying them safely out of the
country. The Baloch, especially the Jemadar, who had invested every
cubit of cloth and every ounce of powder in serviles, were also
trembling at the prospect of desertion. As usual, when these barbarians
see preparations for departure, the Wajiji became more extortionate and
troublesome than before. A general drinking-bout had followed the return
of the crews from Uvira: Kannena had not been sober for a fortnight. At
last his succession of violent and maudlin fits ended fortunately for us
in a high fever, which somewhat tamed his vice. Shortly after our
disappearance, his territory was attacked by the predal Watuta: and had
not the Arabs assisted in its defence, it would doubtless have been
converted into a grisly solitude, like the once fertile and populous
Uhha. Kannena, of course, fled into the mountains from the attack of the
gallant rascals: he had courage enough to bully, but not to fight. I
heard of him no more: he showed no pity to the homeless stranger,--may
the world show none to him!

I shall long remember the morning of the 26th May, which afforded me the
last sunrise-spectacle of the Tanganyika Lake. The charm of the scenery
was perhaps enhanced by the reflection that my eyes might never look
upon it again. Masses of brown-purple clouds covered the quarter of the
heavens where the sun was about to rise. Presently the mists, ruffled
like ocean billows, and luminously fringed with Tyrian purple, were cut
by filmy rays, whilst, from behind their core, the internal living fire
shot forth its broad beams, like the spokes of a huge aërial wheel,
rolling a flood of gold over the light blue waters of the lake. At last
Dan Sol, who at first contented himself with glimmering through the
cloud-mass, disclosed himself in his glory, and dispersed with a glance
the obstacles of the vapourous earth: breaking into long strata and
little pearly flakes, they soared high in the empyrean, whilst the
all-powerful luminary assumed undisputed possession of earth, and a soft
breeze, the breath of the morn, as it is called in the East, awoke the
waters into life.

But I am not long to enjoy this mighty picture. A jarring din sings in
my ears, contrasting strangely with the beautiful world before my eyes.
A crowd of newly-engaged Pagazi are standing before me in the ecstasy of
impatience: some poised like cranes upon the right foot, with the left
sole placed against the knee, others with their arms thrown in a
brotherly fashion round neighbours’ necks, whilst others squatted in the
usual Asiatic and African position, with their posteriora resting upon
their calves and heels, their elbows on their thighs, and their chins
propped upon their hands, gazed at me with that long longing look which
in these lands evidences a something sorely wanted. Presently, from Said
bin Majid’s home-bound caravan, with which I had consented to travel,
shots and a popping of muskets rang through the air: the restless crowd
that still watched me appeared at the sound of this signal to lose their
wits. In a moment the space before the Tembe was cleared. After a few
moments, Said bin Salim ran up violently excited, declaring that his
orders were of no avail, that some parties were starting with, and
others without, their loads, and that no man would take up the burden
assigned to him on the yesterday. I directed him to compose himself, and
since he could not remain, to precede me with the headstrong gang as far
as the Ruche River--the first stage--whence he would send back, as soon
as possible, a few men bribed to carry my hammock and to remove the
loose loads scattered upon the ground. These, as usual on such
occasions, were our own. He departed greatly delighting in the
opportunity of escaping further trouble, and of driving off his six wild
slaves in safety: true to his inconsequential Arabo-African blood,
however, neglecting the appointed station in the eagerness of hurry, he
marched on with Said bin Majid’s men to at least double the distance,
thus placing himself out of Kannena’s reach, and throwing all my
arrangements into direst confusion.

Meanwhile, having breakfasted, we sat till the afternoon in the now
empty and deserted Tembe, expecting the return of the slaves. As none
appeared, I was induced by the utter misery depicted in the countenances
of the Baloch, and trusting that the return-porters would meet us on the
way, to give orders for a march about 4 P.M., to mount my manchil, and
to set out carried by only two men. Scarcely had I left the Tembe when a
small party, headed by Said bin Salim’s four children, passed by me at
speed. Though summoned to halt, they sped onwards, apparently intending
to fetch the loads from the house, and thus to relieve those left behind
as a guard; it proved afterwards that they were bound for the bazar to
buy plantains for their patroon. Meanwhile, hurrying on with one Baloch,
the astute Gul Mohammed, Valentine, and three sons of Ramji, as the
shades of evening closed around us, we reached, without guide or
direction from the surly villagers, the ferry of the Ruche River.
Disappointed at not finding the camp at the place proposed, we were
punted across the Styx-like stream; and for what reason no man could
say, the party took the swampy road along the Bay of Ukaranga. The
mosquitos stung like wasps; the loud spoutings and the hollow bursts of
bellow, snort, and grunt of the hippopotami--in these lands they are
brave as the bulls of the Spanish sierras--and the roar of the old male
crocodile startled the party, whilst the porters had difficulty in
preserving their balance as they waded through water waist-deep, and
crept across plains of mud, mire, and sea-ooze.

As the darkness rendered the march risky, I gave the word, when arrived
at a bunch of miserable huts, for a bivouac; the party, had I permitted
it, would have wandered through the outer glooms without fixed purpose
till permanently bogged. We spread our bedding upon the clear space
between the cane-cones acting hovels, and we snatched, under a
resplendent moon, and a dew that soaked through the blankets, a few
hours of sleep, expecting to be aroused by a guide and porters before
the end of night. Gaetano had preceded us with the provisions and the
_batterie de cuisine_; we were destitute even of tobacco, and we looked
forward expectantly to the march. But the dawn broke, and morning
flashed over the canopy above, and the sun poured his hot rays through
the cool, clear air, still we found ourselves alone. The sons of Ramji,
and the others composing our party, had gradually disappeared, leaving
with us only Gul Mohammed. Taking heart of grace, we then cleared out a
hut, divided the bedding, lay down in the patience of expectation, and
dined on goat. Our neighbour afforded us some food for the mind.
Apparently an Androgyne, she had the voice, the look, and the thorax of
a man, whilst the dress and the manner argued her to be a woman; it was
the only approach to the dubious sex seen by me in East Africa.

About 2 P.M. appeared Ramazan and Salman, children of Said bin Said,
with four porters, an insufficient supply for the long and trying march
which they described. They insisted upon our enduring the heat and
labour of the day so energetically, that they were turned with ignominy
out of the village, and were told to send their master to escort us in
the evening or on the morning of the next day. Accordingly at 9 A.M. of
the 28th May appeared Said bin Salim and the Jemadar, escorted by a
full gang of bearers. The former, bursting with irritation, began that
loud speaking which in the East is equivalent to impertinence; he was
easily silenced by a more explosive and an angrier tone of voice. Having
breakfasted, we set out leisurely, and after rejoining Said bin Majid’s
party we advanced until evening fell upon us at the end of the first
day’s stage.

I have related the tale of our departure from the Tanganyika somewhat
circumstantially: it was truly characteristic of Arab travelling in
Eastern Africa. Said bin Salim had scant cause for hurry: slaves rarely
desert on the day of departure; knowing themselves to be watched they
wait their opportunity, and find it perhaps--as our caravan discovered
to its loss--a week or two afterwards. The Arab was determined to gain a
few miles by passing the appointed station; he did so, and he lost two
days. In his haste and dread of delay, he had neglected to lay in salt,
ghee, or any other stores for the road but grain: consequently he was
detained at half a dozen places to procure them. Finally, his froward
children, who had done their utmost to waste time in the bazar, were not
reproved, much less punished. Truly the half-caste Arab of Zanzibar is
almost as futile as the slavish moiety of his ancestry.

There was little novelty in our return-march to Unyamyembe. We took the
northerly route, crossing and skirting the lower spurs of the mountains
which form the region of Uhha. During the first few stages, being still
within the influence of that bag of Æolus, the Tanganyika trough, we
endured tornados of wind and heavy rain, thunder and lightning. After
the 5th March the threatening clouds drew off, the dank heavy dew
diminished, and the weather became clear and hot, with a raw cold
eastern wind pouring through the tepid temperature, and causing general
sickness. On the 29th May we pitched at Uyonwa, a little settlement of
Wabuha, who have already raised crops of sweet potatoes; if they have
the sense to avoid keeping cattle, the only attraction to the robber
Watuta, they may once more convert the sad waste of Uhha, a wilderness
where men are now wolves to one another, into a land smiling with grains
and fruits. Beyond Uyonwa we hurried over “neat-tongue” hills, separated
by green swamps and black rivulets, with high woody banks, over jungle
paths thick with spear and tiger grass, brambly bush and tall growths of
wild arrowroot, and over a country for the most part rough and rugged,
with here and there an acacia-barren, a bamboo-clump, or a lone Palmyra.
Approaching the Rusugi River, which we forded on the 1st June at the
upper or Parugerero passage, the regular succession of ridge and swamp
gave way to a dry, stony, and thorny slope, rolling with an eastward
decline. We delayed for an hour at the Salt-pass, to lay in a supply of
the necessary, and the temptation to desert became irresistible.
Muhabanya, the “slavey” of the establishment, ran away, carrying off his
property and my hatchet. The Jemadar was rendered almost daft by the
disappearance of half of his six slaves. A Mnyamwezi porter placed his
burden--it was a case of Cognac and vinegar, deeply regretted!--upon the
ground, and levanted. Two other porters lost their way, and disappeared
for some days; their comrades, standing in awe of the Wavinza, would not
venture in search of them. The Kirangozi or Mnyamwezi guide, who had
accompanied the Expedition from the coast, remained behind, because his
newly-purchased slave-girl had become foot-sore, and unable to advance;
finding the case hopeless, he cut off her head, lest of his evil good
might come to another. The party gave the usual amount of trouble. The
bull-headed Mabruki had invested his capital in a small servile, an
infant phenomenon, who, apparently under six years, trotted manfully
alongside the porters, bearing his burden of hide-bed and water-gourd
upon his tiny shoulder. For some days he was to his surly master as her
first doll to a young girl: when tired he was mounted upon the back, and
after crossing every swamp his feet were carefully wiped. When the
novelty, however, wore off, the little unfortunate was so savagely
beaten that I insisted upon his being committed to the far less
hard-hearted Bombay. The Hanmals who carried my manchil were the most
annoying of their kind. Wanyamwezi veterans of the way (their chief man
wore a kizbao or waistcoat, and carried an old Tower musket), originally
five in number, and paid in advance as far as Unyanyembe; they deserted
slowly and surely, till it was necessary to raise a fresh gang. For a
short time they worked well, then they fell off. In the mornings when
their names were called they hid themselves in the huts, or they
squatted pertinaciously near the camp fires, or they rushed ahead of the
party. On the road they hurried forwards, recklessly dashing the
manchil, without pity or remorse, against stock and stone. A man allowed
to lag behind never appeared again on that march, and more than once
they attempted to place the hammock on the ground and to strike for
increase of wages, till brought to a sense of their duty by a
sword-point applied to their ribs. They would halt for an hour to boil
their sweet potatoes, but if I required the delay of five minutes, or
the advance of five yards, they became half mad with fidgetiness; they
were as loud-voiced, noisy and insolent, as turbulent and irritable, as
grumbling, importunate, and greedy specimens of the genus _homo_,
species _Africanus_, as I have ever seen, even amongst the “sons of
water” in the canoes of Ujiji. In these lands, however, the traveller
who cannot utilise the raw material that comes to hand will make but
little progress.

On the 2nd June we fell into our former route at Jambeho, in the
alluvial valley of the Malagarazi River. The party was pitched in two
places by the mismanagement of Said bin Salim; already the porters began
to raise loud cries of Posho! (provaunt!) and their dread of the Wavinza
increased as they approached the Malagarazi Ferry. The land in the
higher levels was already drying up, the vegetation had changed from
green to yellow, and the strips of grassy and tree-clad rock,
buttressing the left bank of the river, afforded those magnificent
spectacles of conflagration which have ever been favourite themes with
the Indian muse:--

                          “silence profound
  Enwraps the forest, save where bubbling springs
  Gush from the rock, or where the echoing hills
  Give back the tiger’s roar, or where the boughs
  Burst into crackling flame and wide extends
  The blaze the Dragon’s fiery breath has kindled.”

  WILSON’s _Uttara Rama Cheritra_, act 2.

A sheet of flame, beginning with the size of a spark, overspread the
hill-side, advancing on the wings of the wind, with the roaring rushing
sound of many hosts where the grass lay thick, shooting huge forky
tongues high into the dark air, where tall trees, the patriarchs of the
forest, yielded their lives to the blast, smouldering and darkening, as
if about to be quenched where the rock afforded scanty fuel, then
flickering, blazing up and soaring again till topping the brow of the
hill, the sheet became a thin line of fire, and gradually vanished from
the view, leaving its reflection upon the canopy of lurid smoke studded
with sparks and bits of live braise, which marked its descent on the
other side of the buttress. Resuming our march along the cold and foggy
vale of the Malagarazi, and crossing on the third day the stony slabby
hills that bound the fluviatile plain northward, we reached, on the 4th
June, the dreaded ferry-place of the river.

The great Malagarazi still swollen, though the rains had ceased, by the
surplus moisture of the sopped earth, had spread its wide heart of
shallow waters, variegated with narrow veins--a deeper artery in the
centre showing the main stream--far over the plain. Thus offering
additional obstacles to crossing, it was turned to good account by the
Mutware, the Lord of the Ferry. On arrival at the Kraal overlooking the
river I summoned this Charon, who demanded as his preliminary obolus one
pot of oil, seven cloths, and 300 khete of blue porcelains. Said bin
Majid, our companion, paid about one-fifth the sum. But the Kraal was
uncomfortable, we were stung out by armies of ants; a slight earthquake,
at 11.15 A.M., on the 4th June, appeared a bad omen to Said bin Salim:
briefly, I was compelled to countenance the extortion. On the next
morning we set out, having been cannily preceded by Said bin Majid.
Every difficulty was thrown in the way of our boxes and baggage. Often,
when I refused the exorbitant sum of four and even five khete per load,
the fellows quietly poled off, squatted in their canoes, and required to
be summoned back by Said bin Salim with the abjectest concessions. They
would not take on board a Goanese or a Baloch without extra pay, and
they landed, under some pretext, Said bin Salim and the Jemadar upon a
dry knoll in the waste of waters, and demanded and received a cloth
before they would rescue them. In these and kindred manœuvres nearly
seven hours were expended; no accidents, however, occurred, and at 4
P.M. we saw ourselves, with hearts relieved of some load, once more at
Ugogo, on the left bank of the river. I found my companion, who had
preceded me, in treaty for the purchase of a little pig; fortunately the
beads would not persuade the porters to part with it, consequently my
pots escaped pollution.

An eventless march of twelve days led from the Malagarazi Ferry to
Unyanyembe. Avoiding the _détour_ to Msene we followed this time the
more direct southern route. I had expected again to find the
treacle-like surface over which we had before crept, and perhaps even in
a worse state; but the inundations compelled the porters to skirt the
little hills bounding the swamps. Provisions--rice, holcus and panicum,
manioc, cucumbers and sweet potatoes, pulse, ground-nuts, and
tobacco--became plentiful as we progressed; the arrowroot and the bhang
plant flourished wild, and plantains and palmyras were scattered over
the land. On the 8th June, emerging from inhospitable Uvinza into
neutral ground, we were pronounced to be out of danger, and on the next
day, when in the meridian of Usagozi, we were admitted for the first
time to the comfort of a village. Three days afterwards we separated
from Said bin Majid. Having a valuable store of tusks, he had but half
loaded his porters; he also half fed them: the consequence was that they
marched like mad men, and ours followed like a flock of sheep. He would
not incur the danger and expense of visiting a settlement, and he
pitched in the bush, where provisions were the least obtainable. When I
told him that we must part company, he deprecated the measure with his
stock statement, viz. that at the distance of an hour’s march there was
a fine safe village full of provisions, and well fitted for a halt. The
hour’s march proved a long stage of nearly sixteen miles, over a
remarkably toilsome country, a foul jungle with tsetse-haunted
thorn-bushes, swamps, and inundated lands, ending at a wretched cluster
of huts, which could supply nothing but a tough old hen. I was sorry to
part with the Arab merchant, a civil man, and a well-informed, yet
somewhat addicted to begging like all his people. His marching freaks,
however, were unendurable, dawdling at the beginning of the journey,
rushing through the middle, and lagging at the end. We afterwards passed
him on the road, of course he had been delayed, and subsequently, during
a long halt at Unyanyembe, he frequently visited me.

On the 17th June the caravan, after sundry difficulties, caused by
desertion, passed on to Irora the village of Salim bin Salih, who this
time received us hospitably enough. Thence we first sighted the blue
hills of Unyanyembe, our destination. The next day saw us at Yombo,
where, by good accident, we met a batch of seven cloth-bales and one box
_en route_ to Ujiji, under charge of our old enemy Salim bin Sayf of
Dut’humi. My complaint against “Msopora,” forwarded from Zuryomero, had,
after Lieut.-Col. Hamerton’s decease, on the 5th July 1857, been laid by
M. Cochet, Consul de France, before H. M. the Sayyid Majid,--a fact
which accounts for the readiness with which our effects were on this
occasion delivered up, and for the non-appearance of the individual in
person. We also received the second packet of letters which reached us
during that year: as usual, they-were full of evil news. Almost every
one had lost some relation or friend near and dear to him: even Said
bin Salim’s hearth had been spoiled of its chief attraction, an only
son, who, born it was supposed in consequence of my “barakat”
(propitious influence), had been named Abdullah. Such tidings are
severely felt by the wanderer who, living long behind the world, and
unable to mark its gradual changes, lulls, by dwelling upon the past,
apprehension into a belief that his home has known no loss, and who
expects again to meet each old familiar face ready to smile upon his
return as it was to weep at his departure.

After a day’s halt to collect porters at Yombo, we marched from it on
the 20th June, and passing the scene of our former miseries, the village
under the lumpy hill, “Zimbili,” we re-entered Kazeh. There I was warmly
welcomed by the hospitable Snay bin Amir, who, after seating us to
coffee, as is the custom, for a few minutes in his Barzah or ante-room,
led us to the old abode, which had been carefully repaired, swept, and
plastered. There a large metal tray bending under succulent dishes of
rice and curried fowl, giblets and manioc boiled in the cream of the
ground-nut, and sugared omelets flavoured with ghee and onion shreds,
presented peculiar attractions to half-starved travellers.

Our return from Ujiji to Unyanyembe was thus accomplished in twenty-two
stations, which, halts included, occupied a total of twenty-six days,
from the 26th May to the 20th June 1858, and the distance along the road
may be computed at 265 statute miles.

After a day’s repose at Kazeh, I was called upon, as “etiquette”
directs, by the few Arab merchants there present. Musa Mzuri, the
Indian, was still absent at Karagwah, and the greater part of the
commercial body was scattered in trading-trips over the country. I had
the satisfaction of finding that my last indent on Zanzibar for 400
dollars’ worth of cloth and beads had arrived under the charge of Tani
bin Sulayyam, who claimed four Gorah or pieces for safe conduct. I also
recovered, though not without some display of force, the table and chair
left by the escort and the slaves in the Dungomaro Nullah. The articles
had been found by one Muinyi Khamisi, a peddling and not over-honest
Msawahili, who demanded an unconscionable sum for porterage, and whose
head-piece assumed the appearance of a coal-scuttle when rewarded with
the six cloths proposed by Snay bin Amir. The debauched Wazira, who had
remained behind at Msene, appeared with an abundance of drunken smiles,
sideling in at the doorway, which he scratched _more Africano_ with one
set of five nails, whilst the other was applied to a similar purpose _à
posteriori_. He was ejected, despite his loud asseverations that he, and
he only, could clear us through the dangerous Wagogo. The sons of Ramji,
who, travelling from Msene, had entered Kazeh on the day preceding our
arrival, came to the house _en masse_, headed by Kidogo, with all the
jaunty and _sans-souci_ gait and manner of yore. I had imagined that by
that time they would have found their way to the coast. I saw no reason,
however, for re-engaging them, and they at once returned to the gaieties
of their capital.

During the first week following the march all paid the inevitable
penalty of a toilsome trudge through a perilous jungly country, in the
deadliest season of the year, when the waters are drying up under a
fiery sun, and a violent _vent de bise_ from the East, which pours
through the tepid air like cold water into a warm bath. Again I suffered
severely from swelling and numbness of the extremities, and strength
returned by tantalisingly slow degrees. My companion was a martyr to
obstinate deafness and to a dimness of vision, which incapacitated him
from reading, writing, and observing correctly. Both the Goanese were
prostrated by fever, followed by severe rheumatism and liver-pains. In
the case of Valentine, who, after a few hours lay deprived of sense and
sensation, quinine appearing useless--the malady only changed from a
quotidian to a tertian type--I resolved to try the Tinctura Warburgii,
which had been used with such effect by Lieut.-Col. Hamerton at
Zanzibar. “O true apothecary!” The result was quasi-miraculous. The
anticipated paroxysm did not return; the painful emetism at once ceased;
instead of a death-like lethargy, a sweet childish sleep again visited
his aching eyes, and, chief boon of all to those so affected, the
corroding thirst gave way to an appetite, followed by sound if not
strong digestion. Finally, the painful and dangerous consequences of the
disease were averted, and the subsequent attacks were scarcely worthy of
notice. I feel bound in justice, after a personal experiment, which
ended similarly, to pay this humble tribute of gratitude to Dr.
Warburg’s invaluable discovery. The Baloch, in their turn, yielded to
the effects of malaria, many complained of ulcerations and prurigo, and
their recovery was protracted by a surfeit of food and its consequences.
But, under the influence of narcotics, tonics, and stimulants, we
presently progressed towards convalescence; and stronger than any
physical relief, in my case, was the moral effect of success, and the
cessation of the ghastly doubts and cares, and of the terrible wear and
tear of mind which, from the coast to Uvira, had never been absent. I
felt the proud consciousness of having done my best, under conditions
from beginning to end the worst and the most unpromising, and that
whatever future evils Fate might have in store for me, that it could not
rob me of the meed won by the hardships and sufferings of the past.

Several Arab merchants were preparing to return coastwards for the
“Mausim” (monsoon), or Indian trading-season, which, at Zanzibar,
includes the months of December, January, and February, and they were
not unwilling to avail themselves of my escort. But several reasons
detained me at Kazeh. Some time was required to make preparations for
the long down march. I had not given up the project of returning to the
seaboard _viâ_ Kilwa. Moreover, it was judged advisable to collect from
the Arabs details concerning the interesting countries lying to the
north and south of the line traversed by the Expedition. As has been
mentioned in Chap. XI., the merchants had detailed to me, during my
first halt at Kazeh, their discovery of a large Bahr--a sea or
lake--lying fifteen or sixteen marches to the north; and from their
descriptions and bearings, my companion had laid down the water in a
hand-map forwarded to the Royal Geographical Society. All agreed in
claiming for it superiority of size over the Tanganyika Lake. I saw at
once that the existence of this hitherto unknown basin would explain
many discrepancies promulgated by speculative geographers, more
especially the notable and deceptive differences of distances, caused by
the confusion of the two waters.[8] Remained only to ascertain if the
Arabs had not, with the usual Oriental hyperbole, exaggerated the
dimensions of the Northern Lake.

  [8] Mr. Erhardt, for instance, “Memoir on the Chart of East and
  Central Africa, compiled by J. Erhardt and J. Rebmann, London, 1856,”
  announces the “existence of a Great Lake, called in the south Niandsha
  (Nyassa), in the north Ukerewe, and on the coast Niasa and Bahari ya
  Uniamesi,” makes the distance through Dschaga (Chhaga) and the Masai
  plains only fifty-nine marches.

My companion, who had recovered strength from the repose and the
comparative comfort of our head-quarters, appeared a fit person to be
detached upon this duty; moreover, his presence at Kazeh was by no means
desirable. To associate at the same time with Arabs and Anglo-Indians,
who are ready to take offence when it is least intended, who expect
servility as their due, and whose morgue of colour induces them to treat
all skins a shade darker than their own as “niggers,” is even more
difficult than to avoid a rupture when placed between two friends who
have quarrelled with each other. Moreover, in this case, the difficulty
was exaggerated by the Anglo-Indian’s complete ignorance of Eastern
manners and customs, and of any Oriental language beyond, at least, a
few words of the debased Anglo-Indian jargon.

I have dwelt upon this subject because my companion has thought proper
to represent (in Blackwood, Oct. 1859) that I was “most unfortunately
quite done up, but most graciously consented to wait with the Arabs and
recruit health.” This is far from being the fact. I had other and more
important matter to work out. Writing from the spot (Unyanyembe, 2nd
July 1858, and published in the Proceedings of the Royal Geographical
Society, 24th Jan. 1859) my companion represents the case somewhat
differently. “To diminish the disappointment, caused by the short-coming
of our cloth, in not seeing the whole of the Sea Ujiji, I have proposed
to take a flying trip to the unknown lake, while Captain Burton prepares
for our return homewards.”

On the 30th June the subject was brought forward in the presence of Said
bin Salim and the Baloch. The former happily lodged at Kazeh, felt loath
to tear himself from the massive arms of his charmer Halimah. He
finessed as usual, giving an evasive answer, viz. that he could not
decide till the last day, and he declined to influence the escort, who
afterwards declared that he had done all in his power to deter them from
the journey. In vain my companion threatened him with forfeiture of his
reward after he returned to Zanzibar; in vain my companion told him that
it was forfeited.[9] He held firm, and I was not over-anxious in
influencing him, well knowing that though the Baloch, a stolid race,
might prove manageable, the brain of the Machiavellian Arab, whose
egregious selfishness never hesitated at any measure calculated to
ensure its gratification, was of a somewhat too heavy metal for the
article opposed to it. That Said bin Salim attempted to thwart the
project I have no doubt. The Kirangozi, and the fifteen porters hired
from his village with the tempting offer of five cloths per man, showed
an amount of fear and shirking hardly justified by the real risks of
treading so well known a tract. The Jemadar and his men at first
positively refused their escort, but the meaning word “Bakhshish”
slipping in reassured me. After informing them that in case of recusancy
their rations should be stopped, I inquired the amount of _largesse_
expected. The ten efficient men composing the guard demanded fifteen
cloths a piece, besides one porter each to carry their matchlocks and
pervanents. The number of the porters was reduced, the cloth was
procured from an Arab merchant, Sayf bin Said el Wardi, at an expense of
one hundred dollars, made payable by draught upon Ladha Damha of
Zanzibar: at the same time, the Baloch were warned that they must option
between this and the reward conditionally promised to them after
return.[10] Their bad example was followed by the old and faithful
servant “Bombay,” who required instant dismissal unless he also received
cloth before the journey: he was too useful to my companion as
interpreter and steward to be lightly parted with. But the granting his
claim led to a similar strike and menace on the part of the bull-headed
slave Mabruki, who, being merely a “headache” to me, at once “got the
sack” till he promised, if pardoned, to shake off his fear, and not to
be naughty in future. By dint of severe exertion my companion was
enabled to leave Kazeh on the 10th July.

  [9] I transcribe the following words from my companion’s paper
  (Blackwood, October 1859): “I urged that it was as much his (Said bin
  Salim’s) duty as mine to go there; and said, unless he changed his
  present resolution, I should certainly recommend the Government not to
  pay the gratuity which the consul had promised him on condition that
  he worked entirely to our satisfaction, in assisting the Expedition to
  carry out the Government’s plans.”

  [10] So my report printed in the Proceedings Roy. Geog. Soc. loco cit.
  “Our asses, thirty in number, all died, our porters ran away, our
  goods were left behind; our black escort became so unmanageable as to
  require dismissal; the weakness of our party invited attacks, and our
  wretched Baloch deserted us in the jungle, and throughout have
  occasioned an infinity of trouble.”

I proceed to recount the most important portion of the information--for
ampler details the reader is referred to the Journal of the Royal
Geographical Society--collected during my halt at Kazeh from various
sources, Arab and African, especially from Snay bin Amir, concerning--


THE NORTHERN KINGDOMS: KARAGWAH, UGANDA, AND UNYORO.

The extensive and hitherto unknown countries described in this chapter,
being compact despotisms, resembling those of Ashanti and Dahomey more
than the semi-monarchies of Unyamwezi and Urundi, or the barbarous
republics of Uvinza and Ujiji, are designated the Northern Kingdoms. It
is regrettable that oral information, and not the results of actual
investigation, are offered to the reader concerning regions so
interesting as the Southern Tanganyika, the Northern Kingdoms, and the
provinces south of Unyanyembe. But absolute obstacles having interfered,
it was judged advisable to use the labours of others rather than to omit
all notice of a subject which has the importance of novelty, because it
lacked the advantages of a regular exploration.

Informants agree in representing the northern races as superior in
civilisation and social constitution to the other tribes of Eastern and
Central Africa. Like the subjects of the Kazembe, they have built
extensive and regular settlements, and they reverence even to worship a
single despot, who rules with a rigour which in Europe would be called
barbarity. Having thrown off the rude equality of their neighbours, they
recognise ranks in society; there is order amongst men, and some idea of
honour in women; they add to commerce credit, without which commerce can
hardly exist; and they hospitably entertain strangers and guests. These
accounts are confirmed by the specimens of male and female slaves from
Karagwah and Uganda seen at Unyanyembe: between them and the southern
races there is a marked physical difference. Their heads are of a
superior cast: the regions where the reflective faculties and the moral
sentiments, especially benevolence, are placed, rise high; the nose is
more of the Caucasian type; the immoderate masticating apparatus which
gives to the negro and the lower negroid his peculiar aspect of
animality, is greatly modified, and the expression of the countenance is
soft, kindly, and not deficient in intelligence.

From Unyanyembe to Kibuga, the capital of Uganda, are fifty-three
stages, which are distributed into four crucial stations of Usui,
Karagwah, dependent Unyoro, and Uganda. A few remarks concerning each of
these divisions may not be unacceptable.

Between Unyanyembe and Usui are sixteen long, or nineteen short, stages.
Though the road is for the most part rough and hilly, the marches can
scarcely be reduced below ten statute, or six rectilinear geo. miles per
diem; in fact, the geographer’s danger when making these estimates is,
that of falling, through fear of exaggeration, into the opposite and
equally incorrect extreme. The general direction of the line leading
from Kazeh, in Unyanyembe, to Karagwah, pointed out by Snay bin Amir,
bore 345° (corrected 332°); the length of the nineteen marches would be
about 115 geo. miles. The southern frontier of Usui may, therefore, be
safely placed in S. lat. 3° 10′.

The route from Kazeh to Usui falls at once westward of the line leading
to the Nyanza Lake; it diverges, however, but little at first, as they
both traverse the small districts of Ulikampuri, Unyambewa, and Ukuni.
Usonga, crossed in five short marches, is the first considerable
district north of Unyanyembe. Thence the road enters the province of
Utumbara, which is flanked on the east by Usambiro, and on the west by
Uyungu, governed by the Muhinda Sultan, Kanze. Utumbara, as has been
mentioned, was lately plundered, and Ruhembe, its chief, was slain, by
the predatory Watuta. In Utumbara and Usambiro the people are chiefly
the Wafyoma, a tribe of Wanyamwezi: they are a commercial race, like the
Wajiji--trafficking in hoes and ivory; and their present Sultan,
Mutawazi, has often been visited by the Arabs. Uyofu, governed by
Mnyamurunda, is the northern boundary of Unyamwezi, after which the
route enters the ill famed territory of Usui.

Usui is traversed in seven marches, making a sum of twenty-six from
Kazeh. According to the former computation, a total march of about 156
geo. miles would place the southern frontier of Karagwah in S. lat. 2°
40′. The road in several parts discloses a view of the Nyanza Lake. Usui
is described as a kind of neutral ground between the rolling plateau of
Unyamwezi and the highlands of Karagwah: it is broken by ridges in two
places--Nyakasene the fourth, and Ruhembe the seventh stage, where
mention is also made of a small stream. From this part of the country a
wild nutmeg is brought to Kazeh by caravans: the Arabs declare that it
grows upon the well-wooded hills, and the only specimen shown was heavy
and well flavoured, presenting a marked contrast to the poor produce of
Zanzibar island.

The Wasúí, according to the Arabs, are not Wanyamwezi. They are
considered dangerous, and they have frequently cut off the route to
caravans from Karagwah. Their principal sultan, a Muhinda named
Suwarora, demands exorbitant blackmail, and is described as troublesome
and overbearing: his bad example has been imitated by his minor chiefs.

The kingdom of Karagwah, which is limited on the north by the Kitangure
or Kitangule River, a great western influent of the Nyanza Lake,
occupies twelve days in traversing. The usual estimate would thus give
it a depth of 72, and place the northern limit about 228 rectilinear
geo. miles from Kazeh, or in S. lat. 1° 40′. But the Kitangure River,
according to the Arabs, falls into the Nyanza diagonally from south-west
to north-east. Its embouchure will, therefore, not be distant from the
equator. The line of road is thus described: After ascending the hills
of Ruhembe the route, deflecting eastward, pursues for three days the
lacustrine plain of the Nyanza. At Tenga, the fourth station, the first
gradient of the Karagwah mountains is crossed, probably at low levels,
where the spurs fall towards the lake. Kafuro is a large district where
merchants halt to trade, in the vicinity of Weranhánjá, the royal
settlement, which commands a distant view of the Nyanza. Nyakahanga, the
eighth stage, is a gradient similar to that of Tenga; and Magugi, the
tenth station, conducts the traveller to the northernmost ridge of
Karagwah. The mountains are described as abrupt and difficult, but not
impracticable for laden asses: they are compared by the Arabs to the
Rubeho chain of Usagara. This would raise them about 4000 feet above the
mean level of the Unyamwezi plateau and the Nyanza water, and about 8000
feet above this sea. Their surface, according to the Arabs, is
alternately earth and stone, the former covered with plantains and huge
timber-trees, the latter bare, probably by reason of their altitude.
There are no plains, bush, or jungle, but the deep ravines and the
valleys intersecting the various ridges drain the surface of the hills,
and are the sites of luxuriant cultivation. The people of Karagwah,
averse to the labour of felling the patriarchs of the forest, burn
“_bois de vache_,” like the natives of Usukuma. North of Magugi, at
Katanda, a broad flat extends eastwards: the path thence descends the
northern counterslope, and falls into the alluvial plain of the
Kitungure River.

Karagwah is thus a mass of highlands, bounded on the north by dependent
Unyoro, on the south by Usui, eastward by the tribes of Wahayya and
Wapororo, upon the lacustrine plain of the Nyanza; on the south-west it
inosculates with Urundi, which has been described as extending from the
north-eastern extremity of the Tanganyika Lake. Its equatorial position
and its altitude enable it to represent the Central African prolongation
of the Lunar Mountains. Ptolemy describes this range, which he supposes
to send forth the White Nile, as stretching across the continent for a
distance of 10° of longitude. For many years this traditional feature
has somewhat fallen into discredit: some geographers have changed the
direction of the line, which, like the Himalayas, forms the base of the
South African triangle from east and west to north and south, thus
converting it into a formation akin to the ghauts or lateral ranges of
the Indian peninsula; whilst others have not hesitated to cast ridicule
upon the mythus. From the explorations of the “Mombas Mission” in
Usumbara, Chhaga, and Kitui, and from the accounts of Arab visitors to
the lands of Umasai and the kingdom of Karagwah, it appears that from
the fifth parallel of S. lat. to the equator, an elevated mass of
granite and sandstone formation crosses from the shores of the Indian
Ocean to the centre of Tropical Africa. The vast limestone band which
extends from the banks of the Burramputra to those of the Tagus appears
to be prolonged as far south as the Eastern Horn, and near the equator
to give place to sandstone formations. The line is not, however, as
might be expected from analogy with the Himalayan, a continuous unbroken
chain; it consists of insulated mountains, apparently volcanic, rising
from elevated plains, and sometimes connected by barren and broken
ridges. The south-eastern threshold of the Lunar cordillera is the
highland region of Usumbara, which may attain the height of 3000 or 4000
feet above sea-level. It leads by a succession of mountain and valley to
Chhaga, whose apex is the “Æthiopian Olympus,” Kilima-Ngao. From this
corner-pillar the line trends westward, and the route to Burkene passes
along the base of the principal elevations, Doengo Engai and Endia
Siriani. Beyond Burkene lies the Nyanza Lake, in a huge gap which,
breaking the continuity of the line, drains the regions westward of
Kilima-Ngao, whilst those to the eastward, the Pangani and other similar
streams, discharge their waters to the south-east into the Indian Ocean.
The kingdom of Karagwah prolongs the line to Urundi, upon the Tanganyika
Lake, where the south-western spurs of the Lunar Mountains form a high
continuous belt. Mr. Petherick, of Khartum, travelling twenty-five
marches, each of twenty miles (?), in a south-south-western and
due-southerly direction from the Bahr el Ghazal, found a granitic ridge
rising, he supposes 2000 to 2500 feet above the plain, near the equator,
and lying nearly upon the same parallel of latitude, and in about 27° E.
long. Beyond that point the land is still unexplored. Thence the
mountains may sink into the great Depression of Central Africa, or,
deflected northwards of the kingdom of Uropua, they may inosculate with
the ridge which, separating the northern negroid races of Islamised
Africa from their negro brethren to the south, is popularly known,
according to Denham and Clapperton, as el-Gibel Gumhr,--Jebel Kamar,--or
Mons Lunæ.

The high woody hills of Karagwah attract a quantity of rain. The long
and copious wet monsoon divides the year into two seasons--a winter of
seven or eight, and a summer of four or five months. The Vuli, or lesser
rains, commence, as at Zanzibar, with the Nayruz (29th of August); and
they continue with little intermission till the burst of the Masika,
which lasts in Karagwah from October to May or June. The winds, as in
Unyamwezi, are the Kaskazi, or north and north-east gales, which shift
during the heavier falls of rain to the Kosi, the west and south-west.
Storms of thunder and lightning are frequent, and the Arabs compare the
down-pour rather to that of Zanzibar island than to the scanty showers
of Unyamwezi. The sowing season at Karagwah, as at Msene and Ujiji,
begins with the Vuli, when maize and millet, the voandzeia, various
kinds of beans and pulse, are committed to the well-hoed ground. Rice
being unknown, the people depend much upon holcus: this cereal, which is
sown in October to prepare for the Masika in November, has, in the
mountains, a short cane and a poor insipid grain of the red variety. The
people convert it into pombe; and they make the wine called mawa from
the plantains, which in several districts are more abundant than the
cereals. Karagwah grows according to some, according to others imports
from the northern countries, along the western margin of the Nyanza
Lake, a small wild coffee, locally called mwámí. Like all wild
productions, it is stunted and undeveloped, and the bean, which, when
perfect, is about the size of a corking-pin’s head, is never drunk in
decoction. The berry gathered unripe is thrown into hot water to defend
it from rot, or to prevent its drying too rapidly--an operation which
converts the husk to a dark chocolate colour--the people of this country
chew it like tobacco, and, during visits, a handful is invariably
presented to the guest. According to the Arabs, it has, like the kishr
of Yemen, stimulating properties, affects the head, prevents somnolency,
renders water sweet to the taste, and forms a pleasant refreshing
beverage, which the palate, however, never confounds with the taste of
the Mocha-berry. In Karagwah a single khete of beads purchases a kubabah
(from 1 lb. to 2 lbs.) of this coffee; at Kazeh and Msene, where it is
sometimes brought by caravans, it sells at fancy prices. Another
well-known production of all these regions is the mt’hípít’hípí, or
Abrus precatorius, whose scarlet seeds are converted into ornaments for
the head.

The cattle is a fine variety, with small humps and large horns, like
that of Ujiji and Uviva. The herds are reckoned by Gundu, or stallions,
in the proportion of 1 to 100 cows. The late Sultan Ndagara is said to
have owned 200 Gundu, or 20,000 cows, which late civil wars have reduced
to 12,000 or 13,000. In Karagwah cattle forms wealth, and everywhere in
Africa wealth, and wealth only, secures defenders and dependants. The
surplus males are killed for beef; this meat, with milk in its various
preparations, and a little of the fine white hill-honey, forms the food
of the higher classes.

The people of Karagwah, who are not, according to South African fashion,
called Wakaragwah, are divided into two orders--Wahuma and Wanyambo--who
seem to bear to each other the relation of patron and client, patrician
and plebeian. The Wahuma comprises the rich, who sometimes possess 1000
head of cattle, and the warriors, a militia paid in the milk of cows
allotted to their temporary use by the king. The Wanyambo--Fellahs or
Ryots--are, it is said, treated by the nobles as slaves. The men of
Karagwah are a tall stout race, doubtless from the effect of pure
mountain-air and animal food. Corpulence is a beauty: girls are fattened
to a vast bulk by drenches of curds and cream thickened with flour, and
are duly disciplined when they refuse. The Arabs describe them as
frequently growing to a monstrous size, like some specimens of female
Boers mentioned by early travellers in Southern Africa. Fresh milk is
the male, sour the female beverage. The complexion is a brown yellow,
like that of the Warundi. The dress of the people, and even of the
chiefs, is an apron of close-grained mbugu, or bark-cloth, softened with
oil, and crimped with fine longitudinal lines made with a batten or
pounding club. In shape it resembles the flap of an English saddle, tied
by a prolongation of the upper corners round the waist. To this scarcely
decent article the chiefs add a languti, or Indian-T-bandage of goat’s
skin. Nudity is not uncommon, and nubile girls assume the veriest
apology for clothing, which is exchanged after marriage for short kilts
and breast coverings of skin. Both sexes wear tiara-shaped and
cravat-formed ornaments of the crimson abrus-seed, pierced and strung
upon mondo, the fine fibre of the mwale or raphia-palm. The weapons are
bows and arrows, spears, knobsticks, and knives; the ornaments are beads
and coil-bracelets, which, with cattle, form the marriage settlement.
The huts are of the conical and circular African shape, with walls of
stakes and roofs so carefully thatched that no rain can penetrate them:
the villages, as in Usagara, are scattered upon the crests and ridges of
the hills.

The Mkámá, or Sultan of Karagwah, in 1858, was Armanika, son of Ndagara,
who, although the dignity is in these lands hereditary, was opposed by
his younger brother Rumanika. The rebel, after an obstinate attack, was
routed by Suna, the late despot of Uganda, who, bribed by the large
present of ivory, which was advanced by Musa Mzuri of Kazeh, then
trading with Armanika, threw a large force into the field. Rumanika was
blinded and pensioned, and about four years ago peace was restored.
Armanika resides in the central district, Weranhanja, and his
settlement, inhabited only by the royal family, contains from forty to
fifty huts. He is described as a man about thirty to thirty-five years
old, tall, sturdy, and sinewy-limbed, resembling the Somal. His dress
is, by preference, the mbugu, or bark-cloth, but he has a large store of
fine raiment presented by his Arab visitors: in ornaments he is
distinguished by tight gaiters of beads extending from knee to ankle.
His diet is meat and milk, with sometimes a little honey, plantains, and
grain: unlike his subjects, he eschews mawa and pombe. He has about a
dozen wives, an unusually moderate allowance for an African chief, and
they have borne him ten or eleven children. The royal family is said to
be a race of centagenarians; they are buried in their garments, sitting
and holding their weapons: when the king dies there is a funeral feast.

Under the Mkama is a single minister, who takes the title of Muhinda,
and presides over the Wakungu, elders and headmen, whose duty it is to
collect and to transmit to the monarch once every month his revenues,
in the shape of slaves and ivory, cattle and provisions. Milk must be
forwarded by proprietors of cows and herds even from a distance of three
days’ march. Armanika is an absolute ruler, and he governs without
squeamishness. Adulterers are punished by heavy fines in cattle,
murderers are speared and beheaded, rebels and thieves are blinded by
gouging out the eyes with the finger-joints of the right-hand, and
severing the muscles. Subjects are forbidden to sell milk to those who
eat beans or salt, for fear of bewitching the animals. The Mkama, who
lives without state or splendour, receives travellers with courtesy.
Hearing of their approach, he orders his slaves to erect four or five
tents for shelter, and he greets them with a large present of
provisions. He demands no blackmail, but the offerer is valued according
to his offerings: the return gifts are carefully proportioned, and for
beads which suit his taste he has sent back an acknowledgment of fifty
slaves and forty cows. The price of adult male slaves varies from eight
to ten fundo of white, green, or blue porcelain-beads: a woman in her
prime costs two kitindi (each equal to one dollar on the coast), and
five or six fundo of mixed beasts. Some of these girls, being
light-coloured and well favoured, sell for sixty dollars at Zanzibar.
The merchants agree in stating that a European would receive in Karagwah
the kindest welcome, but that to support the dignity of the white face a
considerable sum would be required. Arabs still visit Armanika to
purchase slaves, cattle, and ivory, the whitest and softest, the largest
and heaviest in this part of Central Africa. The land is rich in iron,
and the spears of Karagwah, which are, to some extent, tempered, are
preferred to the rude work of the Wafyoma. Sulphur is found, according
to the Arabs, near hot springs amongst the mountains. A species of
manatus (?) supplies a fine skin used for clothing. The simbi, or cowrie
(Cypræa), is the minor currency of the country: it is brought from the
coast by return caravans of Wanyamwezi.

The country of Karagwah is at present the head-quarters of the Watosi, a
pastoral people who are scattered throughout these Lake Regions. They
came, according to tradition, from Usingo, a mountain district lying to
the north of Uhha. They refuse to carry loads, to cultivate the ground,
or to sell one another. Harmless, and therefore unarmed, they are often
plundered, though rarely slain, by other tribes, and they protect
themselves by paying fees in cattle to the chiefs. When the Wahinda are
sultans, the Watosi appear as councillors and elders; but whether this
rank is derived from a foreign and superior origin, or is merely the
price of their presents, cannot be determined. In appearance they are a
tall, comely, and comparatively fair people; hence in some parts every
“distinguished foreigner” is complimented by being addressed as “Mtosi.”
They are said to derive themselves from a single ancestor, and to
consider the surrounding tribes as serviles, from whom they will take
concubines, but to whom they refuse their daughters. Some lodges of this
people were seen about Unyanyembe and Msene, where they live by selling
cattle, milk, and butter. Their villages are poor, dirty, and
unpalisaded; mere scatters of ragged round huts. They have some curious
practices: never eat out of their own houses, and, after returning from
abroad, test, by a peculiar process, the fidelity of their wives before
anointing themselves and entering their houses. The Arabs declare that
they are known by their black gums, which they consider a beauty.

The last feature of importance in Karagwah is the Kitangure River on its
northern frontier. This stream, deriving its name from a large
settlement on its banks, according to some travellers flows through a
rocky trough, according to others it traverses a plain. Some, again,
make it thirty yards, others 600, and even half a mile, in breadth. All
these statements are reconcileable. The river issues from Higher Urundi,
not far from the Malagarazi; but whilst the latter, engaged in the
Depression of Central Africa, is drawn towards the Tanganyika, the
former, falling into the counterslope, is directed to the north-east
into the Nyanza Lake. Its course would thus lie through a
mountain-valley, from which it issues into a lacustrine plain, the
lowlands of Unyoro and Uganda. The dark and swift stream must be crossed
in canoes even during the dry season, but, like the Malagarazi, about
June or at the end of the rains, it debords over the swampy lands of its
lower course.

From the Kitangure River fifteen stations conduct the traveller to
Kibuga, the capital district of Uganda, and the residence of its
powerful despot. The maximum of these marches would be six daily, or a
total of ninety rectilinear geographical miles. Though there are no
hills, the rivers and rivulets--said to be upwards of a hundred in
number--offer serious obstacles to rapid travelling. Assuming then, the
point where the Kitangure River is crossed to be in S. lat. 1° 14′,
Kibuga may be placed in S. lat. 0° 10′. Beyond Weranhanja no traveller
with claims to credibility has seen the Nyanza water. North of Kibuga
all is uncertain; the Arabs were not permitted by Suna, the last despot,
to penetrate farther north.

The two first marches from the Kitangure River traverse the territory
of “dependent Unyoro,” so called because it has lately become subject to
the Sultan of Uganda. In former times Unyoro in crescent-shape, with the
cusps fronting eastwards and westwards, almost encompassed Uganda. From
dependent Unyoro the path, crossing a tract of low jungle, enters Uganda
in the concave of the crescent. The tributary Wahayya, under Gaetawa,
their sultan, still extend to the eastward. North of the Wahayya, of
whose territory little is known, lies “Kittara,” in Kinyoro (or
Kiganda?), a word interpreted to mean “mart,” or “meeting-place.” This
is the region which supplies Karagwah with coffee. The shrub is
propagated by sowing the bean. It attains the height of five feet,
branching out about half-way; it gives fruit after the third, and is in
full vigour after the fifth year. Before almost every hut-door there is
a plantation, forming an effective feature in the landscape of rolling
and wavy hill, intersected by a network of rivers and streams: the
foliage is compared to a green tapestry veiling the ground; and at
times, when the leaves are stripped off by wind and rain, the plant
appears decked with brilliant crimson cherry-like berries. The Katonga
River, crossed at Kitutu, is supposed to fall into the Nyanza, the
general recipient of the network of streams about Karagwah. This
diagonality may result from the compound incline produced by the
northern counterslope of the mountains of Karagwah and the
south-westward depression necessary to form and to supply the lake. The
Katonga is a sluggish and almost stagnant body of considerable breadth,
and when swollen it arrests the progress of caravans. Some portions of
the river are crossed, according to the Arabs, over a thick growth of
aquatic vegetation, which forms a kind of matwork, capable of
supporting a man’s weight, and cattle are towed over in the more open
parts by cords attached to their horns. Four stations lead from the
Katonga River to Kibuga, the capital district of Uganda.

Kibuga is the residence of the great Mkámá or chief of Uganda.
Concerning its population and peculiarities the Arabs must be allowed to
tell their own tale. “Kibuga, the settlement, is not less than a day’s
journey in length; the buildings are of cane and rattan. The sultan’s
palace is at least a mile long, and the circular huts, neatly ranged in
line, are surrounded by a strong fence which has only four gates. Bells
at the several entrances announce the approach of strangers, and guards
in hundreds attend there at all hours. They are commanded by four
chiefs, who are relieved every second day: these men pass the night
under hides raised upon uprights, and their heads are forfeited if they
neglect to attend to the summons of the king. The harem contains about
3000 souls--concubines, slaves, and children. No male nor adult animal
may penetrate, under pain of death, beyond the Barzah, a large vestibule
or hall of audience where the king dispenses justice and receives his
customs. This palace has often been burned down by lightning: on these
occasions the warriors must assemble and extinguish the fire by rolling
over it. The chief of Uganda has but two wants with which he troubles
his visitors--one, a medicine against death; the other, a charm to avert
the thunderbolt: and immense wealth would reward the man who could
supply either of these desiderata.”

Suna, the great despot of Uganda, a warlike chief, who wrested dependent
Unyoro from its former possessor, reigned till 1857. He perished in the
prime of life and suddenly, as the Arabs say, like Namrud, whilst
riding “pickaback”--the state carriage of Central Africa--upon a
minister’s shoulders, he was struck by the shaft of the destroyer in the
midst of his mighty host. As is the custom of barbarous and despotic
races, the event was concealed for some months. When the usual time had
expired, one of his many sons, exchanging his heir-elective name
“Sámunjú” for Mtesa, became king. The court usage compels the newly
elected chief to pass two years in retirement, committing state affairs
to his ministers; little, therefore, is yet known of him. As he will
certainly tread in the footsteps of his sire, the Arabs may again be
allowed to describe the state and grandeur of the defunct Suna; and as
Suna was in fact the whole kingdom of Uganda, the description will
elucidate the condition of the people in general.

“The army of Uganda numbers at least 300,000 men; each brings an egg to
muster, and thus something like a reckoning of the people is made. Each
soldier carries one spear, two assegais, a long dagger, and a shield,
bows and swords being unknown. When marching the host is accompanied by
women and children carrying spare weapons, provisions, and water. In
battle they fight to the sound of drums, which are beaten with sticks
like those of the Franks: should this performance cease, all fly the
field. Wars with the Wanyoro, the Wasoga, and other neighbours are
rendered almost chronic by the policy as well as the pleasure of the
monarch, and there are few days on which a foraging party does not march
from or return to the capital. When the king has no foreign enemies, or
when the exchequer is indecently deficient, he feigns a rebellion,
attacks one of his own provinces, massacres the chief men, and sells off
the peasantry. Executions are frequent, a score being often slain at a
time: when remonstrated with concerning this barbarity, Sana declared
that he had no other secret for keeping his subjects in awe of him, and
for preventing conspiracies. Sometimes the king would accompany his army
to a battue of game, when the warriors were expected to distinguish
themselves by attacking the most ferocious beasts without weapons: even
the elephant, borne down by numbers, yielded to the grasp of man. When
passing a village he used to raise a shout, which was responded to by a
loud flourish of horns, reed-pipes, iron whistles, and similar
instruments. At times he decreed a grand muster of his soldiery: he
presented himself sitting before his gate, with a spear in the right
hand, and holding in the left the leash of a large and favourite dog
resembling an Arab suluki or greyhound. The master of the hounds was an
important personage. Suna took great pleasure in witnessing trials of
strength, the combatants contending with a mixture of slapping and
pushing till one fell to the ground. He had a large menagerie of lions,
elephants, leopards, and similar beasts of disport, to whom he would
sometimes give a criminal as a ‘_curée_:’ he also kept for amusement
fifteen or sixteen albinos; and so greedy was he of novelty that even a
cock of peculiar or uniform colour would have been forwarded by its
owner to feed his eyes.”

Suna when last visited by the Arabs was a “red man,” aged about
forty-five, tall, robust, and powerful of limb, with a right kingly
presence and a warrior carriage. His head was so shaven as to leave what
the Omani calls “el Kishshah,” a narrow crest of hair like a cock’s
comb, from nape to brow; nodding and falling over his face under its
weight of strung beads, it gave him a fierce and formidable aspect.
This tonsure, confined to those about the palace, distinguishes its
officers and inmates, servile as well as free, from the people. The
Ryots leave patches of hair where they please, but they may not shave
the whole scalp under pain of death, till a royal edict unexpectedly
issued at times commands every head to shed its honours. Suna never
appeared in public without a spear; his dress was the national costume,
a long piece of the fine crimped mbugu or bark-cloth manufactured in
these regions, extending from the neck to the ground. He made over to
his women the rich clothes presented by the Arabs, and allowed them to
sew with unravelled cotton thread, whereas the people under severe
penalties were compelled to use plantain fibre. No commoner could wear
domestics or similar luxuries; and in the presence, the accidental
exposure of a limb led, according to the merchants, to the normal
penalty--death.

Suna, like the northern despots generally, had a variety of names, all
expressing something bitter, mighty, or terrible, as, for instance,
Lbare, the Almighty (?); Mbidde and Purgoma, a lion. He could not
understand how the Sultan of Zanzibar allowed his subjects treasonably
to assume the name of their ruler; and besides mortifying the Arabs by
assuming an infinite superiority over their prince, he shocked them by
his natural and unaffected impiety. He boasted to them that he was the
god of earth, as their Allah was the Lord of Heaven. He murmured loudly
against the abuse of lightning; and he claimed from his subjects divine
honours, which were as readily yielded to him as by the facile Romans to
their emperors. No Mgándá would allow the omnipotence of his sultan to
be questioned, and a light word concerning him would have imperilled a
stranger’s life. Suna’s domestic policy reminds the English reader of
the African peculiarities which form the groundwork of “Rasselas.” His
sons, numbering more than one hundred, were removed from the palace in
early youth to separate dungeons, and so secured with iron collars and
fetters fastened to both ends of a long wooden bar that the wretches
could never sit, and without aid could neither rise nor lie. The
heir-elective was dragged from his chains to fill a throne, and the
cadets will linger through their dreadful lives, unless wanted as
sovereigns, until death release them. Suna kept his female children
under the most rigid surveillance within the palace: he had, however, a
favourite daughter named Nasuru, whose society was so necessary to him
that he allowed her to appear with him in public.

The principal officers under the despot of Uganda are, first, the Kimara
Vyona (literally the “finisher of all things”): to him, the chief
civilian of the land, the city is committed; he also directs the kabaka
or village headmen. The second is the Sakibobo or commander-in-chief,
who has power over the Sáwágánzí, the life-guards and slaves, the
warriors and builders of the palace. Justice is administered in the
capital by the sultan, who, though severe, is never accused of
perverting the law, which here would signify the ancient custom of the
country. A Mhozi--Arabised to Hoz, and compared with the Kazi of el
Islam--dispenses in each town criminal and civil rights. The only
punishments appear to be death and mulcts. Capital offenders are
beheaded or burned; in some cases they are flayed alive; the operation
commences with the face, and the skin, which is always much torn by the
knife, is stuffed as in the old torturing days of Asia. When a criminal
absconds, the males of his village are indiscriminately slain and the
women are sold--blood and tears must flow for discipline. In money suits
each party begins by placing before the Mhozi a sum equivalent to the
disputed claim; the object is to prevent an extensive litigiousness.
Suna used to fine by fives or tens, dozens or scores, according to the
offender’s means; thus from a wealthy man he would take twenty male and
twenty female slaves, with a similar number of bulls and cows, goats and
kids, hens and even eggs. One of his favourites, who used constantly to
sit by him on guard, matchlock in hand, was Isa bin Hosayn, a Baloch
mercenary of H. H. Sayyid Said of Zanzibar. He had fled from his
debtors, and had gradually wandered to Uganda, where the favour of the
sovereign procured him wealth in ivory, and a harem containing from 200
to 300 women. “Mzagayya,”--the hairy one, as he was locally called, from
his long locks and bushy beard--was not permitted, nor probably did he
desire, to quit the country; after his patron’s death he fled to
independent Unyoro, having probably raised up, as these adventurers
will, a host of enemies at Uganda.

Suna greatly encouraged, by gifts and attention, the Arab merchants to
trade in his capital; the distance has hitherto prevented more than
half-a-dozen caravans travelling to Kibuga; all however came away loudly
praising his courtesy and hospitality. To a poor trader he has presented
twenty slaves, and an equal number of cows, without expecting any but
the humblest return. The following account of a visit paid to him in
1852, by Snay bin Amir, may complete his account of the despot Uganda.
When the report of arrival was forwarded by word of mouth to Suna, he
issued orders for the erection of as many tents as might be necessary.
The guest, who was welcomed with joyful tumult by a crowd of gazers, and
was conducted to the newly-built quarters, where he received a present
of bullocks and grain, plantains and sugar-canes. After three or four
days for repose, he was summoned to the Barzah or audience hall, outside
of which he found a squatting body of about 2000 guards armed only with
staves. Allowed to retain his weapons, he entered with an interpreter
and saluted the chief, who, without rising, motioned his guest to sit
down in front of him. Suna’s only cushion was a mbugu; his dress was of
the same stuff; two spears lay close at hand, and his dog was as usual
by his side. The Arab thought proper to assume the posture of homage,
namely, to sit upon his shins, bending his back, and, with eyes fixed on
the ground--he had been cautioned against staring at the “god of
earth,”--to rest his hands upon his lap. The levee was full; at a
distance of fifty paces between the king and the guards sat the
ministers; and inside the palace, so placed that they could see nothing
but the visitor’s back, were the principal women, who are forbidden to
gaze at or to be gazed at by a stranger. The room was lit with torches
of a gummy wood, for Suna, who eschewed pombe, took great pleasure in
these audiences, which were often prolonged from sunset to midnight.

The conversation began with a string of questions concerning Zanzibar,
the route, the news, and the other staple topics of barbarous
confabulation; when it flagged, a minister was called up to enliven it.
No justice was administered nor present offered during the first
audience; it concluded with the despot rising, at which signal all
dispersed. At the second visit Snay presented his blackmail, which
consisted of ten cotton cloths, and one hundred fundo of coral, and
other porcelain beads. The return was an offering of two ivories and a
pair of serviles; every day, moreover, flesh and grain, fruit and milk
were supplied without charge; whenever the wish was expressed, a string
of slave-girls presently appeared bending under loads of the article in
question; and it was intimated to the “king’s stranger” that he might
lay hands upon whatever he pleased, animate or inanimate. Snay, however,
was too wise to avail himself of this truly African privilege. During
the four interviews which followed, Suna proved himself a man of
intelligence: he inquired about the Wazungu or Europeans, and professed
to be anxious for a closer alliance with the Sultan of Zanzibar. When
Snay took leave he received the usual present of provisions for the
road, and 200 guards prepared to escort him, an honour which he
respectfully declined: Suna offered to send with him several loads of
elephants’ tusks as presents to H. H. the Sayyid; but the merchant
declined to face with them the difficulties and dangers of Usúí. Like
all African chiefs, the despot considered these visits as personal
honours paid to himself; his pride therefore peremptorily forbade
strangers to pass northwards of his capital, lest the lesser and hostile
chiefs might boast a similar brave. According to Snay, an European would
be received with distinction, if travelling with supplies to support his
dignity. He would depend, however, upon his ingenuity and good fortune
upon further progress; and perhaps the most feasible plan to explore the
water-shed north of the Nyanza Lake would be to buy or to build, with
the permission of the reigning monarch, boats upon the nearest western
shore. Suna himself, had, according to Snay, constructed a flotilla of
matumbi or undecked vessels similar in shape to the Mtope or
Muntafiyah--the modern “Ploiaria Rhapta” of the Sawahili coast from Lamu
to Kilwa.

Few details were given by the Arabs concerning the vulgar herd of
Waganda: they are, as has been remarked, physically a finer race than
the Wayamwezi, and they are as superior in character; more docile and
better disciplined, they love small gifts, and show their gratitude by
prostrating themselves before the donor. The specimens of slaves seen at
Kazeh were, however, inferior to the mountaineers of Karagwah; the
complexion was darker, and the general appearance more African. Their
language is, to use an Arab phrase, like that of birds, soft and quickly
spoken; the specimens collected prove without doubt that it belongs to
the Zangian branch of the great South-African family. Their normal dress
is the mbugu, under which, however, all wear the “languti” or
Indian-T-bandage of goatskin; women appear in short kilts and
breast-coverings of the same material. Both sexes decorate their heads
with the tiara of abrus-seeds alluded to when describing the people of
Karagwah. As sumptuary laws impede the free traffic of cloth into
Uganda, the imports are represented chiefly by beads, cowries, and brass
and copper wires. The wealth of the country is in cattle, ivory, and
slaves, the latter often selling for ten fundo of beads, and the same
sum will purchase the Wasoga and Wanyoro captives from whom the despot
derives a considerable portion of his revenues. The elephant is rare in
Uganda; tusks are collected probably by plunder from Usoga, and the
alakah of about ninety Arab pounds is sold for two slaves, male or
female. The tobacco, brought to market in leaf, as in Ujiji, and not
worked, as amongst the other tribes, is peculiarly good. Flesh, sweet
potatoes, and the highly nutritious plantain, which grows in groves a
whole day’s march long, are the chief articles of diet; milk is drunk
by women only, and ghee is more valued for unction than for cookery. The
favourite inebrients are mawa and pombe; the latter is served in neatly
carved and coloured gourds, and the contents are imbibed, like sherry
cobbler, through a reed.

From Kibuga the Arabs have heard that between fifteen and twenty marches
lead to the Kivira River, a larger and swifter stream than the Katonga,
which forms the northern limit of Uganda, and the southern frontier of
Unyoro. They are unable to give the names of stations. South of Kivira
is Usoga, a low alluvial land, cut by a multitude of creeks, islets, and
lagoons; in their thick vegetation the people take refuge from the
plundering parties of the Waganda, whose chief built, as has been told,
large boats to dislodge them. The Wasoga have no single sultan, and
their only marketable commodity is ivory.

On the north, the north-west, and the west of Uganda lies, according to
the Arabs, the land of Independent Unyoro. The slaves from that country
vaguely describe it as being bounded on the north-west by a tribe called
Wakede, who have a currency of cowries, and wear tiaras of the shell;
and the Arabs have heard that on the north-east there is a “people with
long daggers like the Somal,” who may be Gallas (?). But whether the
Nyanza Lake extends north of the equator is a question still to be
decided. Those consulted at Kazeh ignored even the name of the
Nyam-nyam; nor had they heard of the Bahri and Barri, the Shilluks on
the west, and the Dinkas east of the Nile, made familiar to us by the
Austrian Mission at Gondokoro, and other explorers.

The Wanyoro are a distinct race, speaking a language of the Zangian
family: they have suffered from the vicinity of the more warlike
Waganda, who have affixed to the conquered the opprobrious name of widdu
or “serviles;” and they have lost their southern possessions, which
formerly extended between Karagwah and Uganda. Their late despot
Chawambi, whose death occurred about ten years ago, left three sons, one
of whom it is reported has fallen into the power of Uganda, whilst the
two others still rule independently. The county is rich and fertile, and
magnificent tales are told concerning the collections of ivory, which in
some parts are planted in the ground to pen cattle. Slaves are cheap;
they find their way to the southern markets _viâ_ Uganda and Karagwah.
Those seen at Kazeh and Kirira, where the Arab traders had a large gang,
appeared somewhat inferior to the other races of the northern kingdoms,
with a dull dead black colour, flattish heads, brows somewhat
retreating, prominent eyes, and projecting lower jaws. They were
tattooed in large burnt blotches encircling the forehead, and in some
cases the inferior excisors had been extracted. The price of cattle in
Unyoro varies from 500 to 1000 cowries. In this country ten simbi
(Cypræa) represent one khete of beads; they are the most esteemed
currency, and are also used as ornaments for the neck, arms, and legs,
and decorations for stools and drums.

During my companions’ absence much of my spare time was devoted to
collecting specimens of the multitudinous dialects into which the great
South African family here divides itself. After some months of desultory
work I had learned the Kisawahili or coast language, the lingua Franca
of the South African coast: it is the most useful, because the most
generally known, and because, once mastered, it renders its cognates as
easy of acquirement as Bengali or Maharatti after Hindostani. The
principal obstacle is the want of instructors and books--the Kisawahili
is not a written language; and the elementary publications put forth in
Europe gave me the preliminary trouble of composing a grammar and a
vocabulary. Said Bin Salim, though bred and born amongst the Wasawahili,
knew but little of the tongue, and his peculiarities of disposition
rendered the task of instruction as wearisome to himself as it was
unsatisfactory to me. My best tutor was Snay Bin Amir, who had
transferred to the philology of East Africa his knowledge of Arabic
grammar and syntax. With the aid of the sons of Ramji and other tame
slaves, I collected about 1500 words in the three principal dialects
upon this line of road, namely the Kisawahili, the Kizaramo--which
includes the Kik’hutu--and the Kinyamwezi. At Kazeh I found a number of
wild captives, with whom I began the dreary work of collecting
specimens. In the languages of least consideration I contented myself
with the numerals, which are the fairest test of independence of
derivation, because the most likely to be primitive vocables. The work
was not a labour of love. The savages could not guess the mysterious
objects of my inquiry into their names for 1, 2, and 3; often they
started up and ran away, or they sat in dogged silence, perhaps thinking
themselves derided. The first number was rarely elicited without half an
hour’s “talkee-talkee” somewhat in this style:--

“Listen, O my brother! in the tongue of the shores (Kisawahili) we say
1, 2, 3, 4, 5”--counting the fingers to assist comprehension.

“Hu! hu!” replies the wild man, “_we_ say fingers.”

“By no means, that’s not it. This white man wants to know how thou
speakest 1, 2, 3?”

“One, two, three what? sheep, or goats, or women?”--expressing the
numerals in Kisawahili.

“By no means, only 1, 2, 3 sheep in thine own tongue, the tongue of the
Wapoka.”

“Hi! Hi! what wants the white man with the Wapoka?”

And so on till patience was almost impossible. But, like the Irish
shay-horse of days gone by, their tongues once started often hobbled on
without halting. The tame slaves were more tractable, yet even in their
case ten minutes sufficed to weary out the most intellectual; when the
listless and incoherent reply, the glazed eye gazing at vacancy, and the
irresistible tendency to gape and yawn, to nod and snooze, evidenced a
feeble brain soon overworked. Said Bin Salim would sit staring at me
with astonishment, and ejaculate, like Abba Gregorius, the preceptor of
Ludolph, the grammarian philologist and historian of Æthiopia, “Verily
in the coast-tongue words never take root, nor do they bear branches.”

The rest of my time was devoted to preparations for journeying. The
Fundi’s tent, which had accompanied us to Uvira, was provided with an
outer cover. The Sepoys’ “pal,” brought from Zanzibar, having been
destroyed by the ill-treatment of the villain Kannena, I made up, with
the aid of a blackguard Baghdadi, named ’Brahim, a large tent of
American domestics, which having, however, but one cloth, and that of
the thinnest, proved a fiery purgatory on the down-march eastwards. The
canvas lug-sail was provided with an extra double cloth, sewn round the
top to increase its dimensions: it thus became a pent-shaped affair,
twelve feet long, eight broad, and six feet high--seven would have been
better,--buttoned at the foot, which was semicircular, and in front
provided with blue cotton curtains, most useful against glare and
stare. Its lightness, combined with impenetrability, made it the model
of a tent for rapid marching. It was not, however, pegged down close to
the ground, as some explorers advise, without the intervention of ropes;
in these lands, a tent so pitched would rot in a week. The three tents
were fitted with solid male bamboos, and were provided with skin-bags
for their pegs, which, unless carefully looked after, disappear almost
daily. The only furniture was a kitanda or cartel: some contrivance of
the kind, a “Biddulph,” or an iron bed-frame, without joints, nuts, or
screws, which are sure to break or to be lost, is absolutely necessary
in these lands, where from Kaole to Uvira every man instinctively
attempts to sit and to sleep upon something that raises him above the
ground. Moreover, I have ever found the cartel answer the threefold
purpose of bed, chair, and table; besides saving weight by diminishing
the quantity of bedding required.

To the task of tent-making succeeded tailoring. We had neglected to
provide ourselves with the loose blanket suits, served out to sailors on
board men-of-war in the tropics: they are most useful in passing through
countries where changes of climate are sudden and marked. Besides these,
the traveller should carry with him an ample store of flannels: the
material must be shrunk before making up shirts, otherwise it will
behave as did the Little Boy’s mantle when tried by the frail fair
Guinever. A red colour should moreover be avoided, the dye soon turns
dark, and the appearance excites too much attention. Besides shirt and
trousers, the only necessary is a large “stomach-warmer” waistcoat, with
sleeves and back of similar material, without collar--which renders
sleeping in it uneasy--and provided with four flapped pockets, to
contain a compass and thermometer, a note-book, and a sketch-book, a
watch and a moderate-sized knife of many uses. The latter should contain
scissors, tweezers, tooth-pick, and ear-pick, needle, file, picker,
steel for fire, turnscrew, watch-spring-saw, clasp blade, and pen blade:
it should be made of moderate dimensions, and for safety be slung by a
lanyard to the button-hole. For the cold mornings and the noon-day
heats, I made up a large padded hood, bound round the head like the Arab
Kufiyah. Too much cannot be said in favour of this article, which in
eastward travel defends the eyes from the fiery glare, protects, when
wending westwards, the carotids against the solar blaze, and, at all
times, checks the intrusive staring of the crowd. I reformed my
umbrella, ever an invaluable friend in these latitudes, by removing the
rings and wires from the worm-eaten stick, and by mounting them on a
spear, thus combining with shelter a staff and a weapon. The traveller
should have at least three umbrellas, one large and water proof--white,
not black--in the shape of those used by artists; and two others of
moderate size, and of the best construction, which should be covered
with light-coloured calico, as an additional defence against the sun. At
Kazeh I was somewhat deficient in material: my lazy “Jack of all
trades,” Valentine, made, however, some slippers of green baize, soled
with leather, for me, overalls of American domestics for my companion,
and various articles of indigo-dyed cotton for himself and his
fellow-servant, who presently appeared tastefully rigged out like Paul
and Virginia in “Bengal blue.”

The minor works were not many. The two remaining portmanteaus of the
three that had left the Coast were cobbled with goatskins, and were
bound with stout thongs. The hammocks, of which half had disappeared,
were patched and provided with the Nara, or Indian cotton-tape, which
in these climates is better than either reims or cord. To save my eyes
the spectacle of moribund fowls, suspended to a porter’s pole, two light
cages were made after the fashion of the country, with bent and bound
withes. The metal plates, pots, and pans were furbished, and a damaged
kettle was mended by a travelling tinker: the asses’ saddles and halters
were repaired, and, greatest luxury of all, a brace of jembe or iron
hoes was converted into two pairs of solid stirrups, under the vigilant
eye of Snay bin Amir. A party of slaves sent to Msene brought back
fifty-four jembe, useful as return-presents and blackmail on the
down-march: they paid, however, one cloth for two, instead of four.
Sallum bin Hamid, the “papa” of the Arabs, sold for the sum of forty
dollars a fine half-bred Zanzibar she-ass and foal--there is no surer
method of procuring a regular supply of milk on Eastern journeys. My
black and white beads being almost useless, he also parted with, as a
peculiar favour, seventeen or eighteen pounds of pink-porcelains for
forty dollars, and with a Frasibah of coffee, and a similar quantity of
sugar for eighty dollars, equal to sixteen pounds sterling. On the 14th
July the last Arab caravan of the season left Unyanyembe, under the
command of Sayf bin Said el Wardi. As he obligingly offered to convey
letters and any small articles which I wished to precede me, and knowing
that under his charge effects were far safer than with our own people, I
forwarded the useless and damaged surveying instruments, certain
manuscripts, and various enclosures of maps, field and sketch-books,
together with reports to the Royal Geographical Society.

This excitement over I began to weary of Kazeh. Snay bin Amir and most
of the Arabs had set out on an expedition to revenge the murder of old
Silim--an event alluded to in a former page, and the place had become
dull as a mess-dinner. Said bin Salim, who was ill, who coughed and
expectorated, and sincerely pitied himself because he had a cold, became
more than usually unsociable: he could enjoy nothing but the society of
Brahim, the bawling Baghdadi, and the crowd of ill-flavoured slavery
that flocked into the vestibule. My Goanese servant, who connected my
aspect with hard labour, avoided it like a pestilence. Already I was
preparing to organise a little expedition to K’hokoro and the southern
provinces, when unexpectedly,--in these lands a few cries and gun-shots
are the only credible precursors of a caravan,--on the morning of the
25th August reappeared my companion.

At length my companion had been successful, his “flying trip” had led
him to the northern water, and he had found its dimensions surpassing
our most sanguine expectations. We had scarcely, however, breakfasted,
before he announced to me the startling fact, that he had discovered the
sources of the White Nile. It was an inspiration perhaps: the moment he
sighted the Nyanza, he felt at once no doubt but that the “Lake at his
feet gave birth to that interesting river which has been the subject of
so much speculation, and the object of so many explorers.” The fortunate
discoverer’s conviction was strong; his reasons were weak--were of the
category alluded to by the damsel Lucetta, when justifying her penchant
in favour of the “lovely gentleman,” Sir Proteus:--

  “I have no other but a woman’s reason.
  I think him so because I think him so;”[11]

and probably his sources of the Nile grew in his mind as his Mountains
of the Moon had grown under his hand.

  [11] The following extract from the Proceedings of the R. Geographical
  Society, May 9, 1859, will best illustrate what I mean:--

  MR. MACQUEEN, F.R.G.S., said the question of the sources of the Nile
  had cost him much trouble and research, and he was sure there was no
  material error either in longitude or latitude in the position he had
  ascribed to them, namely, a little to the eastward of the meridian of
  35°, and a little northward of the equator. That was the principal
  source of the White Nile. The mountains there were exceedingly high,
  from the equator north to Kaffa Enarea. All the authorities, from
  east, west, north, or south, now perfectly competent to form judgments
  upon such a matter, agreed with him; and among them were the officers
  commanding the Egyptian commission. It was impossible they could all
  be mistaken. Dr. Krapf had been within a very short distance of it; he
  was more than 180 miles from Mombas, and he saw snow upon the
  mountains. He conversed with the people who came from them, and who
  told him of the snow and exceeding coldness of the temperature. The
  line of perpetual congelation, it was well known, was 17,000 feet
  above the sea. He had an account of the navigation of the White Nile
  by the Egyptian expedition. It was then given as 3° 30′ N. lat. and
  31° E. long. At this point the expedition turned back for want of a
  sufficient depth of water. Here the river was 1370 feet broad, and the
  velocity of the current _one-quarter_ of a mile per hour. The journals
  also gave a specific and daily current, the depth and width of the
  river, and every thing, indeed, connected with it. Surely, looking at
  the current of the river, the height of the Cartoom above the level of
  the sea, and the distance thence up to the equator, the sources of the
  Nile must be 6000 or 8000 feet above the level of the sea, and still
  much below the line of the snow, which was 6000 or 8000 feet farther
  above them. He deeply regretted he was unable to complete the diagram
  for the rest of the papers he had given to the Society, for it was
  more important than any others he had previously given. It contained
  the journey over Africa from sea to sea, second only to that of Dr.
  Livingstone. But all the rivers coming down from the mountains in
  question, and running south-eastward, had been clearly stated by Dr.
  Krapf, who gave every particular concerning them. He should like to
  know what the natives had said was to the northward of the large lake?
  Did they say the rivers ran out from or into the lake? How could the
  Egyptian officers be mistaken?

  CAPTAIN SPEKE replied. They were not mistaken; and if they had pursued
  their journey 50 miles farther, they would undoubtedly have found
  themselves at the northern borders of this lake.

  MR. MACQUEEN said that other travellers, Don Angelo for instance, had
  been within one and a half degree of the Equator, and saw the mountain
  of Kimborat under the Line, and persisted in the statement, adding,
  that travellers had been up the river until they found it a mere
  brook. He felt convinced that the large lake alluded to by Captain
  Speke was not the source of the Nile: it was impossible it could be
  so, for it was not at a sufficiently high altitude.

  The paper presented to the Society, when fully read in conjunction
  with the map, will clearly show that the Bahr-el-Abied has no
  connection with Kilimanjaro, that it has no connection whatever with
  any lake or river to the south of the Equator, and that the swelling
  of the river Nile proceeds from the tropical rains of the northern
  torrid zone, as was stated emphatically to Julius Cæsar by the chief
  Egyptian priest Amoreis 2000 years ago.

  In nearly 3° N. lat. there is a great cataract, which boats cannot
  pass. It is called Gherba. About half-way (50 miles) above, and
  between this cataract and Robego, the capital of Kuenda, the river
  becomes so narrow as to be crossed by a bridge formed by a tree thrown
  across it. Above Gherba no stream joins the river either from the
  south or south-west.

The main argument in favour of the Lake representing the great reservoir
of the White River was, that the “principal men” at the southern
extremity ignored the extent northward. “On my inquiring about the
lake’s length the man (the greatest traveller in the place) faced to the
north, and began nodding his head to it; at the same time he kept
throwing forward his right hand, and making repeated snaps of his
fingers endeavoured to indicate something immeasurable; and added, that
nobody knew, but he thought it probably extended to the end of the
world.” Strongly impressed by this valuable statistical information, my
companion therefore placed the northern limit about 4°-5° north lat.,
whereas the Egyptian expedition sent by the late Mohammed Ali Pacha,
about twenty years ago, to explore the Coy Sources, reached 3° 22′ north
lat. It therefore ought to have sailed fifty miles upon the Nyanza lake.
On the contrary, from information derived on the spot, that expedition
placed the fountains at one month’s journey--300 to 350 miles--to the
south-east, or upon the northern counterslope of Mount Kenia. Whilst
marching to the coast, my companion--he tells us--was assured by a
“respectable Sowahili merchant, that when engaged in traffic some years
previously to the northward of the line, and the westward of this lake,
he had heard it commonly reported that large vessels frequented the
northern extremity of these waters, in which the officers engaged in
navigating them used sextants and kept a log, precisely similar to what
is found in vessels on the ocean. Query, could this be in allusion to
the expedition sent by Mohammed Ali up the Nile in former years?”
(Proceedings of Royal Geographical Society, May 9, 1859.) Clearly, if
Abdullah Bin Nasib, the Msawahili alluded to, had reported these words,
he merely erred; the Egyptian expedition, as has been shown, not only
did not find, they never even heard of a lake. But not being present at
the conversation I am tempted to assign further explanation. My
companion, wholly ignorant of Arabic, was reduced to depend upon
“Bombay,” who spoke an even more debased dialect than his master, and it
is easy to see how the blunder originated. The Arabic bahr and the
Kisawahili bahari are equally applicable in vulgar parlance to a river
or sea, a lake or a river. Traditions concerning a Western Sea--the to
them now unknown Atlantic--over which the white men voyage, are familiar
to many East Africans; I have heard at Harar precisely the same report
concerning the log and sextants. Either, then, Abdullah Bin Nasib
confounded, or my companion’s “interrupter” caused him to confound the
Atlantic and the Lake. In the maps forwarded from Kazeh by my companion,
the River Kivira was, after ample inquiry, made a western _influent_ of
the Nyanza Lake. In the map appended to the paper in Blackwood, before
alluded to, it has become an _effluent_, and the only minute concerning
so very important a modification is, “This river (although I must
confess at first I did not think so) is the Nile itself!”

Beyond the assertion, therefore, that no man had visited the north, and
the appearance of sextants and logs upon the waters, there is not a
shade of proof _pro._ Far graver considerations lie on the _con._ side:
the reports of the Egyptian expedition, and the dates of the several
inundations which--as will presently appear--alone suffice to disprove
the possibility of the Nyanza causing the flood of the Nile. It is
doubtless a satisfactory thing to disclose to an admiring public, of
“statesmen, churchmen, missionaries, merchants, and more particularly
geographers,” the “solution of a problem, which it has been the first
geographical desideratum of many thousand years to ascertain, and the
ambition of the first monarchs in the world to unravel.” (Blackwood’s
Magazine, October 1859.) But how many times since the days of a certain
Claudius Ptolemæius surnamed Pelusiota, have not the Fountains of the
White Nile been discovered and re-discovered after this fashion?

What tended at the time to make me the more sceptical was the
substantial incorrectness of the geographical and other details brought
back by my companion. This was natural enough. Bombay, after
misunderstanding his master’s ill-expressed Hindostani, probably
mistranslated the words into Kisawahili to some travelled African, who
in turn passed on the question in a wilder dialect to the barbarian or
barbarians under examination. During such a journey to and fro words
must be liable to severe accidents. The first thing reported to me was
the falsehood of the Arabs at Kazeh, who had calumniated the good Sultan
Muhayya, and had praised the bad Sultan Machunda: subsequent inquiries
proved their rigid correctness. My companion’s principal informant was
one Mansur Bin Salim, a half-caste Arab, who had been flogged out of
Kazeh by his compatriots; he pronounced Muhayya to be a “very excellent
and obliging person,” and of course he was believed. I then heard a
detailed account of how the caravan of Salim bin Rashid had been
attacked, beaten, captured, and detained at Ukerewe, by its sultan
Machunda. The Arabs received the intelligence with a smile of ridicule,
and in a few days Salim bin Rashid appeared in person to disprove the
report. These are but two cases of many. And what knowledge of Asiatic
customs can be expected from the writer of these lines? “The Arabs at
Unyanyembe had advised my donning their habit for the trip in order to
attract less attention; a vain precaution, which I believe they
suggested more to gratify their own vanity in _seeing an Englishman
lower himself to their position_, than for any benefit that I might
receive by doing so.” (Blackwood, loco cit.) This galimatias of the
Arabs!--the haughtiest and the most clannish of all Oriental peoples.

But difference of opinion was allowed to alter companionship. After a
few days it became evident to me that not a word could be uttered upon
the subject of the Lake, the Nile, and his _trouvaille_ generally
without offence. By a tacit agreement it was, therefore, avoided, and I
should never have resumed it had my companion not stultified the results
of the Expedition by putting forth a claim which no geographer can
admit, and which is at the same time so weak and flimsy, that no
geographer has yet taken the trouble to contradict it.

I will here offer to the reader a few details concerning the Lake in
question,--they are principally borrowed from my companion’s diary,
carefully corrected, however, by Snay bin Amir, Salim bin Rashid[12],
and other merchants at Kazeh.

  [12] When my companion returned to Kazeh, he represented Ukerewe and
  Mazita to be islands, and, although in sight of them, he had heard
  nothing concerning their connection with the coast. This error was
  corrected by Salim bin Rashid, and accepted by us. Yet I read in his
  discovery of the supposed sources of the Nile: “Mansur, and a native,
  the greatest traveller of the place, kindly accompanied and gave me
  every obtainable information. This man had traversed the island, as he
  called it, of Ukerewe from north to south. _But by his rough mode of
  describing it, I am rather inclined to think that instead of its being
  an actual island, it is a connected tongue of land, stretching
  southwards from a promontory lying at right angles to the eastern
  shore of the lake_, which being a wash, affords a passage to the
  mainland during the fine season, but during the wet becomes submerged
  and thus makes Ukerewe temporarily an island.” The information, I
  repeat, was given, not by the “native,” but by Salim bin Rashid. When,
  however, the latter proceeded to correct my companion’s confusion
  between the well-known coffee mart Kitara and “the island of Kitiri
  occupied by a tribe called Watiri,” he gave only offence--consequently
  Kitiri has obtained a local habitation in Blackwood and Petermann.

This fresh-water sea is known throughout the African tribes as Nyanza,
and the similarity of the sound to “Nyassa,” the indigenous name of the
little Maravi or Kilwa Lake, may have caused in part the wild confusion
in which speculative geographers have involved the Lake Regions of
Central Africa. The Arabs, after their fashion of deriving comprehensive
names from local and minor features, call it Ukerewe, in the Kisukuma
dialect meaning the “place of Kerewe” (Kelewe), an islet. As has been
mentioned, they sometimes attempt to join by a river, a creek, or some
other theoretical creation, the Nyanza with the Tanganyika, the altitude
of the former being 3750 feet above sea-level, or 1900 feet above the
latter, and the mountain regions which divide the two having been
frequently travelled over by Arab and African caravans. Hence the name
Ukerewe has been transferred in the “Mombas Mission Map” to the northern
waters of the Tanganyika. The Nyanza, as regards name, position, and
even existence, has hitherto been unknown to European geographers; but,
as will presently appear, descriptions of this sea by native travellers
have been unconsciously transferred by our writers to the Tanganyika of
Ujiji, and even to the Nyassa of Kilwa.

M. Brun-Rollet (“Le Nil Blanc et le Soudan,” p. 209) heard that on the
west of the Padongo tribe,--whom he places to the S. of Mount Kambirah,
or below 1° S. lat.--lies a great lake, from whose northern extremity
issues a river whose course is unknown. In the map appended to his
volume this water is placed between 1° S. and 3° N. lat., and about 25°
50′ E. long. (Greenwich), and the déversoir is made an influent of the
White Nile.

Bowdich (“Discoveries of the Portuguese,” pp. 131, 132), when speaking
of the Maravi Lake (the Nyassa), mentions that the “negroes or the Moors
of Melinde” have mentioned a great water which is known to reach
Mombaca, which the Jesuit missionaries conjectured to communicate with
Abyssinia, and of which Father Lewis Marianna, who formerly resided at
Tete, recommended a discovery, in a letter addressed to the government
at Goa, which is still preserved among the public archives of that city.
Here the confusion of the Nyanza, to which there was of old a route from
Mombasah with the Nyassa, is apparent.

At the southern point, where the Muingwira River falls into the tortuous
creek, whose surface is a little archipelago of brown rocky islets
crowned with trees, and emerging from the blue waters, the observed
latitude of the Nyanza Lake, is 2° 24′ S.; the longitude by dead
reckoning from Kazeh is E. long. 33° and nearly due north, and the
altitude by B. P. thermometer 3750 feet above sea-level. Its extent to
the north is unknown to the people of the southern regions, which rather
denotes some difficulty in travelling than any great extent. They
informed my companion that from Mwanza to the southern frontier of
Karagwah is a land journey of one month, or a sea voyage of five days
towards the N. N. W. and then to the north. They also pointed out the
direction of Unyoro N. 20° W. The Arab merchants of Kazeh have seen the
Nyanza opposite Weranhanja, the capital district of Armanika, King of
Karagwah, and declare that it receives the Kitangure River, whose mouth
has been placed about the equator. Beyond that point all is doubtful.
The merchants have heard that Suna, the late despot of Uganda, built
matumbi, or undecked vessels, capable of containing forty or fifty men,
in order to attack his enemies, the Wasoga, upon the creeks which indent
the western shores of the Nyanza. This, if true, would protract the lake
to between 1° and 1° 30′ of N. lat., and give it a total length of about
4° or 250 miles. This point, however, is still involved in the deepest
obscurity. Its breadth was estimated as follows. A hill, about 200 feet
above the water-level, shows a conspicuous landmark on the eastern
shore, which was set down as forty miles distant. On the south-western
angle of the line from the same point ground appeared; it was not,
however, perceptible on the north-west. The total breadth, therefore,
has been assumed at eighty miles,--a figure which approaches the
traditions unconsciously chronicled by European geographers. In the
vicinity of Usoga the lake, according to the Arabs, broadens out: of
this, however, and in fact of all the formation north of the equator, it
is at present impossible to arrive at certainty.

The Nyanza is an elevated basin or reservoir, the recipient of the
surplus monsoon-rain which falls in the extensive regions of the Wamasai
and their kinsmen to the east, the Karagwah line of the Lunar Mountains
to the west, and to the south Usukuma or Northern Unyamwezi. Extending
to the equator in the central length of the African peninsula, and
elevated above the limits of the depression in the heart of the
continent, it appears to be a gap in the irregular chain which, running
from Usumbara and Kilima-ngao to Karagwah, represents the formation
anciently termed the Mountains of the Moon. The physical features, as
far as they were observed, suggest this view. The shores are low and
flat, dotted here and there with little hills; the smaller islands also
are hill-tops, and any part of the country immediately on the south
would, if inundated to the same extent, present a similar aspect. The
lake lies open and elevated, rather like the drainage and the temporary
deposit of extensive floods than a volcanic creation like the
Tanganyika, a long narrow mountain-girt basin. The waters are said to be
deep, and the extent of the inundation about the southern creek proves
that they receive during the season an important accession. The colour
was observed to be clear and blue, especially from afar in the early
morning; after 9 _a.m._, when the prevalent south-east wind arose, the
surface appeared greyish, or of a dull milky white, probably the effect
of atmospheric reflection. The tint, however, does not, according to
travellers, ever become red or green like the waters of the Nile. But
the produce of the lake resembles that of the river in its purity; the
people living on the shores prefer it, unlike that of the Tanganyika, to
the highest, and clearest springs; all visitors agree in commending its
lightness and sweetness, and declare that the taste is rather of river
or of rain-water than resembling the soft slimy produce of stagnant
muddy bottoms, or the rough harsh flavour of melted ice and snow.

From the southern creek of the Nyanza, and beyond the archipelago of
neighbouring islets, appear the two features which have given to this
lake the name of Ukerewe. The Arabs call them “Jezirah”--an ambiguous
term, meaning equally insula and peninsula--but they can scarcely be
called islands. The high and rocky Mazita to the east, and the
comparatively flat Ukerewe on the west, are described by the Arabs as
points terminating seawards in bluffs, and connected with the eastern
shore by a low neck of land, probably a continuous reef, flooded during
the rains, but never so deeply as to prevent cattle fording the isthmus.
The northern and western extremities front deep water, and a broad
channel separates them from the southern shore, Usukuma. The Arabs, when
visiting Ukerewe or its neighbour, prefer hiring the canoes of the
Wasukuma, and paddling round the south-eastern extremity of the Nyanza,
to exposing their property and lives by marching through the dangerous
tribes of the coast.

Mazita belongs to a people called Makwiya. Ukerewe is inhabited,
according to some informants, by Wasukuma; according to others, the
Wakerewe are marked by their language as ancient emigrants from the
highlands of Karagwah. In Ukerewe, which is exceedingly populous, are
two brother Sultans: the chief is “Machunda;” the second, “Ibanda,”
rules at Wiru, the headland on the western limit. The people collect
ivory from the races on the eastern mainland, and store it, awaiting an
Arab caravan. Beads are in most request; as in Usukuma generally, not
half a dozen cloths of native and foreign manufacture will be found upon
a hundred men. The women are especially badly clad; even the adult
maidens wear only the languti of India, or the Nubian apron of
aloe-fibre, strung with the pipe-stem bead called sofi, and blackened,
like India-rubber, by use; it is fastened round the waist, and depends
about one foot by six or seven inches in breadth.

The Arabs who traffic in these regions generally establish themselves
with Sultan Machunda, and send their slaves in canoes round the
south-east angle of the lake to trade with the coast people. These races
are successively from the south; the Washaki, at a distance of three
marches, and their inland neighbours the Wataturu; then the Warudi, a
wild tribe, rich in ivory, lying about a fortnight’s distance; and
beyond them the Wahumba, or Wamasai. Commercial transactions extend
along the eastern shore as far as T’hiri, or Ut’hiri, a district between
Ururu and Uhumba. This is possibly the origin of the island of Tiri or
Kittiri, placed in my companion’s map near the north-west extremity of
the Nyanza Lake, off the coast of Uganda, where there is a province
called Kittara, peculiarly rich in coffee. The explorer heard from the
untrustworthy country people that, after a long coasting voyage, they
arrived at an island where the inhabitants, a poor and naked race, live
on fish, and cultivate coffee for sale. The information appears
suspicious. The Arabs know of no islands upon the Nyanza which produce
coffee. Moreover, if the people had any traffic, they would not be
without clothing.

The savagery of the races adjacent to the Nyanza has caused accidents
amongst travelling traders. About five years ago a large caravan from
Tanga, on the eastern coast, consisting of 400 or 500 guns, and led by
Arab merchants, at the end of a journey which had lasted nearly two
years, happened to quarrel with the Wahumba or Wamasai near the lake.
The subject was the burning down of some grass required for pasture by
the wild men. Words led to blows; the caravan, having but two or three
pounds of gunpowder, was soon dispersed; seven or eight merchants lost
their lives, and a few made their escape to Unyanyembe. Before our
departure from Kazeh, the slaves of Salim bin Rashid, having rescued one
of the wounded survivors, who had been allowed by the Wamasai to wander
into Urudi, brought him back to Kazeh. He described the country as no
longer practicable. In 1858 also the same trading party, the principal
authority for these statements, were relieved of several bales of cloth,
during their sleep, when bivouacking upon an inhabited island near the
eastern shore.

The altitude, the conformation of the Nyanza Lake, the argilaceous
colour and the sweetness of its waters, combine to suggest that it may
be one of the feeders of the White Nile. In the map appended to M.
Brun-Rollet’s volume, before alluded to, the large water west of the
Padongo tribe, which clearly represents the Nyanza or Ukerewe, is, I
have observed, made to drain northwards into the Fitri Lake, and
eventually to swell the main stream of the White River. The details
supplied by the Egyptian Expedition, which, about twenty years ago,
ascended the White River to 3° 22′ N. lat., and 31° 30′ E. long., and
gave the general bearing of the river from that point to its source as
south-east, with a distance of one month’s journey, or from 300 to 350
miles, would place the actual sources 2° S. lat., and 35° E. long., or
in 2° eastward of the southern creek of the Nyanza Lake. This position
would occupy the northern counterslope of the Lunar Mountains, the upper
water-shed of the high region whose culminating apices are Kilima-Ngao,
Kenia, and Doengo Engai. The distance of these peaks from the coast, as
given by Dr. Krapf, must be considerably reduced, and little authority
can be attached to his river Tumbiri.[13] The site, supposed by Mr.
Macqueen (“Proceedings of the Geographical Society of London,” January
24th, 1859), to be at least 21,000 feet above the level of the sea, and
consequently 3000 or 4000 feet above the line of perpetual congelation,
would admirably explain the two most ancient theories concerning the
source of the White River, namely, that it arises in a snowy region, and
that its inundation is the result of tropical rains.

  [13] The large river Tumbiri, mentioned by Dr. Krapf as flowing
  towards Egypt from the northern counterslope of Mount Kenia, rests
  upon the sole authority of a single wandering native. As, moreover,
  the word T’humbiri or T’humbili means a monkey, and the people are
  peculiarly fond of satire in a small way, it is not improbable that
  the very name had no foundation of fact. This is mentioned, as some
  geographers--for instance, Mr. Macqueen (“Observations on the
  Geography of Central Africa:” “Proceedings of the R. G. S. of London,”
  May 9, 1859)--have been struck by the circumstance that the Austrian
  Missionaries and Mr. Werne (“Expedition to discover the sources of the
  White Nile, in 1840-41”) gave Tubirih as the Bari name of the White
  Nile at the southern limit of their exploration.

It is impossible not to suspect that between the upper portion of the
Nyanza and the watershed of the White Nile there exists a longitudinal
range of elevated ground, running from east to west--a “furca” draining
northwards into the Nile and southwards into the Nyanza Lake--like that
which separates the Tanganyika from the Maravi or Nyassa of Kilwa.
According to Don Angelo Vinco, who visited Loquéck in 1852, beyond the
cataract of Garbo--supposed to be in N. lat. 2° 40′--at a distance of
sixty miles lie Robego, the capital of Kuenda, and Lokoya (Logoja), of
which the latter receives an affluent from the east. Beyond Lokoya the
White Nile is described as a _small and rocky mountain-river_,
presenting none of the features of a stream flowing from a broad
expanse of water like the great Nyanza reservoir.

The periodical swelling of the Nyanza Lake, which, flooding a
considerable tract of land on the south, may be supposed--as it lies
flush with the basal surface of the country--to inundate extensively all
the low lands that form its periphery, forbids belief in the possibility
of its being the head-stream of the Nile, or the reservoir of its
periodical inundation. In Karagwah, upon the western shore, the masika
or monsoon lasts from October to May or June, after which the dry season
sets in. The Egyptian Expedition found the river falling fast at the end
of January, and they learned from the people that it would again rise
about the end of March, at which season the sun is vertical over the
equator. About the summer solstice (June), when the rains cease in the
regions south of and upon the equator, the White Nile begins to flood.
From March to the autumnal equinox (September) it continues to overflow
its banks till it attains its magnitude, and from that time it shrinks
through the winter solstice (December) till March. The Nile is,
therefore, full during the dry season and low during the rainy season
south of and immediately upon the equator. And as the northern
counterslope of Kenia will, to a certain extent, be a lee-land, like
Ugogo, it cannot have the superfluity of moisture necessary to send
forth a first-class stream. The inundation is synchronous with the great
falls of the northern equatorial regions, which extend from July to
September, and is dependent solely upon the tropical rains. It is,
therefore, probable that the true sources of the “Holy River” will be
found to be a network of runnels and rivulets of scanty dimensions,
filled by monsoon torrents, and perhaps a little swollen by melted snow
on the northern water-parting of the Eastern Lunar Mountains.

Of the tribes dwelling about the Nyanza, the western have been already
described. The Washaki and the Warudi are plundering races on the east,
concerning whom little is known. Remain the Wahinda, a clan or class
alluded to in this and a former chapter, and the Wataturu, an extensive
and once powerful tribe, mentioned when treating of the regions about
Tura.

The Wahinda (in the singular Muhinda) are, according to some Arabs, a
foreign and ruling family, who coming from a distant country, probably
in the neighbourhood of Somaliland, conquered the lands, and became
Sultans. This opinion seems to rest upon physical peculiarities,--the
superiority of the Wahinda in figure, stature, and complexion to their
subjects suggesting a difference of origin. Others explain the word
Muhinda to mean a cadet of royal family, and call the class Bayt el
Saltanah, or the Kingly House. Thus, whilst Armanika is the Mkámá or
Sovereign of Karagwah, his brother simply takes the title of Muhinda.
These conflicting statements may be reconciled by the belief general in
the country that the families of the Sultans are a foreign and a nobler
race, the date of whose immigration has long fallen into oblivion.
This may be credited without difficulty; the physique of the
rulers--approximating more to the northern races of Africa--is markedly
less negroid than that of their subjects, and the difference is too
great to be explained by the effects of climate or of superior diet,
comfort, and luxury.

The Wahinda are found in the regions of Usui, Karagwah, Uhha, Uvinza,
Uyungu, Ujiji, and Urundi, where they live in boma--stockades--and
scattered villages. Of this race are the Sultans Suwarora of the Wasui,
Armanika of Karagwah, Kanoni of Uhha, Kanze of Uyungu, Mzogera of
Uvinza, Rusimba of Ujiji, Mwezi of Urundi, Mnyamurunde of Uyofo, Gaetawa
of Uhayya, and Mutawazi of Utumbara. The Wahinda affect a milk diet
which is exceedingly fattening, and anoint themselves plentifully with
butter and ghee, to soften and polish the skin. They never sell their
fellow clansmen, are hospitable and civil to strangers, seldom carry
arms, fear nothing from the people, and may not be slain even in battle.
Where the Wahinda reign, their ministers are the Watosi, a race which
has been described when treating of their head-quarters Karagwah.

The Wataturu extend from the Mángewá district, two marches northward of
Tura in a north-north-westerly diagonal, to Usmáo, a district of
Usukuma, at the south-east angle of the Nyanza Lake. On the north and
east they are limited by the Wahumba, on the south by the people of
Iramba, and there is said to be a connection between these three tribes.
This wild pastoral people were formerly rich in flocks and herds; they
still have the best asses in the country. About five years ago, however,
they were persuaded by Msimbira, a chief of Usukuma, to aid him against
his rival Mpagamo, who had called in the Arabs to his assistance. During
the long and bitter contest which ensued, the Arabs, as has been
related, were worsted in the field, and the Wataturu suffered severe
losses in cattle. Shortly before the arrival of the Expedition at Kazeh
the foreign merchants had despatched to Utaturu a plundering party of
sixty slave-musketeers, who, however, suddenly attacked by the people,
were obliged to fly, leaving behind eighteen of their number. This event
was followed by a truce, and the Wataturu resumed their commerce with
Tura and Unyanyembe, where, in 1858, a caravan, numbering about 300
men, came in. Two small parties of this people were also met at Tura;
they were small, dark, and ugly savages, almost beardless, and not
unlike the “Thakur” people in Maharatta-land. Their asses, provided with
neat saddle-bags of zebra skin, were better dressed than the men, who
wore no clothing except the simplest hide-sandals. According to the
Arabs this clan affects nudity: even adult maidens dispense with the
usual skin-kilt. The men ignored bows and arrows, but they were
efficiently armed with long spears, double-edged sime, and heavy hide
shields. They brought calabash or monkey-bread flour--in this country,
as in Ugogo, a favourite article of consumption--and a little coarse
salt, collected from the dried mud of a Mbuga or swamp in the land of
Iramba, to be bartered for holcus and beads. Their language sounded to
the unpractised ear peculiarly barbarous, and their savage
suspiciousness rendered it impossible to collect any specimens.

At Kazeh, sorely to my disappointment, it was finally settled, in a full
conclave of Arabs, that we must return to the coast by the tedious path
with which we were already painfully familiar. At Ujiji the state of our
finances had been the sole, though the sufficient obstacle to our
traversing Africa from east to west; we might--had we possessed the
means--by navigating the Tanganyika southwards, have debouched, after a
journey of three months, at Kilwa. The same cause prevented us from
visiting the northern kingdoms of Karagwah and Uganda; to effect this
exploration, however, we should have required not only funds but time.
The rains there setting in about September render travelling impossible;
our two years’ leave of absence were drawing to a close, and even had we
commanded a sufficient outfit, we were not disposed to risk the
consequences of taking an extra twelve months. No course, therefore,
remained but to regain the coast. We did not, however, give up hopes of
making our return useful to geography, by tracing the course of the
Rwaha or Rufijí River, and of visiting the coast between the Usagara
Mountains and Kilwa, an unknown line not likely to attract future
travellers.

[Illustration: SAYDUMI, A NATIVE OF UGANDA.]

[Illustration: Mgongo Thembo, or the Elephant’s Back.]




CHAP. XVII.

THE DOWN-MARCH TO THE COAST.


On the 5th September 1858, Musa Mzuri--handsome Moses, as he was called
by the Africans--returned with great pomp to Kazeh after his long
residence at Karagwah. Some details concerning this merchant, who has
played a conspicuous part in the eventful “_peripéties_” of African
discovery, may be deemed well placed.

About thirty-five years ago, Musa, a Moslem of the Kojah sect, and then
a youth, was driven by poverty from his native Surat to follow his
eldest brother “Sayyan,” who having sought fortune at Zanzibar, and
having been provided with an outfit by the Sayyid el Laghbari, then
governor of the island, made sundry journeys into the interior. About
1825, the brothers first visited the Land of the Moon, preceding the
Arab travellers, who in those days made their markets at Usanga and
Usenga, distant about a dozen marches to the S.S.E. of Kazeh. Musa
describes Unyamwezi as richly cultivated, and he has not forgotten the
hospitable reception of the people. The brothers bought up a little
venture of forty Farasilah or twenty men’s loads of cloth and beads, and
returned with a joint stock of 800 Farasilah (800 × 35 = 28,000 lbs.
avoirdupois) in ivory; as Sayyan died on the road, all fell to Musa’s
share. Since that time he has made five journeys to the coast and
several to the northern kingdoms. About four years ago Armanika, the
present Sultan of Karagwah, was besieged in a palisaded village by a
rebel brother Rumanika. On this occasion Musa, in company with the king,
endured great hardships, and incurred no little risk; when both parties
were weary of fighting, he persuaded, by a large bribe of ivory, Suna,
the powerful despot of the neighbouring kingdom of Uganda, to raise the
siege, by throwing a strong force into the field. He has ever since been
fraternally received by Armanika, and his last journey to Karagwah was
for the purpose of recovering part of the ivory expended in the king’s
cause. After an absence of fifteen months he brought back about a score
of splendid tusks, one weighing, he declared, upwards of 200 lbs. During
his detention Salim bin Sayf, of Dut’humi, who had been entrusted by
Musa with sixty-five Farasilah of ivory to barter for goods on the
coast, arrived at Unyanyembe, when hearing the evil tidings, the wily
Harisi appropriated the property and returned to whence he came. Like
most merchants in East Africa, Musa’s business is extensive, but his
gains are principally represented by outlying debts; he cannot,
therefore, leave the country without an enormous sacrifice. He is the
recognised Doyen of the commercial body, and he acts agent and
warehouseman; his hall is usually full of buyers and sellers, Arab and
African, and large investments of wires, beads, and cotton-cloths, some
of them valuable, are regularly forwarded to him with comforts and
luxuries from the coast.

Musa Mzuri is now a man of the uncertain “certain age” between
forty-five and fifty, thin-bearded, tall, gaunt, with delicate
extremities, and with the regular and handsome features of a high-caste
Indian Moslem. Like most of his compatriots, he is a man of sad and
staid demeanour, and he is apparently faded by opium, which so
tyrannises over him that he carries pills in every pocket, and stores
them, lest the hoard should run short, in each corner and cranny of his
house. His clean new dress, perfumed with jasmine-oil and sandal-wood,
his snowy skull-cap and well-fitting sandals, distinguish him in
appearance from the Arabs; and his abode, which is almost a village,
with its lofty gates and its spacious courts, full of slaves and
hangers-on, contrasts with the humility of the Semite tenements.

On arrival at Kazeh I forwarded to Musa the introductory letter with
which H. H. the Sayyid Majid had honoured me. Sundry civilities passed
between his housekeeper, Mama Khamisi, and ourselves; she supplied the
Baloch with lodgings and ourselves with milk, for which we were careful
to reward her. After returning from Ujiji we found Abdullah, the eldest
of Musa’s two sons by different slave girls, resting at Kazeh after his
down-march from Karagwah. He knew a few words of English, but he had
learned no Hindostani from his father, who curious to say, after an
expatriation of thirty-five years, still spoke his mother-tongue purely
and well. The youth would have become a greater favourite had he not
been so hard a drinker and so quarrelsome in his cups; on more than one
occasion he had dangerously cut or stabbed his servile boon-companions.
Musa had spared the rod, or had used it upon him to very little purpose;
after intruding himself repeatedly into the hall and begging for
handsome clothes, with more instance of freedom than consisted with
decorum, he was warned that if he stayed away it might be the better for
his back, and he took the warning.

Musa, when rested after his weary return-march, called upon me with all
due ceremony, escorted by the principal Arab merchants. I was not
disappointed in finding him wholly ignorant concerning Africa and things
African; Snay bin Amir had told me that such was the case. He had,
however, a number of slaves fresh from Karagwah and Uganda, who
confirmed the accounts previously received from Arab travellers in
those regions. Musa displayed even more hospitality than his
fellow-travellers. Besides the mbogoro or skinful of grain and the goat
usually offered to fresh arrivals, he was ever sending those little
presents of provisions which in the East cannot be refused without
offence. I narrowly prevented his killing a bullock to provide us with
beef, and at last I feared to mention a want before him. During his
frequent visits he invariably showed himself a man of quiet and
unaffected manners, dashed with a little Indian reserve, which in
process of time would probably have worn off.

On the 6th September, Said bin Salim, nervously impatient to commence
the march homewards, “made a khambi,” that is to say, pitched our tents
under a spreading tree outside and within sight of Kazeh. Although he
had been collecting porters for several days, only two came to the fore;
a few refreshing showers were falling at the autumnal equinox, and the
black peasantry so miscalculated the seasons that they expected the
immediate advent of the great Masika. Moreover, when informed that our
route would debouch at Kilwa, they declared that they must receive
double pay, as they could not expect there to be hired by return
caravans. That the “khambi” might assume an appearance of reality, the
Baloch were despatched into “country-quarters.” As they followed their
usual tactic, affecting eagerness to depart but privily clinging to the
pleasures of Kazeh, orders were issued definitively to “cut” their
rations in case of necessity. The sons of Ramji, who had returned from
Msene, without, however, intrusion or swagger, were permitted to enter
the camp. Before the march I summoned them, and in severe terms
recapitulated their misdeeds, warned them that they would not be
re-engaged, and allowed them provisions and protection only on condition
of their carrying, as the slaves of Arab merchants are expected to do,
our lighter valuables, such as the digester, medicine-chest, gun-cases,
camp-table and chair. They promised with an edifying humility to reform.
I was compelled, however to enliven their murmuring by a few slight
floggings before they would become amenable to a moral rule, and would
acquire those habits of regularity which are as chains and fetters to
the African man. The five Wak’hutu porters who, after robbing and
deserting us on the road to Ujiji, had taken service with my old
acquaintance, Salim bin Rashid--the well-informed Coast Arab merchant,
originally named by H. H. the Sayyid Majid, as my guide and caravan
leader,--begged hard to be again employed. I positively refused to see
them. If at this distance from home they had perjured themselves and had
plundered us, what might be expected when they arrived near their native
country?

As the time of departure approached, I regretted that the arrival of
several travellers had not taken place a month earlier. Salim bin
Rashid, whilst collecting ivory in Usukuma and to the eastward of the
Nyanza Lake, had recovered a Msawahili porter, who, falling sick on the
road, had been left by a caravan from Tanga amongst the wildest of the
East African tribes, the Wamasai or Wahumba. From this man, who spent
two years amongst those plunderers and their rivals in villany the
Warudi, I derived some valuable information concerning the great
northern route which spans the countries lying between the coast and the
Nyanza Lake. I was also called upon by Amayr bin Said el Shaksi, a
strong-framed and stout-hearted greybeard, who, when his vessel
foundered in the waters of the Tanganyika, saved his life by swimming,
and as he had no goods and but few of his slaves had survived, lived for
five months on roots and grasses, till restored to Ujiji by an Arab
canoe. A garrulous senior, fond of “venting his travels,” he spent many
hours with me, talking over his past adventures, and his ocular
knowledge of the Tanganyika enabled me to gather many, perhaps, reliable
details concerning its southern extremity. A few days before departure
Hilal bin Nasur, a well-born Harisi, returned from K’hokoro; he supplied
me with a list of stations and a lengthy description of his various
excursions to the southern provinces.[14]

  [14] For this and other purely geographical details concerning the
  Southern Provinces, the reader is referred to the Journal of the Royal
  Geographical Society, vol. xxix. 1860.

Said bin Salim, in despair that the labours of a whole fortnight spent
in the jungle had produced the slenderest of results, moved from under
the tree in Kazeh plain to Masui, a dirty little village distant about
three miles to the east of our head-quarters. As he reported on the 25th
of September that his gang was nearly completed, I sent forward all but
the personal baggage. The Arab had, however, secured but three Hammals
or bearers for my hammock; one a tottering old man, the other a
knock-kneed boy, and the third a notorious skulk. Although supplied with
meat to strengthen them, as they expressed it, they broke down after a
single march. From that time, finding it useless to engage bearers for a
long journey in these lands, I hired men from district to district, and
dismissed them when tired. The only objection to this proceeding was its
inordinate expense: three cloths being generally demanded by the porter
for thirty miles. A little calculation will give an idea of the relative
cost of travelling in Africa and in Europe. Assuming each man to receive
one cloth, worth one dollar, for every ten miles, and that six porters
are required to carry the hammock, we have in Africa an expenditure on
carriage alone of nearly half a crown per mile: in most parts of Europe
travel on the iron road has been reduced to one penny.

Our return from Unyanyembe to the coast was to take place during the
dead season, when provisions are most expensive and are not unfrequently
unprocurable. But being “Wazungu” and well provided with “African
money,” we might expect the people to sell to us their grain and stores,
which they would have refused at tariff-prices to Arabs or Wasawahili.
We carried as stock fourteen porters’ loads of cloth, viz., 645
domestics, 653 blue-cottons, and 20 coloured cloths, principally
Debwani, Barsati, and Subai, as presents to chiefs. The supply of beads
was represented by one load of ububu or black-porcelains--afterwards
thrown away as useless--half a Frasilah (17·5 pounds) of “locust-legs,”
or pink-porcelains, purchased from Sallum bin Hamid, and eight Kartasat
or papered-bundles of the heavy and expensive “town-breakers,” vermilion
or coral-porcelains, amounting to seventy Fundo, each of which covered
as a rule the day’s minor expenses. The other stores were the fifty-four
Jembe purchased at Msene, besides a few brought from Usukuma by my
companion. These articles are useful in making up kuhonga or blackmail;
in Ugogo and Usagara, which is their western limit, they double in
value, and go even further than a white cotton-cloth. Finally, we had
sixteen cows, heifers, and calves, bought in Usukuma by my companion, at
the rate of six domestics per head. We expected them to be serviceable
as presents, and meanwhile to add materially to our comfort by a more
regular supply of milk than the villages afford. But, alas! having
neglected to mark the animals, all were changed--a fact made evident by
their running dry after a few days: the four calves presently died of
fatigue; whenever an animal lay down upon the road its throat was
summarily cut, others were left to stray and be stolen, and the last
bullock preserved for a sirloin on Christmas was prematurely lost. A
small per-centage proved useful as tribute to the chiefs of Ugogo, and
served as rations when grain was unprocurable. The African, however,
looks upon meat, not as “Posho”--daily bread--but as kitoweyo--kitchen:
two or three pounds of beef merely whet his teeth for the usual Ugali
or porridge of boiled flour. It is almost needless to state that,
despite the best surveillance and the strictest economy, we arrived at
the coast almost destitute; cloth and beads, hoes and cattle, all had
disappeared, and had we possessed treble the quantity, it would have
gone the same way.

The 26th September, 1858, saw us on foot betimes. The hospitable Snay
bin Amir, freshly recovered from an influenza which had confined him for
some days to his sleeping-mat, came personally to superintend our
departure. As no porters had returned for property left behind, and as
all the “cooking-pots” had preceded us on the yester, Snay supplied us
with his own slaves, and provided us with an Arab breakfast, well
cooked, and as usual, neatly served on porcelain plates, with plaited
and coloured straw dish-covers, pointed like Chinese caps. Then,
promising to spend the next day with me, he shook hands and followed me
out of the compound. After a march of three miles, under a white-hot
sun, and through a chilling wind, to which were probably owing our
subsequent sufferings, we entered the dirty little village of Masui,
where a hovel had been prepared for us by Said bin Salim. There we were
greeted by the caravan, and we heard with pleasure that it was ready,
after a fashion, to break ground.

Early on the next morning appeared Snay bin Amir and Musa Mzuri: as I
was suffering from a slight attack of fever, my companion took my place
as host. The paroxysm passing off, allowed me to settle all accounts
with Snay bin Amir, and to put a finishing touch to the names of
stations in the journal. I then thanked these kind-hearted men for their
many good deeds, and promised to report to H. H. the Sayyid Majid the
hospitable reception of his Arab subjects generally, and of Snay and
Musa in particular. About evening time I shook hands with Snay bin
Amir--having so primed the dear old fellow with a stirrup-cup of
burnt-punch, that his gait and effusion of manner were by no means such
as became a staid and stately Arab Shaykh.

On the 4th October, after a week of halts and snail’s marches--the
insufficiency of porterage compelled me to send back men for the
articles left behind at the several villages--we at last reached Hanga,
our former quarters on the eastern confines of the Unyanyembe district.
As long as we were within easy distance of Kazeh it was impossible to
keep the sons of Ramji in camp, and their absence interfered materially
with the completion of the gang. Several desertions took place, a slave
given by Kannena of Ujiji to Said bin Salim, old Musangesi the Asinego,
and two new purchases, male and female, made by the Baloch at Kazeh,
disappeared after the first few marches. The porters were troublesome.
They had divided themselves as usual into Khambi, or crews, but no
regular Kirangozi having been engaged, they preferred, through mutual
jealousy, following Shehe, one of the sons of Ramji. On the road, also,
some heads had been broken, because the cattle-drivers had attempted to
precede the line, and I feared that the fall of a chance shower might
make the whole squad desert, under the impression that the sowing season
had set in. In their idleness and want of excitement, they had
determined to secure at Hanga the bullock claimed by down caravans at
Rubuga. After four days’ halt, without other labour but that of cooking,
they arose under pretext of a blow given by one of the children of Said
bin Salim, and packing up their goods and chattels, poured in mass,
with shouts and yells, from the village, declaring that they were going
home. In sore tribulation, Said bin Salim and the Jemadar begged me to
take an active part, but a short experience of similar scenes amongst
the Bashi-Buzuks at the Dardanelles had made me wiser than my advisers:
the African, like the Asiatic, is naturally averse to the operation
proverbially called “cutting off one’s own nose;” but if begged not to
do so, he may wax, like pinioned men, valorous exceedingly, and dare the
suicidal deed. I did not move from my hut, and in half an hour
everything was _in statu quo ante_. The porters had thrown the blame of
the proceeding upon the blow, consequently a flogging was ordered for
Said bin Salim’s “child,” who, as was ever the case, had been flagrantly
in the wrong; but after return, evading the point, the plaintiffs
exposed the true state of affairs by a direct reference to the bullock.
Thus the “child” escaped castigation, and the bullock was not given till
we reached Rubuga.

At Hanga my companion was taken seriously ill. He had been chilled on
the line of march by the cruel easterly wind, and at the end of the
second march from Kazeh he appeared trembling as if with ague.
Immediately after arrival at the foul village of Hanga--where we lodged
in a kind of cow-house, full of vermin, and exposed directly to the fury
of the cold gales--he complained, in addition to a deaf ear, an inflamed
eye, and a swollen face, of a mysterious pain which often shifted its
seat, and which he knew not whether to attribute to liver or to spleen.
It began with a burning sensation, as by a branding-iron, above the
right breast, and then extended to the heart with sharp twinges. After
ranging around the spleen, it attacked the upper part of the right lung,
and finally it settled in the region of the liver. On the 10th October,
suddenly waking about dawn from a horrible dream, in which a close pack
of tigers, leopards, and other beasts, harnessed with a network of iron
hooks, were dragging him like the rush of a whirlwind over the ground,
he found himself sitting up on the side of his bedding, forcibly
clasping both sides with his hands. Half-stupefied by pain, he called
Bombay, who having formerly suffered from the “Kichyoma-chyoma”--the
“little irons”--raised his master’s right arm, placed him in a sitting
position, as lying down was impossible, and directed him to hold the
left ear behind the head, thus relieving the excruciating and torturing
twinges, by lifting the lung from the liver. The next spasm was less
severe, but the sufferer’s mind had begun to wander, and he again
clasped his sides, a proceeding with which Bombay interfered.

Early on the next morning, my companion, supported by Bombay and
Gaetano, staggered towards the tent. Nearing the doorway, he sent in his
Goanese, to place a chair for sitting, as usual, during the toils of the
day, outside. The support of an arm being thus removed, ensued a second
and violent spasm of cramps and twinges, all the muscles being painfully
contracted. After resting for a few moments, he called his men to assist
him into the house. But neglecting to have a chair previously placed for
him, he underwent a third fit of the same epileptic description, which
more closely resembled those of hydrophobia than aught I had ever
witnessed. He was once more haunted by a crowd of hideous devils,
giants, and lion-headed demons, who were wrenching, with superhuman
force, and stripping the sinews and tendons of his legs down to the
ankles. At length, sitting, or rather lying upon the chair, with limbs
racked by cramps, features drawn and ghastly, frame fixed and rigid,
eyes glazed and glassy, he began to utter a barking noise, and a
peculiar chopping motion of the mouth and tongue, with lips
protruding--the effect of difficulty of breathing--which so altered his
appearance that he was hardly recognisable, and completed the terror of
the beholders. When this, the third and the severest spasm, had passed
away, he called for pen and paper, and fearing that increased weakness
of mind and body might presently prevent any exertion, he wrote an
incoherent letter of farewell to his family. That, however, was the
crisis. He was afterwards able to take the proper precautions, never
moving without assistance, and always ordering a resting-place to be
prepared for him. He spent a better night, with the inconvenience,
however, of sitting up, pillow-propped, and some weeks elapsed before he
could lie upon his sides. Presently, the pains were mitigated, though
they did not entirely cease: this he expressed by saying that “the
knives were sheathed.” Such, gentle reader, in East Africa, is the
kichyoma-chyoma: either one of those eccentric after-effects of fever,
which perplex the European at Zanzibar, or some mysterious manifestation
of the Protean demon Miasma.

I at once sent an express to Snay bin Amir for the necessary drugs. The
Arabs treat this complaint by applying to the side powdered myrrh mixed
with yoke of egg, and converted into a poultice with flour of mung
(Phaseolus Mungo). The material was duly forwarded, but it proved of
little use. Said bin Salim meanwhile, after sundry vague hints
concerning the influence of the Father of Hair, the magnificent comet
then spanning the western skies, insisted, as his people invariably do
on such conjunctures, upon my companion being visited by the mganga, or
medicine-man of the caravan. That reverend personage, after claiming and
receiving the usual fee, a fat goat, anointed with its grease two little
bits of wood strung on to a tape of tree-fibre, and contented himself
with fastening this Mpigi--the negroid’s elixir vitæ--round my
companion’s waist. The ligature, however, was torn off after a few
minutes, as its only effect was to press upon and pain the tenderest
part.

During the forced halt which followed my companion’s severe attack, I
saw that, in default of physic, change of air was the most fitting
restorative. My benumbed legs and feet still compelling me to use a
hammock, a second was rigged up for the invalid; and by good fortune
thirteen unloaded porters of a down caravan consented to carry us both
for a large sum to Rubuga. The sons of Ramji were imperatively ordered
to leave Kazeh under pain of dismissal, which none would incur as they
had a valuable investment in slaves: with their aid the complement of
porters was easily and speedily filled up.

Seedy Mubarak Bombay--in the interior the name became Mamba (a
crocodile) or Pombe (small beer)--had long before returned to his former
attitude, that of a respectful and most ready servant. He had, it is
true, sundry uncomfortable peculiarities. A heaven-born “Pagazi,” he
would load himself on the march with his “T’haka-t’haka,” or
“chow-chow,” although a porter had been especially hired for him. He had
no memory: an article once taken by him was always thrown upon the
ground and forgotten: in a single trip he broke my elephant gun, killed
my riding-ass, and lost its bridle. Like the Eastern Africans
generally, he lacked the principle of immediate action; if beckoned to
for a gun in the field he would probably first delay to look round, then
retire, and lastly advance. He had a curious inverted way of doing all
that he did. The water-bottle was ever carried on the march either
uncorked or inverted; his waistcoat was generally wound round his neck,
and it appeared fated not to be properly buttoned; whilst he walked
bareheaded in the sun, his Fez adorned the tufty poll of some comrade;
and at the halt he toiled like a charwoman to raise our tents and to
prepare them for habitation, whilst his slave, the large lazy Maktubu, a
boy-giant from the mountains of Urundi, sat or dozed under the cool
shade. Yet with all his faults and failures Bombay, for his unwearied
activity, and especially from his undeviating honesty,--there was no
man, save our “Negro Rectitude,” in the whole camp who had not proved
his claim to the title triliteral--was truly valuable. Said bin Salim
had long forfeited my confidence by his carelessness and extravagance;
and the disappearance of the outfit committed to him at Ujiji, in
favour, as I afterwards learned, of an Arab merchant-friend, rendered
him unfit for the responsibilities of stewardship.

Having summoned Said bin Salim, I told him with all gentleness, in order
to spare his “shame”--the Persian proverb says, Fell not the tree which
thou hast planted--that being now wiser in Eastern African travel than
before, I intended to relieve him of his troublesome duties. He heard
this announcement with the wriest of faces; and his perturbation was not
diminished when informed that the future distribution of cloth should be
wholly in the hands of Bombay, checked by my companion’s
superintendence. The loads were accordingly numbered and registered;
the Pagazi were forbidden, under pain of punishment, to open or to
change them without permission; and Said bin Salim received, like the
Baloch, a certain monthly amount of beads, besides rations of rice for
the consumption of his children. This arrangement was persevered in till
we separated upon the seaboard: it acted well, saving outfit, time, and
a host of annoyances; moreover, it gave us command, as the African man,
like the lower animals, respects only, if he respects anything, the hand
that gives, that feeds him. It was wonderful to see how the “bone of
contention,” cloth, having been removed, the fierceness of those who
were formerly foes melted and merged into friendship and fraternisation.
The triad of bitter haters, Said bin Salim, the monocular Jemadar, and
Muinyi Kidogo, now marched and sat and ate together as if never weary of
such society; they praised one another openly and without reserve, and
if an evil tale ever reached my ear its subject was the innocent
Bombay--its object was to ruin him in my estimation.

Acutely remembering the trouble caused by the feuds between Said bin
Salim and Kidogo upon the subject of work, I directed the former to take
sole charge of the porters, to issue their rations, and to superintend
their loads. The better to assist him, two disorderly sons of Ramji were
summarily flogged, and several others who refused to carry our smaller
valuables were reduced to order by the usual process of stopping
rations. “Shehe,” though chosen as Kirangozi or guide from motives of
jealousy by the porters, was turned out of office; he persisted in
demanding cloth for feeing an Unyamwezi medicine-man, in order to
provide him, a Moslem! with charms against the evil eye, a superstition
unknown to this part of Eastern Africa. The Pagazi, ordered to elect
one of their number, named the youth Twánígáná, who had brought with him
a large gang. But the plague of the party, a hideous, puckered, and
scowling old man who had called himself “Muzungu Mbaya,” or the “Wicked
White,” so far prevailed that at the first halt Twanigana, with his
blushing honours in the shape of a scarlet waistcoat fresh upon him, was
found squatting solus under a tree, the rest of the party having
mutinously preceded him. I halted at once and recalled the porters, who,
after a due interval of murmuring, reappeared. And subsequently, by
invariably siding with the newly-made Kirangozi, and by showing
myself ready to enforce obedience by any means and every means, I
gave the long-legged and weak-minded youth, who was called
“Gopa-Gopa”--“Funk-stick”--on account of his excessive timidity, a
little confidence, and reduced his unruly followers to all the
discipline of which their race is capable.

As we were threatened with want of water on the way, I prepared for that
difficulty by packing a box with empty bottles, which, when occasion
required, might be filled at the best springs. The Zemzemiyah or
travelling canteen of the East African is everywhere a long-necked
gourd, slung to the shoulder by a string. But it becomes offensive after
a short use, and it can never be entrusted to servant, slave, or porter
without its contents being exhausted before a mile is measured.

By these arrangements, the result of that after-wisdom which some have
termed fools’ wit, I commenced the down march under advantages, happy as
a “_bourgeois_” of trappers in the joyous _pays sauvage_. I have
detailed perhaps to a wearisome length the preparations for the march.
But the success of such expeditions mainly depends upon the measures
adopted before and immediately after departure, and this dry knowledge
may be useful to future adventurers in the great cause of discovery.

The stages now appeared shorter, the sun cooler, the breeze warmer;
after fourteen months of incessant fevers, the party had become
tolerably acclimatised; all were now loud in praise, as they had been
violent in censure, of the “water and air.” Before entering the Fiery
Field, the hire for carrying the hammocks became so exorbitant that I
dismissed the bearers, drew on my jack-boots, mounted the half-caste
Zanzibari ass, and appeared once more as the Mtongi of a caravan. After
a fortnight my companion had convalesced so rapidly that he announced
himself ready to ride. The severe liver pains had disappeared, leaving
behind them, however, for a time, a harassing heart-ache and nausea,
with other bilious symptoms, which developed themselves when exposed to
the burning sun of the several tirikeza. Gradually these sequelæ ceased,
sleep and appetite returned, and at K’hok’ho, in Ugogo, my companion had
strength enough to carry a heavy rifle, and to do damage amongst the
antelope and the guinea fowl. Our Goanese servants also, after suffering
severely from fever and face-ache, became different men; Valentine,
blessed with a more strenuous diathesis, carried before him a crop like
a well-crammed capon. As the porters left this country, and the escort
approached their homes, there was a notable change of demeanour. All
waxed civil, even to servility, grumbling ceased, and smiles mantled
every countenance. Even Muzungu Mbaya, who in Unyamwezi had been the
head and front of all offence, was to be seen in Ugogo meekly sweeping
out our tents with a bunch of thorns.

We left Hanga, the dirty cow-village, on the 13th October. The seven
short marches between that place and Tura occupied fifteen days, a
serious waste of time and cloth, caused by the craving of the porters
for their homes. It was also necessary to march with prudence,
collisions between the party and the country-people, who are
unaccustomed to see the articles which they most covet carried out of
the country, were frequent: in fact we flew to arms about every second
day, and after infinite noise and chatter, we quitted them to boast of
the deeds of “derring do,” which had been consigned to the limbo of
things uncreate by the fainéance of the adversary. At Eastern Tura,
where we arrived on the 28th October, a halt of six days was occasioned
by the necessity of providing and preparing food, at that season scarce
and dear, for the week’s march through the Fiery Field. The caravan was
then mustered, when its roll appeared as follows. We numbered in our own
party two Europeans, two Goanese, Bombay with two slaves--the child-man
Nasibu and the boy-giant Maktubu--the bull-headed Mabruki, Nasir, a
half-caste Mazrui Arab, who had been sent with me by the Arabs of Kazeh
to save his morals, and Taufiki, a Msawahili youth, who had taken
service as gun-carrier to the coast: they formed a total of 10 souls.
Said bin Salim was accompanied by 12--the charmers Halimah and Zawada,
his five children, and a little gang of five fresh captures, male and
female. The Baloch, 12 in number, had 15 slaves and 11 porters,
composing a total of 38. The sons of Ramji, and the ass-drivers under
Kidogo their leader, were in all 24, including their new acquisitions.
Finally 68 Wanyamwezi porters, carrying the outfit and driving the
cattle, completed the party to 152 souls.

[Illustration: Jiwe la Mkoa, the Round Rock.]

On the 3rd November, the caravan issuing from Tura plunged manfully into
the Fiery Field, and after seven marches in as many days, halted for
breath and forage at Jiwe la Mkoa, the Round Stone. A few rations having
been procured in its vicinity, we resumed our way on the 12th November,
and in two days exchanged, with a sensible pleasure, the dull expanse of
dry brown bush and brushwood, dead thorn-trees, and dry Nullahs, for the
fertile red plain of Mdaburu. After that point began the transit of
Ugogo, where I had been taught to expect accidents: they resolved
themselves, however, into nothing more than the disappearance of cloth
and beads in inordinate quantities. We were received by Magomba, the
Sultan of Kanyenye, with a charge of magic, for which of course it was
necessary to pay heavily. The Wanyamwezi porters seemed even more timid
on the down-journey than on the up-march. They slank about like curs,
and the fierce look of a Mgogo boy was enough to strike a general
terror. Twanigana, when safe in the mountains of Usagara, would
frequently indulge me in a dialogue like the following, and it may serve
as a specimen of the present state of conversation in East Africa:--

“The state, Mdula?” (_i.e._ Abdullah, a word unpronounceable to Negroid
organs.)

“The state is very! (well) and thy state?”

“The state is very! (well) and the state of Spikka? (my companion).”

“The state of Spikka is very! (well.)”

“We have escaped the Wagogo (resumes Twanigana), white man O!”

“We have escaped, O my brother!”

“The Wagogo are bad.”

“They are bad.”

“The Wagogo are very bad.”

“They are very bad.”

“The Wagogo are not good.”

“They are not good.”

“The Wagogo are not at all good.”

“They are not at all good.”

“I greatly feared the Wagogo, who kill the Wanyamwezi.”

“Exactly so!”

“But now I don’t fear them. I call them ----s and ----s, and I would
fight the whole tribe, white man O!”

“Truly so, O my brother!”

And thus for two mortal hours, till my ennui turned into marvel.
Twanigana however was, perhaps, in point of intellect somewhat below the
usual standard of African young men. Older and more experienced was
Muzungu Mbaya, and I often listened with no small amusement to the
attempts made by the Baloch to impress upon this truly African mind a
respect for their revelation. Gul Mohammed was the missionary of the
party: like Moslems generally, however, his thoughts had been taught to
run in one groove, and if disturbed by startling objections, they were
all abroad. Similarly I have observed in the European old lady, that on
such subjects all the world must think with her, and I have been
suspected of drawing the long-bow when describing the worship of gods
with four arms, and goddesses with two heads.

Muzungu Mbaya, as the old hunks calls himself, might be sitting deeply
meditative, at the end of the march, before the fire, warming his inner
legs, smoking his face, and ever and anon casting pleasant glances at a
small black earthen pipkin, whence arose the savoury steam of meat and
vegetables. A concatenation of ideas induces Gul Mohammed to break into
his favourite theme.

“And thou, Muzungu Mbaya, thou also must die!”

“Ugh! ugh!” replies the Muzungu personally offended, “don’t speak in
that way! Thou must die too.”

“It is a sore thing to die,” resumes Gul Mohammed.

“Hoo! Hoo!” exclaims the other, “it is bad, very bad, never to wear a
nice cloth, no longer to dwell with one’s wife and children, not to eat
and drink, snuff, and smoke tobacco. Hoo! Hoo! it is bad, very bad!”

“But we shall eat,” rejoins the Moslem, “the flesh of birds, mountains
of meat, and delicate roasts, and drink sugared water, and whatever we
hunger for.”

The African’s mind is disturbed by this tissue of contradictions. He
considers birds somewhat low feeding, roasts he adores, he contrasts
mountains of meat with his poor half-pound in pot, he would sell himself
for sugar; but again he hears nothing of tobacco; still he takes the
trouble to ask

“Where, O my brother?”

“There,” exclaims Gul Mohammed, pointing to the skies.

This is a “chokepear” to Muzungu Mbaya. The distance is great, and he
can scarcely believe that his interlocutor has visited the firmament to
see the provision; he therefore ventures upon the query,

“And hast thou been there, O my brother?”

“Astaghfar ullah (I beg pardon of Allah)!” ejaculates Gul Mohammed, half
angry, half amused. “What a mshenzi (pagan) this is! No, my brother, I
have not exactly been there, but my Mulungu (Allah) told my Apostle[15],
who told his descendants, who told my father and mother, who told me,
that when we die we shall go to a Shamba (a plantation), where----”

  [15] Those who translate Rasul, meaning, literally, “one sent,” by
  prophet instead of apostle, introduce a notable fallacy into the very
  formula of Moslem faith. Mohammed never pretended to prophecy in our
  sense of foretelling future events.

“Oof!” grunts Muzungu Mbaya, “it is good of you to tell us all this
Upumbafu (nonsense) which your mother told you. So there are plantations
in the skies?”

“Assuredly,” replies Gul Mohammed, who expounds at length the Moslem
idea of paradise to the African’s running commentary of “Nenda we!” (be
off!), “Mama-e!” (O my mother!) and “Tumbanina,” which may not be
translated.

Muzungu Mbaya, who for the last minute has been immersed in thought, now
suddenly raises his head; and, with somewhat of a goguenard air,
inquires:

“Well then, my brother, thou knowest all things! answer me, is thy
Mulungu black like myself, white like this Muzungu, or whity-brown as
thou art?”

Gul Mohammed is fairly floored: he ejaculates sundry la haul! to collect
his wits for the reply,--

“Verily the Mulungu hath no colour.”

“To-o-oh! Tuh!” exclaims the Muzunga, contorting his wrinkled
countenance, and spitting with disgust upon the ground. He was now
justified in believing that he had been made a laughing-stock. The
mountain of meat had, to a certain extent, won over his better judgment:
the fair vision now fled, and left him to the hard realities of the
half-pound. He turns a deaf ear to every other word; and, devoting all
his assiduity to the article before him, he unconsciously obeys the
advice which many an Eastern philosopher has inculcated to his
disciples--

  “Hold fast the hour, though fools say nay,
     The spheres revolve, they bring thee sorrow;
   The wise enjoys his joy to-day,
     The fool shall joy his joy to-morrow.”

The transit of Ugogo occupied three weeks, from the 14th of November to
the 5th of December. In Kanyenye we were joined by a large down-caravan
of Wanyamwezi, carrying ivories; the musket-shots which announced the
conclusion of certain brotherly ties between the sons of Ramji and the
porters, sounded in my ears like minute-guns announcing the decease of
our hopes of a return to the coast viâ Kilwa. At Kanyenye, also, we met
the stout Msawahili Abdullah bin Nasib, alias Kisesa, who was once more
marching into Unyamwezi: he informed me that the slaughter of Salim bin
Nasir, the Bu-Saidi, and the destruction of the Rubeho settlements,
after the murder of a porter, had closed our former line through
Usagara. He also supplied me with valuable tea and sugar, and my
companion with a quantity of valueless, or perhaps misunderstood,
information, which I did not deem worth sifting. On the 6th of December,
arrived at our old ground in the Ugogi Dhun, we were greeted by a
freshly-arrived caravan, commanded by Jumah bin Mbwana and his two
brothers, half-caste Hindi or Indian Moslems, from Mombasah.

The Hindis, after receiving and returning news with much solemnity,
presently drew forth a packet of letters and papers, which as usual
promised trouble. This time, however, the post was to produce the second
manner of annoyance--official “wigging,”--the first being intelligence
of private misfortune. Imprimis, came a note from Captain Rigby, the
newly-appointed successor to Lieut.-Col. Hamerton at Zanzibar, and that
name was not nice in the nostrils of men. Secondly, the following
pleasant announcement. I give the whole letter:

  DEAR BURTON,--Go ahead! Vogel and Macguire dead--murdered. Write often
  to

  Yours truly, N. S.

And thirdly came the inevitable official wig.

Convinced, by sundry conversations with Arabs and others at Suez and
Aden, during my last overland journey to India, and by the details
supplied to me by a naval officer who was thoroughly conversant with the
Red Sea, that, in consequence of the weakness and insufficiency of the
squadron then employed, slavery still flourished, and that the numerous
British subjects and protegés were inadequately protected, I had dared,
after arrival at Zanzibar, privately to address on the 15th of December,
1856, a letter upon the subject to the secretary of the Royal
Geographical Society. It contained an “Account of Political Affairs in
the Red Sea,”--to quote the words of the paper, and expressed a hope
that it might be “deemed worthy to be transmitted to the Court of
Directors, or to the Foreign Office.”[16] The only acknowledgment which
I received, was the edifying information that the Secretary to
Government, Bombay, was directed by the Right Honourable the Governor in
Council, Bombay, to state that my “want of discretion and due regard for
the authorities to whom I am subordinate, has been regarded with
displeasure by the Government.”

  [16] The whole correspondence, with its reply and counter-reply, are
  printed in Appendix.

This was hard. I have perhaps been Quixotic enough to attempt a
suggestion that, though the Mediterranean is fast becoming a French
lake, by timely measures the Red Sea may be prevented from being
converted into a Franco-Russo-Austrian lake. But an Englishman in these
days must be proud, very proud, of his nation, and withal somewhat
regretful that he was not born of some mighty mother of men--such as
Russia and America--who has not become old and careless enough to leave
her bairns unprotected, or cold and crusty enough to reward a little
word of wisdom from her babes and sucklings with a scolding or a buffet.

The sore, however, had its salve. The official wig was dated the 23rd of
July, 1857. Posts are slow in Africa. When received on the 5th of
December, 1858, it was accompanied by a copy of a Bombay Newspaper,
which reported that on the 30th of June, 1858, “a massacre of nearly all
the Christians took place at Juddah, on the Red Sea,” and that “it was
apprehended that the news from Juddah might excite the Arab population
of Suez to the commission of similar outrages.”

At Ugogi, which, it will be remembered, is considered the half-way
station between Unyanyembe and the coast, the sons of Ramji and the
porters detained us for a day, declaring that there was a famine upon
the Mukondokwa road which we had previously traversed. At the same time
they warned us that we should find the great chief, who has given a name
to the Kiringawana route, an accomplished extortioner, and one likely to
insist upon our calling upon him in person. Having given their
ultimatum, they would not recede from it: for us, therefore, nothing
remained but to make a virtue of necessity. We loaded on the 7th of
December, and commenced the passage of the Usagara mountains by the
Kiringawana line.

I must indent upon the patience of the reader by a somewhat detailed
description of this southern route, which is separated from the northern
by a maximum interval of forty-three miles. The former being the more
ancient, contains some settlements like Maroro and Kisanga, not unknown
by report to European geographers. It is preferred by down-caravans, who
have no store of cloth to be demanded by the rapacious chiefs: the
up-country travellers, who have asses, must frequent the Mukondokwa, on
account of the severity of the passes on the Kiringawana.

The Kiringawana numbers nineteen short stages, which may be accomplished
without hardship in twelve days, at the rate of about five hours per
diem. Provisions are procurable in almost every part, except when the
Warori are “out;” and water is plentiful, if not good. Travel is
rendered pleasant by long stretches of forest land without bush or fetid
grass. The principal annoyances are the thievish propensities of the
natives and the extortionate demands of the chief. A minor plague is
that of mosquitoes, that haunt the rushy banks of the hill rivulets,
some of which are crossed nine or ten times in the same day; moreover,
the steep and slippery ascents and descents of black earth and mud, or
rough blocks of stone, make the porters unwilling to work.

Breaking ground at 6 A.M. on the 7th December, we marched to Murundusi,
the frontier of Usagara and Uhehe. The path lay over a rolling thorny
jungle with dottings of calabash at the foot of the Rubeho mountains,
and lumpy outliers falling on the right of the road. After three hours’
march, the sound of the horses announced the vicinity of a village, and
the country opening out, displayed a scene of wonderful fertility, the
effect of subterraneous percolations from the highlands. Nowhere are the
tamarind, the sycamore, and the calabash, seen in such perfection; of
unusual size also are the perfumed myombo and the mkora, the myongo, the
ndabi, the chamvya, with its edible yellowish-red berries, and a large
sweet-smelling acacia. Amidst these piles of verdure, troops of
parroquets, doves, jays, and bright fly-catchers, find a home, and
frequent flocks and herds, a resting-place beneath the cool shade. The
earth is still sprinkled with “black-jacks,” the remains of trees which
have come to an untimely end. In the fields near the numerous villages
rise little sheds to shelter the guardians of the crops, and cattle
wander over the commons or unreclaimed lands. Water, which is here pure
and good, lies in pits from fifteen to twenty feet deep, staged over
with tree trunks, and the people draw it in large shallow buckets, made
of gourds sewn together and strengthened with sticks. Towards the
evening, a cold east-wind brought up with it a storm of thunder and
rain, which was pronounced by the experts to be the opening of the rainy
monsoon in Usagara.

The next day led us over an elevated undulation cut by many jagged
watercourses, and still flanked by the outlying masses which fall
westward into the waste of Mgunda M’khali. After an hour’s march, we
turned abruptly eastwards, and crossing a rugged stony fork, presently
found a dwarf basin of red soil which supplied water. The Wahehe owners
of the land have a chronic horror of the Warori; on sighting our
peaceful caravan, they at once raised the war-cry, and were quieted only
by the certainty that we were even more frightened than they were. At
Kinganguku, the night was again wild and stormy; in fact, after leaving
Ugogi, we were regularly rained upon till we had crossed the Mountains.

On the 9th December, we marched in six hours from Kinyanguku to Rudi,
the principal district of Uhehe. It was an ascent plunging into the
hills, which, however, on this line are easy to traverse, compared with
those of the northern route; the paths were stony and rugged, and the
earth was here white and glaring, there of a dull red colour. Water pure
and plentiful was found in pits about fifteen feet deep, which dented
the sole of a picturesque Fiumara. The people assembled to stare with
the stare pertinacious; they demanded large prices for their small
reserves of provisions, but they sold tobacco at the rate of two or
three cakes, each weighing about one pound and a half, for a shukkah.

Passing from the settlements of Rudi, on the next morning we entered a
thorn jungle, where the handiwork of the fierce Warori appeared in many
a shell of smoke-stained village. We then crossed two Fiumaras exactly
similar to those which attract the eye in the Somali country, broad
white sandy beds, with high stiff earth-banks deeply water-cut, and with
huge emerald-foliaged trees rising from a hard bare red plain. After a
short march of three hours, we pitched under a tamarind, and sent our
men abroad to collect provisions. Tobacco was cheap, as at Rudi, grain
and milk, whether fresh or sour, were expensive, and two shukkahs were
demanded for a lamb or a young goat. The people of Mporota are notorious
pilferers. About noontide a loud “hooroosh” and the scampering of
spearmen over the country announced a squabble; presently our people
reappeared driving before them a flock which they had seized in revenge
for a daring attempt at larceny. I directed them to retain one fine
specimen--the _lex talionis_ is ever the first article of the penal code
in the East--and to return the rest. Notwithstanding these energetic
measures, the youth Taufiki awaking in the night with a shriek like one
affected by nightmare, found that a Mhehe robber had snatched his cloth,
and favoured by the shades had escaped with impunity. The illness of
Said bin Salim detained us for a day in this den of thieves.

The 12th December carried us in three hours from Mporota to Ikuka of
Uhehe. The route wound over red steps amongst low stony hills, the legs
of the spider-like system, and the lay of the heights was in exceeding
confusion. Belted by thorny scrub and forests of wild fruit trees--some
edible, others poisonous--were several villages, surrounded by fields,
especially rich in ground-nuts. Beyond Ikuka the road entered stony and
rugged land, with a few sparse cultivations almost choked by thick bushy
jungle; the ragged villages contained many dogs, and a few peculiarly
hideous human beings. Thence it fell into a fine Fiumara, with pure
sweet water in pools, breaking the surface of loose white sand; upon the
banks, red soil, varying from a few inches to 20 feet in depth, overlay
bands and lines of rounded pebbles, based on beds of granite, schiste,
and sandstone. After ascending a hill, we fell into a second
watercourse, whose line was almost choked with wild and thorny
vegetation, and we raised the tents in time to escape a pitiless
pelting, which appeared to spring from a gap in the southern mountains.
The time occupied in marching from Ikuka to Inena of Usagara was four
hours, and, as usual in these short stages, there was no halt.

Two porters were found missing on the morning of the 14th
December,--they had gone for provisions, and had slept in the
villages,--moreover, heavy clouds hanging on the hill-tops threatened
rain: a Tirikeza was therefore ordered. At 11 A.M. we set out over
rises, falls, and broken ground, at the foot of the neighbouring
highlands which enclose a narrow basin, the seat of villages and
extensive cultivation. Small cascades flashing down the walls that
hemmed us in showed the copiousness of the last night’s fall. After five
hours’ heavy marching, we forded a rapid Fiumara, whose tall banks of
stiff red clay, resting upon tilted-up strata of greenstone, enclosed a
stream calf-deep, and from 10 to 12 feet broad. At this place, called
Ginyindo, provisions were hardly procurable; consequently the caravan,
as was its wont on such occasions, quarrelled for disport, and the
Baloch, headed by “Gray-beard Musa,” began to abuse and to beat the
Pagazis.

The morning of the 15th December commenced with a truly African scene.
The men were hungry, and the air was chill. They prepared, however, to
start quietly betimes. Suddenly a bit of rope was snatched, a sword
flashed in the air, a bow-horn quivered with nocked arrow, and the whole
caravan rushed frantically with a fearful row to arms. As no one
dissuaded the party from “fighting it out,” they apparently became
friends, and took up their loads. My companion and I rode quietly
forward: scarcely, however, had we emerged from the little basin in
which the camp had been placed, than a terrible hubbub of shouts and
yells announced that the second act had commenced. After a few minutes,
Said bin Salim came forward in trembling haste to announce that the
Jemadar had again struck a Pagazi, who, running into the Nullah, had
thrown stones with force enough to injure his assailant, consequently
that the Baloch had drawn their sabres and had commenced a general
massacre of porters. Well understanding this misrepresentation, we
advanced about a mile, and thence sent back two of the sons of Ramji to
declare that we would not be delayed, and that if not at once followed,
we would engage other porters at the nearest village. This brought on a
denouement: presently the combatants appeared, the Baloch in a high
state of grievance, the Africans declaring that they had not come to
fight but to carry. I persuaded them both to defer settling the business
till the evening, when both parties well crammed with food listened
complacently to that gross personal abuse, which, in these lands,
represents a reprimand.

Resuming our journey, we crossed two high and steep hills, the latter of
which suddenly disclosed to the eye the rich and fertile basin of
Maroro. Its principal feature is a perennial mountain stream, which,
descending the chasm which forms the northern pass, winds sluggishly
through the plain of muddy black soil and patches of thick rushy grass,
and diffused through watercourses of raised earth, covers the land with
tobacco, holcus, sweet-potato, plantains, and maize. The cereals stood
five feet high, and were already in ear: according to the people, never
less than two, and often three and four crops are reaped during the
year. This hill-girt district is placed at one month’s march from the
coast. At the southern extremity, there is a second opening like the
northern, and through it the “River of Maroro” sheds into the Rwaha,
distant in direct line two marches west with southing.

[Illustration: THE BASIN OF MARORO.]

Maroro, or Malolo, according to dialect, is the “Marorrer town” of Lt.
Hardy, (Transactions of the Bombay Geographical Society, from Sept. 1841
to May 1844,) who, in 1811-12, was dispatched with Capt. Smee by the
Government of Bombay to collect information at Kilwa and its
dependencies, and the East African coast generally. Mr. Cooley (Inner
Africa Laid Open, p. 56) writes the word Marora, and explains it to mean
“trade:” the people, however, ignore the derivation. It is not a town,
but a district, containing as usual on this line a variety of little
settlements. The confined basin is by no means a wholesome locality, the
air is warm and “muggy,” the swamp vegetation is fetid, the mosquitos
venomous, and the population, afflicted with fevers and severe
ulceration, is not less wretched and degraded than the Wak’hutu. Their
habitations are generally Tembe, but small and poor, and their fields
are dotted with dwarf platforms for the guardians of the crops. Here a
cow costs twelve cloths, a goat three, whilst two fowls are procurable
for a shukkah. Maroro is the westernmost limit of the touters from the
Mrima; there are seldom less than 150 muskets present, and the Wasagara
have learned to hold strangers in horror.

In these basins caravans endeavour, and are forced by the people, to
encamp upon the further end after marching through. At the end of a
short stage of three hours we forded three times the river bed, a muddy
bottom, flanked by stiff rushes, and encamped under a Mkamba tree, above
and to windward of the fetid swamp. The night was hot and rainy, clouds
of mosquitos rose from their homes below, and the cynhyænas were so
numerous that it was necessary to frighten them away with shots. The
labour of laying in provisions detained us for a day at Maroro.

On the 17th December we left the little basin by its southern opening,
which gradually winds eastward. The march was delayed by the
distribution of the load of a porter who had fled to the Warori. After
crossing a fourth rise, the road fell into the cultivated valley of the
Mwega River. This is a rush-girt stream of pure water, about 20 feet
broad, and knee-deep at the fords in dry weather; its course is S.W. to
the stream of Maroro. Like the Mukondokwa, it spreads out, except where
dammed by the correspondence of the salient and the re-entering angles
of the hill spurs. The road runs sometimes over this rocky and jungly
ground, horrid with thorn and cactus, fording the stream, where there is
no room for a path, and at other times it traverses lagoon-like
backwaters, garnished with grass, rush, and stiff shrubs, based upon
sun-cracked or miry beds. After a march of four hours we encamped in the
Mwega Basin, where women brought down grain in baskets: cattle were seen
upon the higher grounds, but the people refused to sell milk or meat.

The next stage was Kiperepeta; it occupied about 2 hours 30 min. The
road was rough, traversing the bushy jungly spurs on the left bank of
the rushy narrow stream; in many places there were steps and ladders of
detached blocks and boulders. At last passing through a thick growth,
where the smell of jasmine loads the air, we ascended a steep and rugged
incline, whose summit commanded a fine back view of the Maroro Basin. A
shelving counterslope of earth deeply cracked and cut with watercourses
led us to the encamping-ground, a red patch dotted with tall calabashes,
and boasting a few pools of brackish water. We had now entered the land
of grass-kilts and beehive huts, built for defence upon the ridges of
the hills: whilst cactus, aloe, and milk-bush showed the diminished
fertility of the soil. About Kiperepeta it was said a gang of nearly 400
touters awaited with their muskets the arrival of caravans from the
interior.

On the 19th December, leaving Kiperepeta, we toiled up a steep incline,
cut by the sinuated channels of water-courses, to a col or pass, the
water-parting of this line in Usagara: before south-westerly, the
versant thence-forward trends to the south-east. Having topped the
summit, we began the descent along the left bank of a mountain burn, the
Rufita, which, forming in the rainy season a series of rapids and
cascades, casts its waters into the Yovu, and eventually into the Rwaha
River. The drainage of the hill-folds cuts, at every re-entering angle,
a ragged irregular ditch, whose stony depths are impassable to
heavily-laden asses. After a toilsome march of three hours, we fell into
the basin of Kisanga, which, like others on this line, is an enlarged
punchbowl, almost surrounded by a mass of green hills, cone rising upon
cone, with tufted cappings of trees, and long lines of small
haycock-huts ranged along the acclivities and ridge-lines. The floor of
the basin is rough and uneven; a rich cultivation extends from the
hill-slopes to the stream which drains the sole, and fine trees, amongst
which are the mparamusi and the sycomore, relieve the uniformity of the
well-hoed fields. Having passed through huts and villages, where two
up-caravans of Wanyamwezi were halted, displaying and haggling over the
cloths intended as tribute to the Sultan Kiringawana, we prudently
forded the Yovu, and placed its bed between ourselves and the enemy. The
Yovu, which bisects the basin of Kisanga from N. to S. and passes by the
S.E. into the Rwaha, was then about four feet deep; it flowed down a
muddy bed laced with roots, and its banks, whence a putrid smell
exhaled, were thick lines of sedgy grass which sheltered myriads of
mosquitos. Ascending an eminence to the left of the stream, we obtained
lodgings, and at once proceeded to settle kuhonga with the chief,
Kiringawana.

[Illustration: Rufita Pass in Usagara.]

The father, or, according to others, the grandfather of the present
chief, a Mnyamwezi of the ancient Wakalaganza tribe, first emigrated
from his home in Usagozi, and, being a mighty elephant-hunter and a
powerful wizard, he persuaded by arts and arms the Wasagara, who allowed
him to settle amongst them, to constitute him their liege lord. The
actual Kiringawana, having spent his heir-apparent days at Zanzibar,
returned to Kisanga on the death of his sire, and reigned in his stead.
His long residence among the Arabs has so far civilised him that he
furnishes his several homes comfortably enough; he receives his
tributary-visitors with ceremony, affects amenity of manner, clothes his
short, stout, and sooty person in rainbow-coloured raiment, carries a
Persian blade, and is a cunning diplomatist in the art of choosing
cloth.

On the day of arrival I was visited by Msimbiri, the
heir-apparent--kingly dignity prevented Kiringawana wading the
Yovu,--who gave some information about the Rwaha river, and promised
milk. The 20th of December was expended in the palaver about “dash.”
After abundant chaffering, the chief accepted from the Expedition,
though passing through his acres on the return-march, when presents are
poor, three expensive coloured cloths, and eight shukkah of domestics
and Kaniki; wondering the while that the wealthy Muzungu had neglected
to reserve for him something more worthy of his acceptance. He returned
a fat bullock, which was instantly shot and devoured. In their indolence
the caravan-men again began to quarrel; and Wulaydi, a son of Ramji,
speared a porter, an offence for which he was ordered, if he failed to
give satisfaction for the assault, to be turned out of camp. A march was
anticipated on the next day, when suddenly, as the moon rose over the
walls of the basin, a fine bonfire on the neighbouring hill and a
terrible outcry announced an accident in the village occupied by the
sons of Ramji. Muinyi Buyuni had left in charge of the hearth the object
of his affections, a fine strapping slave-girl, whom for certain reasons
he expected to sell for a premium at Zanzibar, and she had made it over
to some friend, who probably had fallen asleep. The hut was soon in
flames,--in these lands fires are never extinguished,--and the
conflagration had extended to the nearer hovels, consuming the cloth,
grain, and furniture of the inmates. Fortunately, the humans and the
cattle escaped; but a delay was inevitable. The elder who owned the
chief hut demanded only eighty-eight cloths, one slave, thirteen Fundo
of beads, and other minor articles:--a lesser sum would have purchased
the whole household. His cupidity was restrained by Kiringawana, who
named as indemnity thirty cloths, here worth thirty dollars, which I
gave with extreme unwillingness, promising the sons of Ramji, who
appeared rather to enjoy the excitement, that they should pay for their
carelessness at Zanzibar.

During the second day’s halt, I attempted to obtain from Kiringawana a
permission to depart from the beaten track. The noble descent of this
chief gives him power over the guides of the Wanyamwezi caravans. In
consequence of an agreement with the Diwans of the Mrima, he has lately
closed the direct route to Kilwa, formerly regularly traversed, and he
commands a little army of touters. He returned a gracious reply, which
in East Africa, however, means no gracious intentions.

Resuming our march on the 22nd of December, we descended from the
eminence into the basin of the Yovu River, and fought our way through a
broad “Wady,” declining from east to west, with thick lines of tree and
bush down the centre, and everywhere else an expanse of dark and
unbroken green, like a plate of spinach. Passing along the southern bank
amongst wild Annonas and fine Palmyras, over a good path where there was
little mud, we presently ascended rising ground through an open forest,
of the rainbow hues before described, where sweet air and soft filmy
shade formed, whilst the sun was low and the breath of the morning was
pure and good, most enjoyable travelling. After about five hours we
descended into the basin of the Ruhembe rivulet, which seems to be the
“Rohambi people” of Mr. Cooley’s Itinerary. (Geography of N’yassi, p.
22.) The inhabitants are Wasagara; they supply travellers with manioc,
grain, and bitter egg-plants, of a scarlet colour resembling tomatos.
Cultivation flourishes upon the hill-sides and in the swampy grounds
about the sole of the basin, which is bisected by a muddy and apparently
stagnant stream ten feet broad. We pitched tents in the open central
space of a village, and met a caravan of Wasawahili from Zanzibar, who
reported to Said bin Salim the gratifying intelligence that, in
consequence of a rumour of his decease, his worthy brother, Ali bin
Salim, had somewhat prematurely laid violent hands upon his goods and
chattels.

The porters would have halted on the next day, but the excited Said
exerted himself manfully; at 2 P.M. we were once more on the road.
Descending from the village-eminence, we crossed in a blazing sun the
fetid Ruhembe; and, after finding with some difficulty the jungly path,
we struck into a pleasant forest, like that traversed on the last march.
It was cut by water-courses draining south, and at these places it was
necessary to dismount. At 6 P.M. appeared a clearing, with sundry
villages and clumps of the Mgude tree, whose tufty summits of the
brightest green, gilt by the last rays of the sun, formed a lovely
picture. The porters would have rested at this spot, but they were
forced forwards by the sons of Ramji. Presently we emerged upon the
southern extremity of the Makata Plain, a hideous low level of black
vegetable earth, peaty in appearance, and, bearing long puddles of dark
scummy and stagnant rain-water, mere horse-ponds, with the additional
qualities of miasma and mosquitos. The sons of Ramji had determined to
reach the Makata Nullah, still distant about two hours. I called a halt
in favour of the fatigued Pagazi, who heard it with pleasure, and sent
to recall Wulaydi, Shehe, and Nasibu, who were acting bell-wethers. The
worthies returned after a time, and revenged themselves by parading,
with many grimaces, up and down the camp.

On the morning of the 24th of December, we resumed the transit of the
Makata Plain, and crossed the tail of its nullah. It was here bone-dry;
consequently, had we made it last night, the thirsty caravan would have
suffered severely. Ensued a long slope garnished with the normal thin
forest; in two places the plots of ashes, which denote the deaths of
wizard and witch, apprised us that we were fast approaching benighted
K’hutu. A skeleton caravan of touters, composed of six muskets and two
flags, met us on the way. Presently we descended into the basin of
Kikoboga, which was occupied in force by gentry of the same description.
After wading four times the black, muddy, and rushy nullah, which
bisects the lake, we crossed a lateral band of rough high ground, whence
a further counter-slope bent down to a Khambi in a diminutive hollow,
called Mwimbi. It was the ideal of a bad encamping ground. The kraal
stood on the bank of a dark, miry water at the head of a narrow gap,
where heat was concentrated by the funnel-shaped hill-sides, and where
the dark ground, strewed with rotting grass and leaves, harboured hosts
of cock-roaches, beetles, and mosquitos. The supplies, a little grain,
poor sugar-cane, good wild vegetables, at times plantains, were distant,
and the water was vile. Throughout this country, however, the Wasagara
cultivators, fearing plunder should a caravan encamp near their crops,
muster in force; the traveller, therefore, must not unpack except at the
kraals on either edge of the cultivation.

The dawn of Christmas Day, 1858, saw us toiling along the Kikoboga
River, which we forded four times. We then crossed two deep affluents,
whose banks were thick with fruitless plantains. The road presently
turned up a rough rise, from whose crest began the descent of the
Mabruki Pass. This col may be divided into two steps: the first winds
along a sharp ridge-line, a chain of well-forested hills, whose heights,
bordered on both sides by precipitous slopes of earth overgrown with
thorns and thick bamboo-clumps, command an extensive view of spur and
subrange, of dhun and champaign, sprinkled with villages and dwarf
cones, and watered by streamlets that glisten like lines of quicksilver
in the blue-brown of the hazy distant landscape. Ensues, after a
succession of deep and rugged watercourses, with difficult slopes, the
second step; a short but sharp steep of red earth, corded with the
tree-roots that have been bared by the heavy rains. Beyond this the
path, spanning rough ground at the hill-base, debouches upon the course
of a streamlet flowing southwards from the last heights of Usagara to
the plains of Uziraha in K’hutu.

The bullock reserved for the occasion having been lost in Uhehe, I had
ordered the purchase of half a dozen goats wherewith to celebrate the
day; the porters, however, were too lazy to collect them. My companion
and I made good cheer upon a fat capon, which acted as roast-beef, and a
mess of ground-nuts sweetened with sugar-cane, which did duty as
plum-pudding. The contrast of what was with what might be now, however,
suggested only pleasurable sensations; long odds were in favour of our
seeing the Christmas Day of 1859, compared with the chances of things at
Msene on the Christmas Day of 1857.

From Uziraha sixteen hours distributed into fourteen marches conducted
us from Uziraha, at the foot of the Usagara mountains, to Central
Zungomero. The districts traversed were Eastern Mbwiga, Marundwe, and
Kirengwe. The road again realises the European idea of Africa in its
most hideous and grotesque aspect. Animals are scarce amidst the
portentous growth of herbage, not a head of black cattle is seen, flocks
and poultry are rare, and even the beasts of the field seem to flee the
land. The people admitted us into their villages, whose wretched
straw-hovels, contrasting with the luxuriant jungle which hems them in,
look like birds’ nests torn from the trees: all the best settlements,
however, were occupied by parties of touters. At the sight of our
passing caravan the goatherd hurried off his charge, the peasant
prepared to rush into the grass, the women and children slunk and hid
within the hut, and no one ever left his home without a bow and a sheath
of arrows, whose pitchy-coloured bark-necks denoted a fresh layer of
poison.

We entered Zungomero on the 29th of December, after sighting on the left
the cone at whose base rises the Maji ya W’heta, or Fontaine qui
bouille. The village on the left bank of the Mgeta, which we had
occupied about eighteen months before, had long been level with the
ground; we were therefore conducted with due ceremony into another
settlement on the right of the stream. An army of black musketeers, in
scanty but various and gaudy attire, came out to meet us, and with the
usual shots and shouts conducted us to the headman’s house, which had
already been turned into a kind of barrack by these irregulars. They
then stared as usual for half-a-dozen consecutive hours, which done they
retired to rest.

After a day’s repose, sending for the Kirangozi, and personally offering
a liberal reward, I opened to him the subject then nearest my heart,
namely, a march upon Kilwa. This proceeding probably irritated the too
susceptible Said bin Salim, and caused him, if not actually to
interfere, at any rate to withhold all aid towards furthering the
project. Twanigana, after a palaver with his people, returned with a
reply that he himself was willing, but that his men would not leave the
direct track. Their reasons were various. Some had become brothers with
the sons of Ramji, and expected employment from their “father.” Others
declared that it would be necessary to march a few miles back, which was
contrary to their custom, and said that they ought to have been warned
of the intention before passing the Makutaniro, or junction of the two
roads. But none expressed any fear, as has since been asserted, of being
sold off into slavery at Kilwa. Such a declaration would have been
ridiculous. Of the many Wanyamwezi caravans that have visited Kilwa none
has ever yet been seized and sold; the coast-people are too well
acquainted with their own interests to secure for themselves a permanent
bad name. Seeing, however, that energetic measures were necessary to
open the road, I allowed them two days for consideration, and warned
them that after that time Posho or rations should be withdrawn.

On the next day I was privately informed by the Mnfumo or parson of the
caravan, that his comrades intended to make a feint of desertion, and
then to return, if they found us resolved not to follow them. The
reverend gentleman’s sister-in-law, who had accompanied us from
Unyamwezi as cook and concubine to Seedy Bombay, persuaded our managing
man that there was no danger of the porters traversing Uzaramo, without
pay, escort, or provisions. On the 1st January, 1859, however, the gang
rose to depart. I sent for the Kirangozi, who declared that though loth
to leave us he must head his men: in return for which semi-fidelity I
made him name his own reward; he asked two handsome cloths, a Gorah or
piece of domestics, and one Fundo of coral beads--it was double his pay,
but I willingly gave it, and directed Said bin Salim to write an order
to that effect upon Mr. Rush Ramji, or any other Hindu who might happen
to be at Kaole. But I rejected the suggestion of my companion, who
proposed that half the sum agreed upon in Unyanyembe as payment to the
porters--nine cloths each--should be given to them. In the first place,
this donation would have been equivalent to a final dismissal. Secondly,
the Arabs at Kazeh had warned me that it was not their custom to pay in
part those who will not complete the journey to the coast; and I could
see no reason for departing from a commercial precedent, evidently
necessary to curb the Africans’ alacrity in desertion.

On the day following the departure of the gang I set out to visit the
Jetting Spring, and found when returning to the village shortly before
noon that my companion had sent a man to recal the “Pagazi,” who were
said to be encamped close to the river, and to propose to them a march
upon Mbuamaji. The messenger returned and reported that the Wanyamwezi
had already crossed the river. Unwilling that the wretches should lose
by their headstrongness, I at once ordered Said bin Salim to mount ass
and to bring back the porters by offers which they would have accepted.
Some time afterwards, when I fancied that he was probably haranguing the
men, he came to me to say that he had not eaten and the sun was hot.
With the view of shaming him I directed Kidogo to do the work, but as he
also made excuses, Khamisi and Shehe, two sons of Ramji, were despatched
with cloths to buy rations for the Pagazi, and, _coûte que coûte_, to
bring them back. They set out on the 2nd January, and returned on the
7th January, never having, according to their own account, seen the
fugitives.

This was a regrettable occurrence: it gave a handle to private malice
under the specious semblance of public duty. But such events are common
on the slave-path in Eastern Africa; of the seven gangs of porters
engaged on this journey only one, an unusually small proportion, left me
without being fully satisfied, and that one deserved to be disappointed.

We were detained at K’hutu till the 20th January. The airiest of schemes
were ventilated by Said bin Salim and my companion. Three of the Baloch
eye-sores, the “Graybeard Mohammed,” the mischief-maker Khudabakhsh, and
the mulatto Jelai, were sent to the coast with letters, reports, and
officials for Zanzibar and home. The projectors then attempted to engage
Wak’hutu porters, but after a long palaver, P’hazi Madenge, the
principal chief of Uziraha, who at first undertook to transport us in
person to Dut’humi, declared that he could not assist us. It was then
proposed to trust for porterage to the Wazaramo; that project also
necessarily fell to the ground. Two feasible plans remained: either to
write to the coast for a new gang, or to await the transit of some
down-caravan. As the former would have caused an inevitable delay I
preferred the latter, justly thinking that during this, the
travelling-season, we should not long be detained.

On the 11th January, 1859, a large party of Wanyanwezi, journeying from
the interior to the coast, bivouacked in the village. I easily persuaded
Muhembe, the Mtongi or leader, to make over to me the services of nine
of his men, and lest the African mind might conceive that in dismissing
the last gang cloth or beads had been an object, I issued to these new
porters seventy-two cloths, as much as if they had carried packs from
Unyanwezi to the coast. On the 14th January, 1859, we received Mr.
Apothecary Frost’s letters, drugs, and medical comforts, for which we
had written to him in July 1857. The next day saw us fording the warm
muddy waters of the Mgeta, which was then 100 feet broad: usually
knee-deep, it rises after a few showers to the breast, and during the
heavy rains which had lately fallen it was impassable. We found a little
village on the left bank, and there we sat down patiently to await,
despite the trouble inflicted by a host of diminutive ants, who knew no
rest by day or night, the arrival of another caravan to complete our
gang. The medical comforts so tardily received from Zanzibar fortified
us, however, to some extent against enemies and inconveniences; we had
æther-sherbet and æther-lemonade, formed by combining a wine-glass of
the spirit with a _quant. suff._ of citric acid; and when we wanted a
change the villagers supplied an abundance of Pombe or small beer.

On the 17th Jan. a numerous down-caravan entered the settlement which we
occupied, and it proved after inquiry to be one of which I had heard
often and much. The chiefs, Sulayman bin Rashid el Riami, a coast-Arab,
accompanied by a Msawahili, Mohammed bin Gharib, and others, called upon
me without delay, and from them I obtained a detailed account of their
interesting travel.

The merchants had left the coast for Ubena in June, 1857, and their
up-march had lasted six months. They set out with a total of 600 free
men and slaves, armed with 150 guns, hired on the seaboard for eight to
ten dollars per head, half being advanced: they could not persuade the
Wanyamwezi to traverse these regions. The caravan followed the Mbuamaji
trunk-road westward as far as Maroro in Usagara, thence deflecting
southwards it crossed the Rwaha River, which at the ford was knee-deep.
The party travelled through the Wahehe and the Wafaji, south of and far
from the stream, to avoid the Warori, who hold both banks. The sultan of
these freebooters, being at war with the Wabena, would not have
permitted merchants to pass on to his enemies, and even in time of peace
he fines them, it is said, one half of their property for safe-conduct.
On the right hand of the caravan, or to the south from Uhehe to Ubena,
was a continuous chain of highlands, pouring affluents across the road
into the Rwaha River, and water was procurable only in the beds of these
nullahs and fiumaras. If this chain be of any considerable length, it
may represent the water-parting between the Tanganyika and the Nyassa
Lakes, and thus divide by another and a southerly lateral band the great
Depression of Central Africa. The land was dry and barren; in fact,
Ugogo without its calabashes. Scarcely a blade of grass appeared upon
the whity-brown soil, and the travellers marvelled how the numerous
herds obtained their sustenance. The masika or rainy monsoon began
synchronously with that of Unyamwezi, but it lasted little more than
half its period in the north. In the sparse cultivation, surrounded by
dense bush, they were rarely able to ration oftener than once a week.
They were hospitably received by Kimanu, the Jyari or Sultan of Ubena.
His people, though fierce and savage, appeared pleased by the sight of
strangers. The Wabena wore a profusion of beads, and resembled in dress,
diet, and lodging the Warori; they were brave to recklessness, and
strictly monarchical, swearing by their chief. The Warori, however, were
the cleaner race; they washed and bathed, whilst the Wabena used the
same fluid to purify teeth, face, and hands.

At Ubena the caravan made considerable profits in slaves and ivory. The
former, mostly captured or kidnapped, were sold for four to six fundo of
beads, and, merchants being rare, a large stock was found on hand. About
800 were purchased, as each Pagazi or porter could afford one at least.
On the return-march, however, half of the property deserted. The ivory,
which rather resembled the valuable article procured at Karagwah than
the poor produce of Unyanyembe, sold at 35 to 70 fundo of yellow and
other coloured beads per frasilah of 35 lbs. Cloth was generally
refused, and the kitindi or wire armlets were useful only in purchasing
provisions.

On its return the caravan, following for eighteen stages the right bank
of the Rwaha River, met with an unexpected misfortune. They were
nighting in a broad fiumara called Bonye, a tributary from the southern
highlands to the main artery, when suddenly a roar and rush of waters
fast approaching and the cries of men struck them with consternation. In
the confusion which ensued 150 souls, for the most part slaves, and
probably ironed or corded together, were carried away by the torrent,
and the porters lost a great part of the ivory. A more dangerous place
for encampment can scarcely be imagined, yet the East African everywhere
prefers it because it is warm at night, and the surface is soft. In the
neighbourhood of the Rwaha they entered the capital district of Mui’
Gumbi, the chief, after a rude reception on the frontier, where the
people, mistaking them for a plundering party of Wabena, gathered in
arms to the number of 4000. When the error was perceived, the Warori
warmly welcomed the traders, calling them brothers, and led them to the
quarters of their Sultan. Mui’ Gumbi was apparently in his 70th year, a
man of venerable look, tall, burly, and light-coloured, with large ears,
and a hooked nose like a “moghrebi.” His sons, about thirty in number,
all resembled him, their comeliness contrasting strongly with the common
clansmen, who are considered by their chiefs as slaves. A tradition
derives the origin of this royal race from Madagascar or one of its
adjoining islets. Mui’ Gumbi wore a profusion of beads, many of them
antiquated in form and colour, and now unknown in the market of
Zanzibar: above his left elbow he had a lumpy bracelet of ivory, a
decoration appropriated to chieftains. The Warori expressed their
surprise that the country had not been lately visited by caravans, and,
to encourage others, the Sultan offered large gangs of porters without
pay to his visitors. These men never desert; such disobedience would
cost them their lives. From the settlement of Mui’ Gumbi to the coast
the caravan travelled without accident, but under great hardships,
living on roots and grasses for want of means to buy provisions.

The same caravan-traders showed me divers specimens of the Warori, and
gave me the following description, which tallied with the details
supplied by Snay bin Amin and the Arabs of Kazeh.

The Warori extend from the western frontier of the Wahehe, about forty
marches along principally the northern bank of the Rwaha River, to the
meridian of Eastern Unyanyembe. They are a semi-pastoral tribe,
continually at war with their neighbours. They never sell their own
people, but attack the Wabena, the Wakimbu, the Wahehe, the Wakonongo,
and the races about Unyangwira, and drive their captives to the sea, or
dispose of them to the slavers in Usagara. The price is of course cheap;
a male adult is worth from two to six shukkah merkani. Some years ago a
large plundering party, under their chief Mbangera, attacked Sultan
Kalala of the Wasukuma; they were, however, defeated, with the loss of
their leader, by Kafrira of Kivira, the son-in-law of Kalala. They also
ravaged Unyanyembe, and compelled the people to take refuge on the
summit of a natural rock-fortress between Kazeh and Yombo, and they have
more than once menaced the dominions of Fundikira. Those mighty boasters
the Wagogo hold the Warori in awe; as the Arabs say, they shrink small
as a cubit before foes fiercer than themselves. The Warori have wasted
the lands of Uhehe and Unyangwira, and have dispersed the Wakimbu and
the Wamia tribes. They have closed the main-road from the seaboard by
exorbitant blackmail and charges for water, and about five years ago
they murdered two coast Arab traders from Mbuamaji. Since their late
defeat by the Watuta, they have been comparatively quiet. When the E.
African Expedition, however, entered the country they had just
distinguished themselves by driving the herds from Ugogi, and thus
prevented any entrance into their country from that district. Like the
pastoral races generally of this portion of the peninsula, the object
of their raids is cattle: when a herd falls into their hands, they fly
at the beasts like hyænas, pierce them with their assegais, hack off
huge slices, and devour the meat raw.

The Warori are small and shrivelled black savages. Their diminutive size
is doubtless the effect of scanty food, continued through many
generations: the Sultans, however, are a peculiarly fine large race of
men. The slave-specimens observed had no distinguishing mark on the
teeth; in all cases, however, two short lines were tattooed across the
hollow of the temples. The male dress is a cloak of strung beads,
weighing ten or twelve pounds, and covering the shoulders like a
European cape. Some wind a large girdle of the same material round the
waist. The women wear a bead-kilt extending to the knees, or, if unable
to afford it, a wrapper of skin. The favourite weapon is a light, thin,
and pliable assegai; they carry a sheath of about a dozen, and throw
them with great force and accuracy. The bow is unknown. They usually
press to close quarters, each man armed with a long heavy spear. Iron is
procured in considerable quantities both in Ubena and Urori. The
habitations are said to be large Tembe, capable of containing 400 to 500
souls. The principal articles of diet are milk, meat, and especially
fattened dog’s flesh--of which the chiefs are inordinately fond,--maize,
holcus, and millet. Rice is not grown in these arid districts. They
manage their intoxication by means of pombe made of grain and the bhang,
which is smoked in gourd-pipes; they also mix the cannabis with their
vegetable food. The Warori are celebrated for power of abstinence; they
will march, it is said, six days without eating, and they require to
drink but once in the twenty-four hours. In one point they resemble the
Bedouins of Arabia: the chief will entertain his guests hospitably as
long as they remain in his village, but he will plunder them the moment
they leave it.

On the 19th January the expected down-caravan of Wanyamwezi arrived, and
I found no difficulty in completing our carriage--a fair proof, be it
remarked, that I had not lost the confidence of the people. The Mtongi,
however, was, or perhaps pretended to be, ill; we were, therefore,
delayed for another day in a place which had no charms for us.

The 21st January enabled us to bid adieu to Zungomero and merrily to
take the footpath way. We made Konduchi on the 3rd February, after
twelve marches, which were accomplished in fifteen days. There was
little of interest or adventure in this return-line, of which the nine
first stations had already been visited and described. As the Yegea mud,
near Dut’humi, was throat-deep, we crossed it lower down: it was still a
weary trudge of several miles through thick slabby mire, which admitted
a man to his knees. In places, after toiling under a sickly sun, we
crept under the tunnels of thick jungle-growth veiling the Mgazi and
other streams; the dank and fetid cold caused a deadly sensation of
faintness, which was only relieved by a glass of æther-sherbet, a pipe
or two of the strongest tobacco, and half an hour’s repose. By degrees
it was found necessary to abandon the greater part of the remaining
outfit and the luggage: the Wanyamwezi, as they neared their
destination, became even less manageable than before, and the sons of
Ramji now seemed to consider their toils at an end. On the 25th January
we forded the cold, strong, yellow stream of the Mgeta, whose sandy bed
had engulfed my elephant-gun, and we entered with steady hearts the
formerly dreaded Uzaramo. The 27th January saw us pass safely by the
village where M. Maizan came to an untimely end. On that day Ramazan and
Salman, children of Said bin Salim, returned from Zanzibar Island,
bringing letters, clothing, and provisions for their master, who, by way
of small revenge, had despatched them secretly from Zungomero. On the
28th January we reached the Makutaniro or anastomosis of the Kaole and
Mbuamaji roads, where on our ingress the Wazaramo had barred passage in
force. No one now ventured to dispute the way with well-armed paupers.
That evening, however, the Mtongi indulged his men with “maneno,” a
harangue. Reports about fatal skirmishes between the Wazaramo and a
caravan of Wanyamwezi that had preceded us had flown about the camp;
consequently the Mtongi recommended prudence. “There would be danger
to-morrow--a place of ambuscade--the porters must not rise and be off
too early nor too late--they must not hasten on, nor lag behind--they
had with them Wazungu, and in case of accidents they would lose their
name!” The last sentence was frequently repeated with ever increasing
emphasis, and each period of the discourse was marked by a general
murmur, denoting attention.

As I have said, there was no danger. Yet on the next day a report arose
that we were to be attacked in a dense thicket--where no archer, be it
observed, could bend his bow--a little beyond the junction of the
Mbuamaji road with that of Konduchi, our destination. In the afternoon
Said bin Salim, with important countenance, entered my tent and
disclosed to me the doleful tidings. The road was cut off. He knew it. A
great friend of his--a slave--had told him so. He remembered warning me
that such was the case five days ago. I must either delay till an escort
could be summoned from the coast, or--I must fee a chief to precede me
and to reason with the enemy. It was in vain to storm, I feared that
real obstacles might be placed by the timid and wily little man in our
way, and I consented most unwillingly to pay two coloured cloths, and
one ditto of blue-cotton, as hire to guard that appeared in the shape of
four clothless varlets, that left us after the first quarter of an hour.
The Baloch, headed by the Jemadar, knowing that all was safe,
distinguished themselves on that night, for the first time in eighteen
months, by uttering the shouts which prove that the Oriental soldier is
doing “Zam,” _i.e._ is on the _qui vive_. When requested not to make so
much noise they grumbled that it was for our sake, not for theirs.

On the 30th January our natives of Zanzibar screamed with delight at the
sight of the mango-tree, and pointed out to one another, as they
appeared in succession, the old familiar fruits, jacks and pine-apples,
limes and cocoes. On the 2nd February we greeted, with doffed caps and
with three times three and one more, as Britons will do on such
occasions, the kindly smiling face of our father Neptune as he lay
basking in the sunbeams between earth and air. Finally, the 3rd February
1859 saw us winding through the poles decorated with skulls--they now
grin in the Royal College of Surgeons, London--a negro Temple-bar which
pointed out the way into the little maritime village of Konduchi.

Our entrance was attended with the usual ceremony, now familiar to the
reader: the warmen danced, shot, and shouted, a rabble of adults,
youths, and boys crowded upon us, the fair sex lulliloo’d with vigour,
and a general procession conducted their strangers to the hut swept,
cleaned, and garnished for us by old Premji, the principal Banyan of the
head-quarter village, and there stared and laughed till they could stare
and laugh no more.

On the evening of the same day an opportunity offered of transferring
the Jemadar, the Baloch, and my _bête noire_, Kidogo, to their homes in
Zanzibar Island, which lies within sight of Konduchi: as may be
imagined, I readily availed myself of it. After begging powder and _et
cæteras_ to the last, the monocular insisted upon kissing my hand, and
departed weeping bitterly with the agony of parting. By the same boat I
sent a few lines to H. M. consul, Zanzibar, enclosing a list of
necessaries, and requesting that a Battela, or coasting-craft, might be
hired, provisioned, and despatched without delay, as I purposed to
explore the Delta and the unknown course of the Rufiji River. In due
time Said bin Salim and his “children,” including the fair Halimah and
Zawada--the latter was liberally rewarded by me for services rendered to
my companion--and shortly afterwards the sons of Ramji, or rather the
few who had not deserted or lagged behind, were returned to their
master, and were, I doubt not, received with all the kindness which
their bad conduct deserved.

We were detained at Konduchi for six days between the 3rd and 10th
February. There is nothing interesting in this little African village
port: instead of describing it, I will enter into a few details
concerning African matters of more general importance.

[Illustration: The Ivory Porter, the Cloth Porter, and Woman, in
Usagara.]




CHAP. XVIII.

VILLAGE LIFE IN EAST AFRICA.


The assertion may startle the reader’s preconceived opinions concerning
the savage state of Central Africa and the wretched condition of the
slave races, negroid and negro; but is not less true that the African is
in these regions superior in comforts, better dressed, fed, and lodged,
and less worked than the unhappy Ryot of British India. His condition,
where the slave trade is slack, may, indeed, be compared advantageously
with that of the peasantry in some of the richest of European
countries.

[Illustration: THE BASIN OF KISANGA.]

The African rises with the dawn from his couch of cow’s hide. The hut is
cool and comfortable during the day, but the barred door impeding
ventilation at night causes it to be close and disagreeable. The hour
before sunrise being the coldest time, he usually kindles a fire, and
addresses himself to his constant companion, the pipe. When the sun
becomes sufficiently powerful, he removes the reed-screen from the
entrance, and issues forth to bask in the morning-beams. The villages
are populous, and the houses touching one another enable the occupants,
when squatting outside and fronting the central square, to chat and
chatter without moving. About 7 A.M., when the dew has partially
disappeared from the grass, the elder boys drive the flocks and herds to
pasture with loud shouts and sounding applications of the quarter-staff.
They return only when the sun is sinking behind the western horizon. At
8 P.M. those who have provisions at home enter the hut to refection with
ugali or holcus-porridge; those who have not, join a friend. Pombe, when
procurable, is drunk from the earliest dawn.

After breaking his fast the African repairs, pipe in hand, to the
Iwánzá--the village “public,” previously described. Here, in the society
of his own sex, he will spend the greater part of the day, talking and
laughing, smoking, or torpid with sleep. Occasionally he sits down to
play. As with barbarians generally, gambling in him is a passion. The
normal game is our “heads and tails,” its implement a flat stone, a
rough circle of tin, or the bottom of a broken pot. The more civilised
have learned the “bao” of the coast, a kind of “tables,” with counters
and cups hollowed in a solid plank. Many of the Wanyamwezi have been
compelled by this indulgence to sell themselves into slavery: after
playing through their property, they even stake their aged mothers
against the equivalent of an old lady in these lands,--a cow or a pair
of goats. As may be imagined, squabbles are perpetual; they are almost
always, however, settled amongst fellow-villagers with bloodless
weapons. Others, instead of gambling, seek some employment which,
working the hands and leaving the rest of the body and the mind at ease,
is ever a favourite with the Asiatic and the African; they whittle wood,
pierce and wire their pipe-sticks--an art in which all are adepts--shave
one another’s heads, pluck out their beards, eyebrows, and eyelashes,
and prepare and polish their weapons.

At about 1 P.M. the African, unless otherwise employed, returns to his
hut to eat the most substantial and the last meal of the day, which has
been cooked by his women. Eminently gregarious, however, he often
prefers the Iwánzá as a dining-room, where his male children, relatives,
and friends meet during the most important hour of the twenty-four. With
the savage and the barbarian food is the all-in-all of life:--food is
his thought by day,--food is his dream by night. The civilised European,
who never knows hunger or thirst without the instant means of gratifying
every whim of appetite, can hardly conceive the extent to which his wild
brother’s soul is swayed by stomach; he can scarcely comprehend the
state of mental absorption in which the ravenous human animal broods
over the carcase of an old goat, the delight which he takes in
superintending every part of the cooking process, and the jealous eye
with which he regards all who live better than himself.

The principal articles of diet are fish and flesh, grain and vegetables;
the luxuries are milk and butter, honey, and a few fruits, as bananas
and Guinea-palm dates; and the inebrients are pombe or millet-beer,
toddy, and mawa or plantain-wine.

Fish is found in the lakes and in the many rivers of this well-watered
land; it is despised by those who can afford flesh, but it is a
“godsend” to travellers, to slaves, and to the poor. Meat is the diet
most prized; it is, however, a luxury beyond the reach of peasantry,
except when they can pick up the orts of the chiefs. The Arabs assert
that in these latitudes vegetables cause heartburn and acidity, and that
animal food is the most digestible. The Africans seem to have made the
same discovery: a man who can afford it almost confines himself to
flesh, and he considers fat the essential element of good living. The
crave for meat is satisfied by eating almost every description of living
thing, clean or unclean; as a rule, however, the East African prefers
beef, which strangers find flatulent and heating. Like most people, they
reject game when they can command the flesh of tame beasts. Next to the
bullock the goat is preferred in the interior; as indeed it is by the
Arabs of Zanzibar Island; whereas those of Oman and of Western Arabia
abandon it to the Bedouins. In this part of Africa the cheapest and
vilest meat is mutton, and its appearance--pale, soft, and
braxy--justifies the prejudice against it. Of late years it has become
the fashion to eat poultry and pigeons; eggs, however, are still
avoided. In the absence of history and tradition, it is difficult to
decide whether this aversion to eggs arises from an imported or an
indigenous prejudice. The mundane egg of Hindoo mythology probably
typified the physiological dogma “omne vivum ex ovo,” and the mystic
disciples would avoid it as representing the principle of life. In
remote ages the prejudice may have extended to Africa, although the idea
which gave birth to it was not familiar to the African mind. Of wild
flesh, the favourite is that of the zebra; it is smoked or jerked,
despite which it retains a most savoury flavour. Of the antelopes a few
are deliciously tender and succulent; the greater part are black,
coarse, and indigestible. One of the inducements for an African to
travel is to afford himself more meat than at home. His fondness for the
article conquers at times even his habitual improvidence. He preserves
it by placing large lumps upon a little platform of green reeds, erected
upon uprights about eighteen inches high, and by smoking it with a slow
fire. Thus prepared, and with the addition of a little salt, the
provision will last for several days, and the porters will not object to
increase their loads by three or four pounds of the article, disposed
upon a long stick like gigantic kababs. They also jerk their stores by
exposing the meat upon a rope, or spread upon a flat stone, for two or
three days in the sun; it loses a considerable portion of nutriment, but
it packs into a conveniently small compass. This jerked meat, when
dried, broken into small pieces, and stored in gourds or in pots full of
clarified and melted butter, forms the celebrated travelling provision
in the East called kavurmeh: it is eaten as a relish with rice and other
boiled grains. When meat is not attainable and good water is scarce, the
African severs one of the jugulars of a bullock and fastens upon it like
a leech. This custom is common in Karagwah and the other northern
kingdoms, and some tribes, like the Wanyika, near Mombasah, churn the
blood with milk.

The daily food of the poor is grain, generally holcus, maize, or bajri
(panicum); wheat is confined to the Arabs, and rice grows locally, as in
the Indian peninsula. The inner Africans, like the semi-civilised Arabs
of Zanzibar, the Wasawahili, and the Wamrima, ignore the simple art of
leavening bread by acidulated whey, sour bean-paste, and similar
contrivances universally practised in Oman. Even the rude Indian chapati
or scone is too artificial for them, and they have not learned to toast
grain. Upon journeys the African boils his holcus unhusked in an earthen
basin, drinks the water, and devours the grain, which in this state is
called masango; at home he is more particular. The holcus is either
rubbed upon a stone--the mill being wholly unknown--or pounded with a
little water in a huge wooden mortar; when reduced to a coarse powder,
it is thrown into an earthen pot containing boiling water sufficient to
be absorbed by the flour; a little salt, when procurable, is added; and
after a few stirrings with a ladle, or rather with a broad and
flat-ended stick, till thoroughly saturated, the thick mass is
transferred into a porous basket, which allows the extra moisture to
leak out. Such is the ugali, or porridge, the staff of life in East
Africa.

During the rains vegetables are common in the more fertile parts of East
Africa; they are within reach of the poorest cultivator. Some varieties,
especially the sweet potato and the mushroom, are sliced and sun-dried
to preserve them through the year. During the barren summer they are
boiled into a kind of broth.

Milk is held in high esteem by all tribes, and some live upon it almost
exclusively during the rains, when cattle find plentiful pasture. It is
consumed in three forms--“mabichi,” when drunk fresh; or converted into
mabivu (butter-milk), the rubb of Arabs; or in the shape of mtindi
(curded milk), the laban of Arabia, and the Indian dahi. These Africans
ignore the dudh-pinda, or ball of fresh-milk boiled down to hardness by
evaporation of the serum, as practised by the Indian halwaí
(confectioner); the indurated sour-clot of Arabia, called by the
Bedouins el igt, and by the Persians the Baloch, and the Sindhians
kurut, is also unknown; and they consider cheese a miracle, and use
against it their stock denunciation, the danger of bewitching cattle.
The fresh produce, moreover, has few charms as a poculent amongst
barbarous and milk-drinking races: the Arabs and the Portuguese in
Africa avoid it after the sun is high, believing it to increase bile,
and eventually to cause fever: it is certain that, however pleasant the
draught may be in the cool of the morning, it is by no means so much
relished during the heat of the day. On the other hand, the curded milk
is everywhere a favourite on account of its cooling and thirst-quenching
properties, and the people accustomed to it from infancy have for it an
excessive longing. It is procurable in every village where cows are
kept, whereas that newly-drawn is generally half-soured from being at
once stored in the earthen pots used for curding it. These East Africans
do not, however, make their dahi, like the Somal, in lumps floating upon
the tartest possible serum; nor do they turn it, like the Arabs, with
kid’s rennet, nor like the Baloch with the solanaceous plant called
panir. The best is made, as in India, by allowing the milk to stand till
it clots in a pot used for the purpose, and frequently smoked for
purity. Butter-milk is procurable only in those parts of the country
where the people have an abundance of cattle.

Butter is made by filling a large gourd, which acts as churn, with
partially-soured milk, which is shaken to and fro: it is a poor article,
thin, colourless, and tainted by being stored for two or three months,
without preliminary washing, in the bark-boxes called vilindo. In the
Eastern regions it is converted into ghee by simply melting over the
fire: it is not boiled to expel the remnant of sour milk, impurities are
not removed by skimming, and finally it becomes rancid and bitter by
storing in pots and gourds which have been used for the purpose during
half a generation. The Arabs attempt to do away with the nauseous taste
by throwing into it when boiling a little water, with a handful of flour
or of unpowdered rice. Westward of Unyamwezi butter is burned instead of
oil in lamps.

The common oil in East Africa is that of the karanga, bhuiphali, or
ground-nut (Arachis hypogæa): when ghee is not procurable, the Arabs eat
it, like cocoa-nut oil, with beans, manioc, sweet-potato and other
vegetables. A superior kind of cooking is the “uto” extracted from the
ufuta, simsim or sesamum, which grows everywhere upon the coast, and
extends far into the interior. The process of pressing is managed by
pounding the grain dry in a huge mortar; when the oil begins to appear,
a little hot water is poured in, and the mass is forcibly squeezed with
huge pestles; all that floats is then ladled out into pots and gourds.
The viscid chikichi (palm-oil) is found only in the vicinity of the
Tanganyika Lake, although the tree grows in Zanzibar and its adjacent
islets. Oil is extracted from the two varieties of the castor-plant;
and, in spite of its unsavoury smell, it is extensively used as an
unguent by the people. At Unyanyembe and other places where the cucumber
grows almost wild, the Arabs derive from its seed an admirable
salad-oil, which in flavour equals, and perhaps surpasses, the finest
produce of the olive. The latter tree is unknown in East Africa to the
Arabs, who speak of it with a religious respect, on account of the
mention made of it in the Koran.

In East Africa every man is his own maltster; and the “Iwánzá,” or
public-house of the village, is the common brewery. In some tribes,
however, fermentation is the essential occupation of the women. The
principal inebrient is a beer without hops, called pombe. This ποτος
θειος of the negro and negroid races dates from the age of Osiris: it is
the buzah of Egypt and the farther East, and the merissa of the Upper
Nile, the ξιθον and xythum of the West, and the oala or boyaloa of the
Kafirs and the South African races. The taste is somewhat like soured
wort of the smallest description, but strangers, who at first dislike it
exceedingly, are soon reconciled to it by the pleasurable sensations to
which it gives rise. Without violent action, it affects the head, and
produces an agreeable narcotism, followed by sound sleep and heaviness
in the morning--as much liked by the barbarian, to whom inebriation is a
boon, as feared by the civilised man. Being, as the Arabs say, a “cold
drink,” causing hydrocele and rheumatism, it has some of the
after-effects of gin, and the drunkard is readily recognised by his red
and bleared eyes. When made thick with the grounds or sediment of grain,
it is exceedingly nutricious. Many a gallon must be drunk by the veteran
malt-worm before intoxication; and individuals of both sexes sometimes
live almost entirely upon pombe. It is usually made as follows: half of
the grain--holcus, panicum, or both mixed--intended for the brew is
buried or soaked in water till it sprouts; it is then pounded and mixed
with the other half, also reduced to flour, and sometimes with a little
honey. The compound is boiled twice or thrice in huge pots, strained,
when wanted clear, through a bag of matting, and allowed to ferment:
after the third day it becomes as sour as vinegar. The “togwa” is a
favourite drink, also made of holcus. At first it is thick and sickly,
like honeyed gruel; when sour it becomes exceedingly heady. As these
liquors consume a quantity of grain, they are ever expensive; the large
gourdful never fetches less than two khete or strings of beads, and
strangers must often pay ten khete for the luxury. Some years ago an
Arab taught the Wanyamwezi to distil: they soon, however, returned to
their favourite fermentation.

The use of pombe is general throughout the country: the other inebrients
are local. At the island and on the coast of Zanzibar tembo, or toddy,
in the West African dialects tombo, is drawn from the cocoa-tree; and in
places a pernicious alcohol, called mvinyo, is extracted from it. The
Wajiji and other races upon the Tanganyika Lake tap the Guinea-palm for
a toddy, which, drawn in unclean pots, soon becomes acid and acrid as
the Silesian wine that serves to mend the broken limbs of the poor. The
use of bhang and datura-seed has already been alluded to. “Máwá,” or
plantain-wine, is highly prized because it readily intoxicates. The
fruit when ripe is peeled and hand-kneaded with coarse green grass, in a
wide-mouthed earthen pot, till all the juice is extracted: the sweet
must is then strained through a _cornet_ of plantain-leaf into a clean
gourd, which is but partially stopped. To hasten fermentation a handful
of toasted or pounded grain is added: after standing for two days in a
warm room the wine is ready for drinking.

The East Africans ignore the sparkling berille or hydromel of Abyssinia
and Harar, and the mead of the Bushman race. Yet honey abounds
throughout the country, and near the villages log-hives, which from
their shape are called mazinga or cannons by the people, hang from every
tall and shady tree. Bees also swarm in the jungles, performing an
important part in the vegetable economy by masculation or
caprification, and the conveyance of pollen. Their produce is of two
kinds. The cheaper resembles wasp-honey in Europe; it is found in the
forest, and stored in gourds. More than half-filled with dirt and
wood-bark, it affords but little wax; the liquid is thin and watery, and
it has a peculiarly unpleasant flavour. The better variety, the
hive-honey, is as superior to the produce of the jungle as it is
inferior to that of India and of more civilised lands. It is tolerable
until kept too long, and it supplies a good yellow wax, used by the
Arabs to mix with tallow in the manufacture of “dips.” The best honey is
sold after the rains; but the African hoards his store till it reddens,
showing the first stage of fermentation: he will eat it after the second
or third year, when it thins, froths, and becomes a rufous-brown fluid
of unsavoury taste; and he rarely takes the trouble to remove the comb,
though the Arabs set him the example of straining the honey through bags
of plantain-straw or matting. Decomposition, moreover, is assisted by
softening the honey over the fire to extract the wax instead of placing
it in the sun. The price varies from one to three cloths for a large
gourdful. When cheap, the Arabs make from it “honey-sugar:” the
material, after being strained and cleaned, is stored for two or three
weeks in a cool place till surface-granulation takes place; the produce
resembles in taste and appearance coarse brown sugar. The “siki,” a
vinegar of the country, is also made of one part honey and four of
water, left for a fortnight to acetise: it is weak and insipid. Honey is
the only sweetener in the country, except in the places where the
sugar-cane grows, namely, the maritime and the Lakist regions. The
people chew it, ignoring the simple art of extracting and inspissating
the juice; nor do they, like the natives of Usumbara, convert it into an
inebrient. Yet sugar attracts them like flies; they clap their hands
with delight at the taste; they buy it for its weight of ivory; and if a
thimbleful of the powder happen to fall upon the ground, they will eat
an ounce of earth rather than lose a grain of it.

After eating, the East African invariably indulges in a long fit of
torpidity, from which he awakes to pass the afternoon as he did the
forenoon, chatting, playing, smoking, and chewing “sweet-earth.” Towards
sunset all issue forth to enjoy the coolness: the men sit outside the
Iwánzá, whilst the women and the girls, after fetching water for
household wants from the well, collecting in a group upon their little
stools, indulge in the pleasures of gossipred and the pipe. This hour in
the more favoured parts of the country is replete with enjoyment, which
even the barbarian feels, though not yet indoctrinated into æsthetics.
As the hours of darkness draw nigh, the village doors are carefully
closed, and, after milking his cows, each peasant retires to his hut, or
passes his time squatting round the fire with his friends in the Iwánzá.
He has not yet learned the art of making a wick, and of filling a bit of
pottery with oil. When a light is wanted, he ignites a stick of the
oleaginous mtata, or msásá-tree--a yellow, hard, close-grained, and
elastic wood, with few knots, much used in making spears, bows, and
walking staves--which burns for a quarter of an hour with a brilliant
flame. He repairs to his hard couch before midnight, and snores with a
single sleep till dawn. For thorough enjoyment, night must be spent in
insensibility, as day is in inebriety; and, though an early riser, he
avoids the “early to bed,” in order that he may be able to slumber
through half the day.

It is evident that these barbarians lead rather a “fast” life; there
are, however, two points that modify its evil consequences. The “damned
distillation” is unknown, consequently they do not suffer from delirium
tremens, its offspring. Their only brain-work is that necessitated by
the simple wants of life, and by the unartificial style of gambling
which they affect. Amongst the civilized, the peculiar state of the
nervous system in the individual, and in society, the abnormal
conditions induced by overcrowding in cities and towns, has engendered a
cohort of dire diseases which the children of nature ignore.

Such is the African’s idle day, and thus every summer is spent. As the
wintry rains draw nigh, the necessity of daily bread suggests itself.
The peasants then leave their huts at 6 or 7 A.M., often without
provision, which now becomes scarce, and labour till noon, or 2 P.M.,
when they return home, and find food prepared by the wife or the
slave-girl. During the afternoon they return to work, and sometimes,
when the rains are near, they are aided by the women. Towards sunset all
wend homewards in a body, laden with their implements of cultivation,
and singing a kind of “dulce domum,” in a simple and pleasing
recitative.

When the moon shines bright the spirits of the East African are raised
like the jackal’s, and a furious drumming and a droning chorus summon
the maidens to come out and enjoy the spectacle of a dance. The sexes
seldom perform together, but they have no objection to be gazed at by
each other. Their style of saltation is remarkable only for the extreme
gravity which it induces--at no other time does the East African look
so serious and so full of earnest purpose. Yet with all this
thoughtfulness, “poor human nature cannot dance of itself.” The dance
has already been described as far as possible: as may be imagined, the
African Thalia is by no means free from the reproach which caused
Mohammed to taboo her to his followers.

Music is at a low ebb. Admirable timists, and no mean tunists, the
people betray their incapacity for improvement by remaining contented
with the simplest and the most monotonous combinations of sounds. As in
everything else, so in this art, creative talent is wanting. A higher
development would have produced other results; yet it is impossible not
to remark the delight which they take in harmony. The fisherman will
accompany his paddle, the porter his trudge, and the housewife her task
of rubbing down grain, with song; and for long hours at night the
peasants will sit in a ring repeating, with a zest that never flags, the
same few notes, and the same unmeaning line. Their style is the
recitative, broken by a full chorus, and they appear to affect the major
rather than the interminable minor key of the Asiatic. Their singing
also wants the strained upper notes of the cracked-voiced Indian
performer, and it ignores the complicated raga and ragini or Hindu
modes, which appear rather the musical expression of high mathematics
than the natural language of harmony and melody.

[Illustration:

1. Paddle in East Africa.

2. The Sange or Gourd.

3. Bellows.

4. Drum.

5. Stool.

6. The Zeze (guitar).

7. The D’hete, or Kidete.]

The instruments of the East African are all of foreign invention,
imported from various regions, Madagascar, and the coast. Those
principally in use are the following. The zeze, or banjo, resembles in
sound the monochord Arabian rubabah, the rude ancestor of the Spanish
guitar. The sounding-board is a large hollow gourd, open below; on the
upper part, fastened by strings that pass through drilled holes, is a
conical piece of gourd, cleft longitudinally to admit the arm or handle,
which projects at a right angle. The arm is made of light wood, from 18
inches to 2 feet in length; the left-hand extremity has three frets
formed by two notches, with intervals, and thus the total range is of
six notes. A single string, made of “mondo,” the fibre of the mwale or
raphia-palm, is tied to a knob of wood projecting from the dexter
extremity of the handle, thence it passes over a bridge of bent quill,
which for tuning is raised or depressed, and lastly it is secured round
another knob at the end beyond the frets. Sometimes, to form a bass or
drone, a second string is similarly attached along the side of the arm,
whilst the treble runs along the top.

The kinanda, a prototype of the psaltery and harp, the lute and lyre,
and much used by the southern races in the neighbourhood of Kilwa, is of
two kinds. One is a shallow box cut out of a single plank, thirteen
inches long by five or six in breadth, and about two inches in depth:
eleven or twelve strings are drawn tightly over the hollow. The
instrument is placed in the lap, and performed upon with both hands. The
other is a small bow-guitar, with an open gourd attached to the part
about the handle: sometimes the bow passes through the gourd. This
instrument is held in the left hand, whilst the “tocador” strikes its
single cord with a thin cane-plectrum about one foot long. As in the
zeze, the gourd is often adorned with black tattoo, or bright brass
tacks, disposed in various patterns, amongst which the circle and the
crescent figure conspicuously. A third form of the kinanda appears to be
a barbarous ancestor of the Grecian lyre, which, like the modern Nubian
“kisirka,” is a lineal descendant from the Egyptian oryx-horn lute with
the transverse bar. A combination of the zeze and kinanda is made by
binding a dwarf hollow box with its numerous strings to the open top of
a large circular gourd, which then acts as a sounding-board.

The wind-instruments are equally rude, though by no means so feeble as
their rivals. The nai or sackbut of India, and the siwa, a huge bassoon
of black wood, at least five feet long, are known only to the
coast-people. The tribes of the interior use the d’hete or kidete,
called by the Wasawahili zumari. It is literally the bucolic reed, a
hollowed holcus-cane, pierced with four holes at the further end: the
mouthpiece is not stopped in any way, and the instrument is played upon
solely by the lips, a drone being sometimes supplied by the voice. Thus
simple and ineffective, it has nevertheless a familiar sound to European
ears. The barghumi is made by cutting an oblong hole, about the size of
a man’s nail, within two or three inches of the tip of a koodoo, an
oryx, or a goat’s horn, which, for effect and appearance, is sometimes
capped with a bit of cane, whence projects a long zebra’s or giraffe’s
tail. Like the det’he, it is played upon by the lips; and without any
attempt at stops or keys, four or five notes may be produced. Its sound,
heard from afar, especially in the deep silence of a tropical night,
resembles not a little the sad, sweet music of the French
_cor-de-chasse_; and when well performed upon, it might be mistaken for
a regimental bugle. There are smaller varieties of the barghumi, which
porters carry slung over the shoulder, and use as signals on the line of
march. Another curious instrument is a gourd, a few inches in
circumference, drilled with many little apertures: the breath passes
through one hole, and certain notes are produced by stopping others with
the fingers--its loud, shrill, and ear-piercing quavers faintly resemble
the European “piccolo.” The only indigenous music of the pastoral
African--the Somal, for instance--is whistling, a habit acquired in
youth when tending the flocks and herds. This “Mu’unzi” is soft and
dulcet; the ear, however, fails to detect in it either phrase or tune.
For signals the East Africans practise the kik’horombwe, or blowing
between the fore and the middle fingers with a noise like that of a
railway whistle. The Wanyamwezi also blow over the edge of the hollow in
a small antelope’s horn, or through an iron tube; and the Watuta are
said to use metal-whistles as signals in battle.

The drum is ever the favourite instrument with the African, who uses it
as the alarum of war, the promise of mirth, the token of hospitality,
and the cure of diseases: without drumming his life would indeed be a
blank. The largest variety, called “ngoma ku,” is the hollowed hole of a
mkenga or other soft tree, with a cylindrical solid projection from the
bottom, which holds it upright when planted in the ground. The
instrument is from three to five feet in length with a diameter of from
one to two feet: the outside is protected with a net-work of strong
cord. Over the head is stretched a rough parchment made of calf’s-skin;
and a cap of green hide, mounted when loose, and afterwards shrunken by
exposure to fire, protects the bottom. It is vigorously beaten with the
fists, and sometimes with coarse sticks. There are many local varieties
of this instrument, especially the timbrel or tabret, which is about a
foot long, shaped like an hour-glass or a double “darabukkah,” and
provided with a head of iguana-skin. The effect of tom-toming is also
produced by striking hollow gourds and similar articles. The only cymbal
is the upatu, a flat-bottomed brass pot turned upside down, and tapped
with a bit of wood. The “sanje,” a gourd full of pebbles, is much
affected in parts of the country by women, children, and, especially, by
the mganga or rain-maker; its use being that of the babe’s rattle
amongst Europeans.

The insipidity of the African’s day is relieved by frequent drinking
bouts, and by an occasional hunt. For the former the guests assemble at
early dawn, and take their seats in a circle, dividing into knots of
three or four to facilitate the circulation of the bowl. The mwandázi,
or cup-bearer, goes round the assembly, giving scrupulous precedence to
the chiefs and elders, who are also provided with larger vessels. The
sonzo, or drinking-cup, which also serves as a travelling canteen, is
made generally by the women, of a kind of grass called mávú, or of wild
palm-leaf: the split stalks are neatly twisted into a fine cord, which
is rolled up, beginning from the bottom, in concentric circles, each
joined to its neighbour by a binding of the same material: it is
sometimes stained and ornamented with red and black dyes. The shape when
finished is a truncated cone, somewhat like a Turk’s fez; it measures
about six inches in diameter by five in depth, and those of average size
may contain a quart. This cup passes around without delay or heel-taps,
and the topers stop occasionally to talk, laugh, and snuff, to chew
tobacco, and to smoke bhang. The scene of sensuality lasts for three or
four hours--in fact, till the pombe prepared for the occasion is
exhausted,--when the carousers, with red eyes, distorted features, and
the thickest of voices, stagger home to doze through the day. Perhaps in
no European country are so many drunken men seen abroad as in East
Africa. Women also frequently appear intoxicated; they have, however,
private “pombe,” and do not drink with the men.

The East African, who can seldom afford to gratify his longing for meat
by slaughtering a cow or a goat, looks eagerly forward to the end of the
rains, when the grass is in a fit condition for firing; then, armed with
bows and arrows, and with rungu or knobkerries, the villagers have a
battue of small antelopes, hares, and birds. During the hot season also,
when the waters dry up, they watch by night at the tanks and pools, and
they thus secure the larger kinds of game. Elephants especially are
often found dead of drought during the hot season; they are driven from
the springs which are haunted by the hunters, and, according to the
Arabs, they fear migrating to new seats where they would be attacked by
the herds in possession. In many parts the huntsmen suspend by a cord
from the trees sharpened blocks of wood, which, loosened by the animal’s
foot, fall and cause a mortal wound. This “suspended spear,” sprung by a
latch, has been described by a host of South African travellers. It has
been sketched by Lieut. Boteler (“Narrative of a Voyage of Discovery to
Africa and Arabia,” chap. iv.); and Major Monteiro (“O Muata Cazembe,”
chap. v.); and described by Mr. Galton, Mr. Gordon Cumming, and Dr.
Livingstone (chap. xxviii.). Throughout Ugogo and upon the maritime
regions large game is caught in pitfalls, here called mtego, and in
India ogi: in some places travellers run the risk of falling into these
traps. The mtego is an oblong excavation like a great grave, but
decreasing in breadth below the surface of the ground and it is always
found single, not in pairs as in South Africa. The site generally chosen
is near water, and the hole is carefully masked with thin layers of
small sticks and leaves. The Indian “surrounds” and the hopo or V-shaped
trap of the Bakwens are here unknown. The distribution of treasure-trove
would seem to argue ancient partitions and lordships, and, in dividing
the spoils of wild or tame animals, the chief claims, according to
ancient right, the breast. This custom apparently borrowed by the
Hebrews from Africa (Leviticus, chap. vii. 30, 31), is alluded to by
almost all South-African travellers.

The elephant roams in herds throughout the country, affecting the low
grounds where stagnating water produces a plentiful vegetation: with
every human being its foe, and thousands living by its destruction, the
animal is far from becoming scarce; indeed, the greatest number of
footprints appeared near Chogwe and Tongwe, stations of Baloch garrisons
close to the town of Pangani. The elephant hunt is with the African a
solemn and serious undertaking. He fortifies himself with periapts and
prophylactics given by the mganga, who also trains him to the use of his
weapon. The elephant-spear resembles our boarding-pike rather than the
light blunt arm employed in war; it is about six feet long, with a broad
tapering head cut away at the shoulders, and supported by an iron neck,
which is planted in a thick wooden handle, the junction being secured by
a cylinder of raw hide from a cow’s tail passed over it, and shrunk on
by drying: a specimen was deposited with the Royal Geographical Society.
The spear is invariably guarded by a mpigi or charm, the usual two bits
of wood bound together with a string or strip of skin. It is not a
little curious that the East African, though born and bred a hunter, is,
unlike almost all barbarians, as skill-less as an European in the art of
el asr, the “spoor” or “sign.”

The hunting-party, consisting of fifteen to twenty individuals, proceeds
before departure to sing and dance, to drink and drum for a consecutive
week. The women form line and perambulate the village, each striking an
iron jembe or hoe with a large stone, which forms an appropriate
accompaniment to the howl and the vigelegele, “lullilooing,” or trills
of joy. At every step the dancer sways herself elephant-like from side
to side, and tosses her head backwards with a violence threatening
dislocation of the atlas. The line, led by a fugle-woman by the right,
who holds two jembe in one hand, but does not drum, stops facing every
Arab house where beads may be expected, and performs the most hideous
contortions, whirling the arms round the shoulder-socket, kneeling, and
imitating the actions of various animals. The labour done, the ladies
apply to their pombe, and reappear after four or five hours with a
tell-tale stagger and a looseness of limb which adds a peculiar charm to
their gesticulations. The day concludes with a “fackeltanz” of
remarkable grotesqueness. This merrymaking is probably intended as a
consolation for the penance which the elephant-hunter’s wife performs
during the absence of her mate; she is expected to abstain from good
food, handsome cloth, and fumigation: she must not leave the house, and
for an act of infidelity the blame of failure in the hunt will fall
heavily upon her. Meanwhile the men--at least as “far gone” as the
women--encircle with a running jumping gait, and with the grace and
science of well-trained bears, a drum or a kilindo,--the normal bark
bandbox,--placed with open mouth upon the ground, and violently beaten
with sticks and fists or rubbed and scraped with stones. It forms also a
sounding-board for a kinanda or bow-guitar, one end of which is applied
to it, whilst a shrill fife of goat’s horn gives finish and completeness
to the band. Around the drum are placed several elephants’ tails,
possibly designed to serve the purpose of the clay-corpse introduced
into the feasts of ancient Egypt.

When thoroughly drenched with drink, the hunters set out early in the
morning, carrying live brands lest fire should fail them in the jungle,
and applying them to their mouths to keep out the cold air. These
trampers are sometimes dangerous to stragglers from caravans, especially
in countries where the robber or the murderer expects to escape with
impunity. In some places hunting-huts have been erected; they are,
however, seldom used when elephants are sought, as a herd once startled
does not readily return to the same pasture-grounds. The great art of
the African muinzi or elephant-hunter is to separate a tusker from the
herd without exciting suspicion, and to form a circle round the victim.
The mganga, then rising with a shout, hurls or thrusts the first spear,
and his example is followed by the rest. The weapons are not poisoned:
they are fatal by a succession of small wounds. The baited beast rarely
breaks, as might be expected, through the frail circle of assailants:
its proverbial obstinacy is excited; it charges one man, who slips away,
when another, with a scream, thrusts the long stiff spear into its hind
quarters, which makes it change intention and turn fiercely from the
fugitive to the fresh assailant. This continues till the elephant,
losing breath and heart, attempts to escape; its enemies then redouble
their efforts, and at length the huge prey, overpowered by pain and loss
of blood trickling from a hundred gashes, bites the dust. The victors,
after certain preliminaries of singing and dancing, carefully cut out
the tusks with small, sharp axes, and the rich marrow is at once picked
from the bamboo and devoured upon the spot, as the hare’s liver is in
Italy. The hunt concludes with a grand feast of fat and garbage, and the
hunters return home in triumph, laden with ivory, with ovals of hide for
shields, and with festoons of raw and odorous meat spitted upon long
poles.

Throughout East Africa the mouse, as the saying is, travels with a
staff: the education of youth and the exercises of manhood are confined
to the practice of weapons. Yet the people want the expertness of the
Somal of the North and the Kafirs of the South; their internal feuds
perpetuate the necessity of offensive measures, and of the presence of
arms, but their agricultural state, rendering them independent of the
chase, prevents their reliance upon their skill for daily food. In
consequence of being ever armed, the African like the Asiatic is nothing
without his weapons; he cannot use his strength, and when he comes to
blows he fights like a woman. Thus the habitual show of arms is a mere
substitute for courage; in dangerous countries, as in Ugogo, the
Wanyamwezi do not dare to carry them for fear of provocation, whereas at
home and in comparative safety they never appear without spear or
knobstick.

The weapons universally carried are the spear and the assegai. The bow
and arrow, the knobkerry, the dagger, and the battle-axe are confined to
certain tribes, whilst the musket and the sword are used beyond the
coast only by strangers. The shield is seldom seen.

The lance of the European, Arab, and Indian is unknown to these
unequestrian races. The bravest tribes prefer the stabbing-spear, which
brings them to close quarters with the enemy. The weapon indeed cannot
make the man, but by reaction it greatly modifies his manliness. Thus
the use of short weapons generally denotes a gallant nation; the old
Roman gladius, the French briquet, and the Afghan charay would be
useless in the hands of a timid people. Under the impression that the
further men stand from their enemies the less is to be expected from
them, the French knights not inaptly termed the “villanous saltpetre”
the “grave of honour,” whilst their English rivals called the gun a
“hell-born murderer,” and an “instrument hateful in the sight of God and
man.” The Africans have also acted upon this idea. A great Kafir chief
did what Plutarch relates of Camillus: he broke short the assegais of
his “magnificent savages” when he sent them to war, and forbade each
warrior to return without having stained his stick with blood; the
consequence was, that, instead of “dumb-shooting” at a distance, they
rushed in and won.

The mkuki, farárá, or spear, is more generally used for stabbing than
throwing. It has a long narrow blade of untempered iron, so soft that it
may be bent with the fingers; it is capable, however, of receiving a
fine edge. The shoulders are rounded off, and one or two lines extend
lengthways along the centre from socket to point. At the socket where
the shaft is introduced, it its covered with a bit of skin from the tail
of some animal drawn on like a stocking, and sometimes the iron is
forced on when heated, so as to adhere by contraction of the metal. The
shaft, which is five to six feet long, is a branch of the dark-brown
mkole or the light-yellow mtata-tree, chosen because close-grained,
tough, pliable, and free from knots; it is peeled, straightened in hot
ashes, pared down to the heart, smoothed with a knife, carefully oiled
or greased, without which it soon becomes brittle, and polished with the
leaves of the mkuba-tree. The wood is mostly ornamented with twists of
brass and copper wire; it is sometimes plated with zinc or tin, and it
is generally provided with an iron heel for planting in the ground. Some
tribes--the northern Wagogo and their neighbours the Wamasai for
instance--have huge spear-heads like shovels, unfit for throwing. The
best weapons for war are made in Karagwah.

The kikuki, assegai, or javelin, is much used by the Warori and other
fighting tribes, who enter action with a sheaf of those weapons.
Nowhere, however, did the East African appear possessed of the dexterity
described by travellers amongst the southern races. The assegai
resembles the spear in all points, except that the head is often barbed,
and it is more lightly timbered; the shaft is rarely more than four feet
in length, and it tapers to the thinness of a man’s little finger. It is
laid upon the palm of the right hand, and balanced with a vibratory
motion till the point of equilibrium is found, when it is delivered with
little exertion of the muscles beyond the run or spring, and as it
leaves the hand it is directed by the forefinger and thumb. Sometimes,
to obviate breaking, the assegai is made like the Indian “sang,” wholly
of iron.

The East African is a “good archère and a fayre.” The cubit-high Armiger
begins as soon as he can walk with miniature weapons, a cane bow and
reed bird-bolts tipped with wood, to practise till perfect at gourds and
pumpkins; he considers himself a man when he can boast of iron tips.
With many races “pudor est nescire sagittas.” The bravest, however, the
Wamasai and the Wakwafi, the Warori and the Watuta, ignore the practice;
with them--

        “No proof of manhood, none
  Of daring courage, is the bow;”

and the Somali abandons it to his Midgan or servile. The bow in East
Africa is invariably what is called a “self-bow,” that is to say, made
of a single piece, and backed weapons are unknown. It is uncommonly
stiff, and the strongest archer would find it difficult to “draw up a
yard;” of this nature probably was the bow sent to Cambyses by the
Æthiopian monarch, with the taunting message that he had better not
attack men who could bend such weapons. When straight it may measure
five feet from tip to tip. It is made with the same care as the spear,
from a branch of the mumepweke or the mtata-tree, laboriously cut and
scraped so as to taper off towards the horns, and smeared with oil or
grease, otherwise it is easily sprung, and it is sometimes adorned with
plates of tin and zinc, with copper or brass wire and tips. The string
is made of hide, gut, the tendons of a bullock’s neck or hock, and
sometimes of tree-fibre; it is nearly double the bow in length, the
extra portion being whipped for strength as well as contingent use round
the upper horn. In shooting the bow is grasped with the left hand, but
the thumb is never extended along the back; the string is drawn with the
two bent forefingers, though sometimes the shaft is held after the
Asiatic fashion with the thumb and index. The bow is pulled with a jerk
as amongst the Somal, and not let fly as by Europeans with a long steady
loose. The best bows are made by the tribes near the Rufiji River.

The arrow is about two feet in length; the stele or shaft is made of
some light wood, and often of reed. Its fault is want of weight: to
inflict damage upon an antelope it must not be used beyond point-blank,
fifteen to twenty paces; and a score will be shot into a bullock before
it falls. The musketeer, despising the arrow at a distance, fears it at
close quarters, knowing that for his one shot the archer can discharge a
dozen. From the days of Franklin to the era of Silistria, Citate, and
Kars, fancy-tacticians have advocated the substitution of the bow or the
addition of it to the “queen of weapons,” the musket. Their reasons for
a revival of the obsolete arm are its lightness, its rapidity of
discharge, and its silent action. They forget, however, the saying of
Xenophon, that it is impiety in a man who has not learned archery from
his childhood to ask such boon of the easy gods.

The East Africans ignore the use of red-hot arrows; and the poisoned
shaft, an unmanly weapon, unused by the English and French archers even
in their deadliest wars, is confined to the Wanyika of Mombasah, the
Wazaramo, the Wak’hutu, the Western Wasagara, and the people of Uruwwa.
The Wazaramo and Wak’hutu call the plant from which the poison is
extracted Mkandekande. They sold at somewhat an exorbitant price a leaf
full of the preparation, but avoided pointing out to the expedition the
plant, which from their description appears to be a variety of
euphorbia. M. Werne (“Sources of the White Nile,” chap. viii.) says that
the river tribe prepare their arrow-poison from a kind of asclepias,
whose milky sap is pressed out between two stones and allowed to
thicken. Dr. Livingstone (chap. viii.) mentions the use of the n’gwa
caterpillar amongst the Bushmen, who also poison waters with the
Euphorbia arborescens; and Mr. Andersson (chap. vii.) specifies the
Euphorbia candelabrum amongst the Ovaherero and the Hill Damaras. In
East Africa the poison-leaves are allowed to distil their juices into a
pot, which for inspissation is placed over a slow fire; becoming thick
and slab, the contents are applied with a stick to the arrow, and are
smoothed between the hands. When finished, the part behind the barb is
covered with a shiny brown-black coat, not unlike pitch, to the extent
of four or five inches. After drying it is renewed by the application of
a fresh layer, the old being removed by exposure to the fire. The people
fear this poison greatly; they wash their hands after touching it, and
declare that a wounded man or beast loses sense, “moons about,” and
comes to the ground before running a quarter of a mile. Much
exaggeration, however, must be expected upon the subject of toxicology
amongst barbarians: it acts like the Somali arrow-poison, as a strong
narcotic, and is, probably, rarely fatal, even when freshly applied.

Fearing the action of the wind upon such light shafts if unfledged, the
archer inserts into the cloven end three or four feathers, the
cockfeather being as in Europe perpendicular when the arrow is nocked.
The pile or iron head is curiously and cruelly barbed with long waving
tails; the neck is toothed and edged by dinting the iron when hot with
an axe, and it is sometimes half-sawed that it may break before
extraction. The East Africans also have forkers or two-headed shafts,
and bird-bolts or blunt arrows tipped with some hard wood, used when the
weapon is likely to be lost. Before loosing an arrow the archer throws
into the air a pinch of dust, not to find out the wind, but for good
luck, like the Tartars of Tibet before discharging their guns. In battle
the heavy-armed man holds his spear and a sheaf of spare arrows in the
bow-hand, whilst a quiver slung to the left side contains reserve
missiles, and a little axe stuck in the right side of the girdle is
ready when the rest fail. The ronga or quiver is a bark-case, neatly cut
and stained. It is of two forms, full-length, and provided with a cover
for poisoned, and half-length for unpoisoned, arrows.

The rungu or knobkerry is the African club or mace; it extends from the
Cape to the negroid and the Somal tribes north of the equator. The shape
varies in almost every district: the head is long or round, oval or
irregular, and sometimes provided on one side with an edge; it is cut
out of the hardest wood, and generally from one piece. In some cases the
knob is added to the handle, and in others it is supplied with a
spear-head. The handle is generally two feet long, and it is cut thin
enough to make the weapon top-heavy. The Mnyamwezi is rarely seen abroad
without this weapon; he uses it in the chase, and in battle against the
archer: he seems to trust it in close quarters rather than the
feather-weight arrow or the spear that bends like gutta-percha, and most
murders are committed with it. The East people do not, like the Kafirs,
use the handle of the knobkerry as a dibble.

The sime or dudgeon is the makeshift for the Arab jambiyah and the
Persian khanjar. The form of this weapon differs in almost every tribe.
The Wahumba or Wamasai use blades about four feet long by two fingers in
breadth; the long, round, and guardless hilt is ribbed for security of
grasp, and covered with leather; their iron is of excellent quality, and
the shape of the weapon has given rise to the report that “they make
swords on the model of those of the Knights Templars.” The Wazegura and
the Wagogo use knives not unlike the poniard of the Somal. In some
tribes it is 3·5 feet long, with a leathern sheath extending half-way up
the blade. Generally it is about half that size, straight, pointed, and
double-edged, or jagged with teeth. The regions about the Lake
manufacture and export great numbers of these weapons varying from a
finger’s length to full dimensions.

The shoka or battle-axe is much used by the tribes around the
Tanganyika. It has a blade of triangular shape, somewhat longer and
thinner than that used as a working tool, which is passed through the
bulging head of a short handle cut out of the bauhinia or some other
hard tree. Amongst the Wasagara the peculiar mundu or bill often serves
for the same purpose.

The targes of the Wasagara and the Wanyamwezi have already been
described; the Wavinza make a shield of basket-work six feet by two, and
much resembling that of the southern Kafirs, and the Wa’ungu carry
large pavoises of bull’s hide. It is probable that the exceeding
humidity of the climate, so ruinous to leather, prevents the general
adoption of the shield; on the march it is merely an encumbrance, and
the warrior must carry it on his head beyond the reach of the dewy
grass.

The maritime races, the Wazegura, and others opposite the island of
Zanzibar, have imprudently been allowed to purchase fire-arms, which
they employ in obstructing caravans and in kidnapping-commandos against
their weaker neighbours. A single German house has, it is said, sold off
13,000 Tower muskets in one year. The arms now preferred are those
exported by Hamburg and America; they fetch 4 dollars each; the French
single-barrel is somewhat cheaper, averaging 3 dollars 50 cents. In the
interior fire-arms are still fortunately rare--the Arabs are too wise to
arm the barbarians against themselves. In Unyamwezi an old gun is a
present for a chief, and the most powerful rulers seldom can boast of
more than three. Gunpowder is imported from Zanzibar in kegs of 10 and
25 lbs., bearing the American mark; it is of the description used in
blasting, and fouls the piece after a few discharges. The price varies
at Zanzibar from 3 dollars 50 cents to 7 dollars, and upon the coast
from 5 to 10 dollars per small keg; in Unyamwezi ammunition is exchanged
for ivory and slaves, and some Arab merchants keep as many as thirty
kegs in the house, which they retail to factors and traders at the rate
of 1 to 2 shukkahs per lb.

Swords in East Africa are used only by strangers. The Wasawahili and the
slave-factors prefer the kittareh, a curved sabre made in Oman and
Hazramaut, or, in its stead, an old German cavalry-blade. The Arabs
carry as a distinction the “faranji,” a straight, thin, double-edged,
guardless, and two-handed sword, about four feet long, and sharp as a
carving-knife; the price varies from 10 to 100 dollars.

The negroid is an unmechanical race; his industry has scarcely passed
the limits of savage invention. Though cotton abounds in the interior,
the Wanyamwezi only have attempted a rude loom; and the working of iron
and copper is confined to the Wafyoma and the Lakist races. The gourd is
still the principal succedaneum for pottery. The other branches of
industry which are necessary to all barbarians are mats and baskets,
ropes and cords.

Carpentering amongst the East Africans is still in its rudest stage; no
Dædalus has yet taught them to jag their knives into saws. It is limited
to making the cots and cartels upon which the people invariably sleep,
and to carving canoes, mortars, bowls, rude platters, spoons, stools,
and similar articles of furniture. The tree, after being rung and barked
to dry the juices, is felled by fire or the axe; it is then cut up into
lengths of the required dimensions, and hacked into shape with slow and
painful toil. The tools are a shoka, or hatchet of puerile dimensions,
perhaps one-fifth the size of our broad axes, yet the people can use it
to better advantage than the admirable implement of the backwoodsman.
The mbizo or adze is also known in the interior, but none except the
Fundi and the slaves trained upon the coast have ever seen a hand-saw, a
centre-bit, or a chisel.

Previous to weaving, cotton is picked and cleaned with the hand; it is
then spun into a coarse thread. Like the Paharis of India, the East
Africans ignore the distaff; they twist the material round the left
wrist. The mlavi, or spindle, is of two forms; one is a short stick,
inserted in a hole practised through a lump of lead or burnt clay, like
the Indian bhaunri; the other is a thin bit of wood, about 1·5 ft. long,
with a crescent of the same material on the top, and an iron hook to
hold the thread. The utanda, or loom-frame differs from the
vertical-shaped article of West Africa. Two side-poles about twelve feet
long, and supported at the corners by four uprights, are placed at an
angle, enabling the workman to stand to his work; and the oblong is
completed by two cross-bars, round which the double line of the warp, or
longitudinal threads of the woven tissue, are secured. The dimensions of
the web vary from five to six feet in length, by two to three broad. The
weft, or transverse thread, is shot with two or three thin laths, or
spindles, round which the white and coloured yarns are wound, through
the doubled warp, which is kept apart by another lath passing between
the two layers, and the spindle is caught with the left hand as it
appears at the left side. Lastly, a lath, broader and flatter than the
others, is used to close the work, and to beat the thread home. As the
workman deems three hours per diem ample labour, a cloth will rarely be
finished under a week. Taste is shown in the choice of patterns: they
are sometimes checks with squares, alternately black and white, or in
stripes of black variegated with red dyes upon a white ground: the lines
are generally broad in the centre, but narrow along the edges, and the
texture not a little resembles our sacking. The dark colour is obtained
from the juice of the mzima-tree; it stains the yarn to a dull brown,
which becomes a dark mulberry, or an Indian-ink black, when buried for
two or three days in the vegetable mud of the ponds and pools. The
madder-red is produced by boiling the root and bark of a bush called
mda’a; an ochreish tint is also extracted from the crimson matter that
stains the cane and the leaves of red holcus. All cloths have the tambua
or fringe indispensable in East Africa. Both weaving and dyeing are
men’s not women’s work in these lands.

The cloth is a poor article: like the people of Ashanti, who from time
immemorial have woven their own cottons, the East African ever prefers
foreign fabrics. The loose texture of his own produce admits wind and
rain; when dry it is rough and unpleasant, when wet heavy, comfortless
as leather, and it cannot look clean, as it is never bleached. According
to the Arabs, the yarn is often dipped into a starch made from grain,
for the purpose of thickening the appearance of the texture: this
disappears after the first washing, and the cloth must be pegged down to
prevent its shrinking to half-size. The relative proportion of warp and
weft is unknown, and the woolly fuzzy quality of the half-wild cotton
now in use impoverishes the fabric. Despite the labour expended upon
these cloths, the largest size may be purchased for six feet of American
domestics, or for a pair of iron hoes: there is therefore little
inducement to extend the manufacture.

Iron is picked up in the state called Utundwe, or gangue, from the sides
of low sandstone hills: in places the people dig pits from two to four
feet deep, and, according to the Arabs, they find tears, nodules, and
rounded lumps. The pisolithic iron, common in the maritime regions, is
not worked. The mhesi or blacksmith’s art is still in its infancy. The
iron-stone is carried to the smithy, an open shed, where the work is
done: the smelting-furnace is a hole in the ground, filled with lighted
charcoal, upon which the utundwe is placed, and, covered with another
layer of fire, it is allowed to run through the fuel. The blast is
produced by mafukutu (bellows): they are two roughly rounded troughs,
about three inches deep by six in diameter, hewn out of a single bit of
wood and prolonged into a pair of parallel branches, pierced for the
passage of the wind through two apertures in the walls of the troughs.
The troughs are covered with skin, to which are fixed two long
projecting sticks for handles, which may be worked by a man sitting. A
stone is placed upon the bellows for steadiness, and clay nozzles, or
holcus-canes with a lateral hole, are fixed on to the branches to
prevent them from charring. Sometimes as many as five pairs are worked
at once, and great is the rapidity required to secure a continuous
outdraught. Mr. Andersson (“Lake Ngami,” chap. xvi.) gives a sketch of a
similar contrivance amongst the South Africans: the clay-tubes, however,
are somewhat larger than those used in Unyamwezi by “blacksmiths at
work.” The ore is melted and remelted several times, till pure;
tempering and case-hardening are unknown, and it is stored for use by
being cast in clay-moulds, or made up into hoes. The hammer and anvil
are generally smooth stones. The principal articles of ironmongery are
spears, assegais, and arrow-heads, battle-axes, hatchets, and adzes,
knives and daggers, sickles and razors, rings and sambo, or wire
circlets. The kinda is a large bell, hung by the ivory-porter to his
tusk on the line of the march: the kengere or kiugi a smaller variety
which he fastens to his legs. Pipes, with iron bowls and stems, are made
by the more ingenious, and the smoker manufactures for himself small
pincers or pliers which, curious to say, are unknown even by name to the
more civilised people of Zanzibar.

Copper is not found upon this line in East Africa. From the country of
the Kazembe, however, an excellent red and heavy, soft and bright
variety, not unlike that of Japan, finds its way to Ujiji, and sometimes
to the coast. It is sold in bars from one to two feet long. At Ujiji,
where it is cheap, four to five pounds are procurable for two doti,
there worth about four dollars. Native copper, therefore, is almost as
expensive as that imported from Europe. It is used in making the rude
and clumsy bangles affected by both sexes, sambo, and ornaments for the
spear and bow, the staff and the knobkerry.

[Illustration: Gourds.]

The art of ceramics has made but little progress in East Africa; no
Anacharsis has yet arisen to teach her sons the use of the wheel. The
figuline, a greyish-brown clay, is procured from river-beds, or is dug
up in the country; it is subjected to the preliminary operations of
pounding, rubbing dry upon a stone, pulverising, and purifying from
stones and pebbles. It is then worked into a thick mass, with water, and
the potter fashions it with the hand, first shaping the mouth; he adds
an inch to it when dry, hardens it in the sun, makes another addition,
and thus proceeds till it is finished. Lines and other ornaments having
been traced, the pots are baked in piles of seven or eight, by burning
grass--wood-fire would crack them--consequently the material always
remains half-raw. Usually the colour becomes lamp-black; in Usagara,
however, the potter’s clay burns red, like the soil--the effect of iron.
A cunning workman will make in a day four of these pots, some of them
containing several gallons, and their perfect regularity of form, and
often their picturesqueness of shape, surprise the stranger. The best
are made in Ujiji, Karagwah, and Ugunda: those of Unyamwezi are
inferior, and the clay of Zanzibar is of all the worst.

There are many kinds of pots which not a little resemble the glazed jars
of ancient Egypt. The ukango, which acts as vat in fermenting liquor, is
of the greatest dimensions. The mtungi is a large water-vessel with a
short and narrow neck, and rounded at the bottom so as to be
conveniently carried on the head. The chungu, or cooking-pot, has a wide
and open mouth; it is of several varieties, large and small. The mkungu
is a shallow bowl, precisely like those made at the tomb of Moses, and
now familiar to Europe. At Ujiji and on the Lake they also manufacture
smaller vessels, with and without spouts.

In a country where pottery is scarce and dear, the buyu or Cucurbita
lagenaria supplies every utensil except those used for cooking; its many
and various adaptations render it a valuable production. The people
train it to grow in the most fantastic shapes, and ornament it by
tatooing with dark paint, and by patterns worked in brass tacks and
wires; where it splits, it is artistically sewn together. The larger
kinds serve as well-buckets, water-pots, travelling-canteens, churns,
and the sounding-boards of musical instruments: a hookah, or water-pipe,
is made by distorting the neck, and the smaller varieties are converted
into snuff-boxes, medicine-cases, and unguent-pots. The fruit of the
calabash-tree is also called buyu: split and dried it is used as ladles,
but it is too small to answer all the purposes of the gourd.

The East Africans excel in the manufacture of mtemba or
bori--pipe-heads. These are of two kinds. One is made from a soft stone,
probably steatite, found in Usonga, near Utumbara, and on the road to
Karagwah: it is, however, rare, and about ten times the price of the
clay bowls, because less liable to break. The other is made of a plastic
or pipe-clay, too brittle to serve for pots, and it invariably cracks at
the shank, unless bound with wire. Both are hand-made, and are burned in
the same rough way as the pottery. At Msene, where the clay pipe is
cheapest, the price of the bowl is a khete, or double string of white or
blue beads. The pipe of Unyamwezi is of graceful shape, a cone with the
apex downwards; this leaves but little of the hot, oily, and
high-smelling tobacco at the bottom, whereas in Europe the contrary
seems to be the rule. In Ujiji the bowl is small, rounded, and shallow;
it is, moreover, very brittle. The most artful “mtemba” is made by the
people of Uvira: black inside, like other pottery, its exterior is
coloured a greyish-white, and is adorned with red by means of the Indian
geru (Colcothar or Crocus Martis). Bhang is always, and tobacco is
sometimes, smoked in a water-pipe: the bowl is of huge size, capable of
containing at least half a pound, and its upper half is made to incline
towards the smoker’s face. The Lakist tribes have a graceful variety,
like the Indian “chillam,” very different from the awkward, unwieldy,
and distorted article now fashionable in Unyamwezi and the Eastern
countries. The usual pipe-stem is a tube of about 1·5 feet long,
generally a hollow twig of the dwarf melewele-tree. As it is rudely
bored with hot wire, it must be made air-tight by wax and a coating of
brass or copper wire; a strap of hairy skin prevents the pipe-shank
parting from the stick. Iron and brass tubes are rare and highly prized;
the fortunate possessor will sometimes ask for a single specimen two
shukkahs.

Basket-making and mat-weaving are favourite occupations in East Africa
for both sexes and all ages; even the Arabs may frequently be seen
absorbed in an employment which in Oman would be considered derogatory
to manliness. The sengo, or common basket, from the coast to the Lake,
is an open, shallow, and pan-shaped article, generally made of mwanzi,
or bamboo-bark, reddened in parts and stained black in others by the
root of the Mkuruti and other trees, and white where the outer coat has
been removed from the bamboo. The body, which resembles a popular
article in ancient Egypt, is neatly plaited, and the upper ends are
secured to a stout hoop of the same material. The kanda (in the plural
makanda) acts in the interior as matting for rooms, and is converted
into bags for covering bales of cloth, beads, and similar articles. It
is made from the myara (myala) or Chamærops humilis; the leaf is peeled,
sun-dried, and split with a bit of iron into five or six lengths, joined
at the base, which is trimmed for plaiting. The Karagwah, the only mat
made in the interior of Africa, is used as bedding and carpeting; on
journeys the porters bivouac under it; it swells with the wet, and soon
becomes impervious to rain or heavy dew. It is of two kinds: one of
rushes growing in the vicinity of water, the other of grass rolled up
into little bundles. A complicated stitch runs along the whole length in
double lines. The best description of mat is called mkeke. It is made
at Zanzibar and the coast, from the young fronds of the ukhindu or brab,
neatly stained with various dyes. Women of family pride themselves upon
their skill in making the mkeke, which still attains a price of four
dollars. Amongst the maritime races none but the chiefs have a right to
sit upon it; there are no such distinctions in the interior, where these
mats are carried for sale by the slaves. From the brab also are made
neat strainers to purify honey, pombe, and similar articles. They are
open-mouthed cylinders, from one to two feet long, and varying in
diameter from three to six inches. The bottom is narrowed by whipping
fibre round the loose ends of the leaves. The fishing-nets have been
described when treating of the Tanganyika. The luávo, or hand-net, is
made of calabash or other fibre, with coarse wide meshes; it is affixed
to two sticks firmly planted in the ground, and small animals are driven
into it by beaters.

The basts or barks and fibrous substances in East Africa are cheap and
abundant, but labour and conveyance being difficult and expensive, they
would require to be shipped from Zanzibar in the condition of
half-stuff. The best and most easily divisible into pliant and
knot-tying fibres are, upon the coast the pineapple, and in the interior
the plantain. The next in value are the integuments of the calabash and
the myombo tree. These fibres would produce a good article were it not
for the artlessness of African manipulation. The bark is pounded or
chewed, and, in lieu of spinning, is twisted between the hands; the
largest ropes are made in half an hour, and break after a few minutes of
hard work. A fine silky twine, used for fishing, is made from the
aloetic plants called by the Wasawahili mkonge, and by the Arabs bag,
masad and kideh: it is the hig or haskul of Somaliland, where it affects
the poorest ground, cannot be burnt down, and is impassable to naked
legs and cattle. The leaves are stripped of their coats, and the ends
being tightly bound between two pieces of wood, the mass of fibre is
drawn out like a sword from its sheath. Fatilah, or matchlock matches,
are made in Zanzibar of cotton, and in the interior of calabash fibre.

As might be expected among a sparse population leading a comparatively
simple life, the vast variety of diseases which afflict more civilised
races, who are collected in narrow spaces, are unknown in East Africa
even by name. Its principal sporadic is fever, remittent and
intermittent, with its multitudinous secondaries, concerning which
notices have been scattered through the preceding pages. The most
dangerous epidemic is its aborigen, the small-pox, which, propagated
without contact or fomites, sweeps at times like a storm of death over
the land. For years it has not left the Arab colony at Kazeh, and,
shortly before the arrival of the Expedition, in a single month 52
slaves died out of a total of 800. The ravages of this disease amongst
the half-starved and over-worked gangs of caravan porters have already
been described; as many as a score of these wretches have been seen at a
time in a single caravan; men staggering along blinded and almost
insensible, jostling and stumbling against every one in their way; and
mothers carrying babes, both parent and progeny in the virulent stage of
the fell disease. The Arabs have partially introduced the practice of
inoculating, anciently known in South Africa; the pus is introduced into
an incision in the forehead between the eyebrows. The people have no
remedy for small-pox: they trust entirely to the vis medicatrix. There
is a milder form of the malady, called shúrúá, resembling the
chicken-pox of Europe; it is cured by bathing in cold water and smearing
the body with ochreish earth. The Arab merchants of Unyanyembe declare
that, when they first visited Karagwah, the people were decimated by the
táún, or plague. They describe correctly the bubo under the axillæ, the
torturing thirst, and the rapid fatality of the disease. In the early
part of 1859 a violent attack of cholera, which extended from Maskat
along the eastern coast of Arabia and Africa, committed terrible ravages
in the island of Zanzibar and throughout the maritime regions. Of
course, no precautions of quarantine or cordon militaire were taken, yet
the contagion did not extend into the interior.

Strangers in East Africa suffer from dysenteries and similar disorders
consequent upon fever; and, as in Egypt, few are free from hæmorrhoids,
which in Unyamwezi are accompanied by severe colics and umbilical pains.
Rheumatism and rheumatic fever, severe catarrhs and influenzas, are
caused by the cold winds, and, when crossing the higher altitudes,
pneumonia and pleurisis abound in the caravan. On the coast many
settlers, Indian and Arab, show upon the skin whitish leprous spots,
which are treated with various unguents. In the interior, though well
provided with fresh meat and vegetables, travellers are attacked by
scurvy, even in the absence of its normal exciting causes, damp, cold,
and poor diet. This phenomenon has often been observed upon the upper
course of the Nile; Europeans have been prostrated by it even in the dry
regions westward of the Red Sea, and the Portuguese officers who
explored Usenda of the Kazembe suffered tortures from the complaint.

Common diseases among the natives are umbilical hernia and prolapsus:
the latter is treated by the application of powdered bhang, dry or mixed
with ghee. They are subject to kihindu-hindu--in Arabic, sara--the
epilepsy, which they pretend to cure by the marrow of rhinoceros’ shank.
Of the many fits and convulsions which affect them, the kichyoma-chyoma
is the most dreaded. The word, which means the “little irons,” describes
the painful sensations, the cramps and stitches, the spasms and
lancinations, which torment the sufferer. Many die of this disease. It
is not extraordinary that the fits, convulsions, and contortions which
it suddenly induces should lead the people to consider it in the light
of possession, and the magician to treat it with charms. Madness and
idiocy are not uncommon: of the patient it is said, “Ana wazimo”--“he
has fiends.” In most parts the people, after middle age, are tender-eyed
from the effects of smoke within, glare without, exposure and
debauchery. Not a few samples of acute ophthalmic disease were seen.

In the lower and more malarious spots, desquamations, tumours, and skin
diseases are caused by suddenly suppressed perspiration. The terrible
kidonda or helcoma of the maritime regions and the prurigo of Ujiji have
already been alluded to. The “chokea” is a hordeolum or large boil,
generally upon the upper eyelid. The “funza” is supposed to result from
the bite of a large variety of fly. It begins with a small red and fiery
swelling, which bursts after a time and produces a white entozoon about
half an inch in length. “Kumri” are common blains, and “p’hambazi”
malignant blind-boils, which leave a deep discoloured scar; when the
parts affected are distant from the seat of circulation, the use of the
limb is sometimes lost. For most of these sores tutiya or murtutu,
blue-stone, is considered a specific.

As might be expected amongst an ignorant and debauched race coming in
direct contact with semi-civilisation, the lues has found its way from
the island of Zanzibar to Ujiji and into the heart of Africa. It is
universally believed both by the natives and by the Arabs, who support
the assertion with a host of proofs, to be propagated without contact.
Such, indeed, is the general opinion of the Eastern world, where perhaps
its greater virulence may assimilate it to the type of the earlier
attacks in Europe. The disease, however, dies out, and has not taken
root in the people as amongst the devoted races of North America and the
South Sea islands. Although a malignant form was found extending
throughout the country, mutilation of the features and similar
secondaries were not observed beyond the maritime region. Except
blue-stone, mineral drugs are unknown, and the use of mercury and
ptyalism have not yet exasperated the evil. The minor form of lues is
little feared and yields readily to simples; the consequences, however,
are strangury, cystitis, chronic nephritic disease, and rheumatism.

“Polypharmacy” is not the fault of the profession in East Africa, and
the universal belief in possession tends greatly to simplify the
methodus modendi. The usual cathartic is the bark of a tree called
kalákalá, which is boiled in porridge. There is a great variety of
emetics, some so violent that several Arabs who have been bold enough to
swallow them, barely escaped with life. The actual cautery--usually a
favourite counter-irritant amongst barbarous people--is rarely practised
in East Africa; in its stead powder of blue-stone is applied to the sore
or wound, which has been carefully scraped, and the patient howls with
pain for twenty-four hours. They bleed frequently as Italians, who even
after being startled resort to a mild phlebotomy, and they cut down
straight upon the vein with a sharp knife. They prefer the cucurbitula
cruenta, like the Arabs, who say,--

  “Few that cup repent;
   Few that bleed, rejoice.”

A favourite place is the crown of the head. The practitioner, after
scarifying the skin with a razor or a dagger, produces a vacuum by
exhausting the air through a horn applied with wetted edges; at the
point is a bit of wax, which he closes over the aperture with his tongue
or teeth, as the hospital “singhi” in India uses a bit of leather.
Cupping--called ku hu míká or kumíká--is made highly profitable by
showing strange appearances in the blood. They cure by excision the bite
of snakes, which, however, are not feared nor often fatal in these
lands. They cannot reduce dislocations, and they never attempt to set or
splint a broken bone.

The mganga or medicine-man, in his character of “doctor,” is a personage
of importance. He enters the sick-room in the dignity of antelope-horn,
grease, and shell-necklace, and he sits with importance upon his
three-legged stool. As the devil saves him the trouble of diagnosis, he
begins by a prescription, invariably ordering something edible for the
purpose, and varying it, according to the patient’s means, from a
measure of grain to a bullock. He asserts, for instance, that a pound of
fat is required for medicine; a goat must be killed, and his perquisite
is the head or breast--a preliminary to a more important fee. Then the
price of prescription--a _sine quâ non_ to prescribing--is settled upon
and paid in advance. After certain questions, invariably suggesting the
presence of poison, the medical practitioner proceeds to the cure; this
is generally a charm or periapt bound round the part affected. In common
diseases, however, like fever, the mganga will condescend to such
profane processes as adhibiting sternutatories and rubbing the head with
vegetable powders. If the remedies prove too powerful or powerless, he
at once decamps; under normal circumstances he incapacitates himself for
performing his promise of calling the next day by expending his fee in
liquor. The Africans have in one point progressed beyond Europeans:
there are as many women physicians as men.

[Illustration: A Mnyamwezi.

A Mheha.]




CHAP. XIX.

THE CHARACTER AND RELIGION OF THE EAST AFRICANS; THEIR GOVERNMENT, AND
SLAVERY.


The study of psychology in Eastern Africa is the study of man’s
rudimental mind, when, subject to the agency of material nature, he
neither progresses nor retrogrades. He would appear rather a degeneracy
from the civilised man than a savage rising to the first step, were it
not for his apparent incapacity for improvement. He has not the ring of
the true metal; there is no rich nature, as in the New Zealander, for
education to cultivate. He seems to belong to one of those childish
races which, never rising to man’s estate, fall like worn-out links from
the great chain of animated nature. He unites the incapacity of infancy
with the unpliancy of age; the futility of childhood, and the credulity
of youth, with the scepticism of the adult and the stubbornness and
bigotry of the old. He has “beaten lands” and seas. For centuries he has
been in direct intercourse with the more advanced people of the eastern
coast, and though few have seen an European, there are not many who have
not cast eyes upon an Arab. Still he has stopped short at the threshold
of progress; he shows no signs of development; no higher and more varied
orders of intellect are called into being. Even the simple truths of El
Islam have failed to fix the thoughts of men who can think, but who,
absorbed in providing for their bodily wants, hate the trouble of
thinking. His mind, limited to the objects seen, heard, and felt, will
not, and apparently cannot, escape from the circle of sense, nor will it
occupy itself with aught but the present. Thus he is cut off from the
pleasures of memory, and the world of fancy is altogether unknown to
him. Perhaps the automaton which we call spiritual suffers from the
inferiority of the mechanism by which it acts.

The East African is, like other barbarians, a strange mixture of good
and evil: by the nature of barbarous society, however, the good element
has not, whilst the evil has, been carefully cultured.

As a rule, the civilised or highest type of man owns the sway of
intellect, of reason; the semi-civilised--as are still the great nations
of the East--are guided by sentiment and propensity in a degree
incomprehensible to more advanced races; and the barbarian is the slave
of impulse, passion, and instinct, faintly modified by sentiment, but
ignorant of intellectual discipline. He appears, therefore, to the
civilised man a paralogic being,--a mere mass of contradictions; his
ways are not our ways, his reason is not our reason. He deduces effects
from causes which we ignore; he compasses his ends by contrivances
which we cannot comprehend; and his artifices and polity excite, by
their shallowness and “inconsequence,” our surprise and contempt. Like
that Hindu race that has puzzled the plain-witted Englishman for the
century closing with the massacres of Delhi and Cawnpore, he is
calculated to perplex those who make conscience an instinct which
elevates man to the highest ground of human intelligence. He is at once
very good-tempered and hard-hearted, combative and cautious; kind at one
moment, cruel, pitiless, and violent at another; sociable and
unaffectionate; superstitious and grossly irreverent; brave and
cowardly, servile and oppressive; obstinate, yet fickle and fond of
changes; with points of honour, but without a trace of honesty in word
or deed; a lover of life, though addicted to suicide; covetous and
parsimonious, yet thoughtless and improvident; somewhat conscious of
inferiority, withal unimprovable. In fact, he appears an embryo of the
two superior races. He is inferior to the active-minded and objective,
the analytic and perceptive European, and to the ideal and subjective,
the synthetic and reflective Asiatic. He partakes largely of the worst
characteristics of the lower Oriental types--stagnation of mind,
indolence of body, moral deficiency, superstition, and childish passion;
hence the Egyptians aptly termed the Berbers and negroes the “perverse
race of Kush.”

The main characteristic of this people is the selfishness which the
civilised man strives to conceal, because publishing it would obstruct
its gratification. The barbarian, on the other hand, displays his
inordinate egotism openly and recklessly; his every action discloses
those unworthy traits which in more polished races chiefly appear on
public occasions, when each man thinks solely of self-gratification.
Gratitude with him is not even a sense of prospective favours; he looks
upon a benefit as the weakness of his benefactor and his own strength;
consequently, he will not recognise even the hand that feeds him. He
will, perhaps, lament for a night the death of a parent or a child, but
the morrow will find him thoroughly comforted. The name of hospitality,
except for interested motives, is unknown to him: “What will you give
me?” is his first question. To a stranger entering a village the worst
hut is assigned, and, if he complain, the answer is that he can find
encamping ground outside. Instead of treating him like a guest, which
the Arab Bedouin would hold to be a point of pride, of honour, his host
compels him to pay and prepay every article, otherwise he might starve
in the midst of plenty. Nothing, in fact, renders the stranger’s life
safe in this land, except the timid shrinking of the natives from the
“hot-mouthed weapon” and the necessity of trade, which induces the
chiefs to restrain the atrocities of their subjects. To travellers the
African is, of course, less civil than to merchants, from whom he
expects to gain something. He will refuse a mouthful of water out of his
abundance to a man dying of thirst; utterly unsympathising, he will not
stretch out a hand to save another’s goods, though worth thousands of
dollars. Of his own property, if a ragged cloth or a lame slave be lost,
his violent excitement is ridiculous to behold. His egotism renders him
parsimonious even in self-gratification; the wretched curs, which he
loves as much as his children, seldom receive a mouthful of food, and
the sight of an Arab’s ass feeding on grain elicits a prolonged “Hi!
hi!” of extreme surprise. He is exceedingly improvident, taking no
thought for the morrow--not from faith, but rather from carelessness as
to what may betide him; yet so greedy of gain is he that he will refuse
information about a country or the direction of a path without a present
of beads. He also invariably demands prepayment: no one keeps a promise
or adheres to an agreement, and, if credit be demanded for an hour, his
answer would be, “There is nothing in my hand.” Yet even greed of gain
cannot overcome the levity and laxity of his mind. Despite his best
interests, he will indulge the mania for desertion caused by that
mischievous love of change and whimsical desire for novelty that
characterise the European sailor. Nor can even lucre prevail against the
ingrained indolence of the race--an indolence the more hopeless as it is
the growth of the climate. In these temperate and abundant lands Nature
has cursed mankind with the abundance of her gifts; his wants still
await creation, and he is contented with such necessaries as roots and
herbs, game, and a few handfuls of grain--consequently improvement has
no hold upon him.

In this stage of society truth is no virtue. The “mixture of a lie” may
“add to pleasure” amongst Europeans; in Africa it enters where neither
pleasure nor profit can arise from the deception. If a Mnyamwezi guide
informs the traveller that the stage is short, he may make up his mind
for a long and weary march, and _vice versâ_. Of course, falsehood is
used as a defence by the weak and oppressed; but beyond that, the
African desires to be lied to, and one of his proverbs is, “’Tis better
to be deceived than to be undeceived.” The European thus qualifies the
assertion,

  “For sure the pleasure is as great
   In being cheated as to cheat.”

Like the generality of barbarous races, the East Africans are wilful,
headstrong, and undisciplinable: in point of stubbornness and
restiveness they resemble the lower animals. If they cannot obtain the
very article of barter upon which they have set their mind, they will
carry home things useless to them; any attempt at bargaining is settled
by the seller turning his back, and they ask according to their wants
and wishes, without regard to the value of goods. Grumbling and
dissatisfied, they never do business without a grievance. Revenge is a
ruling passion, as the many rancorous fratricidal wars that have
prevailed between kindred clans, even for a generation, prove.
Retaliation and vengeance are, in fact, their great agents of moral
control. Judged by the test of death, the East African is a hardhearted
man, who seems to ignore all the charities of father, son, and brother.
A tear is rarely shed, except by the women, for departed parent,
relative, or friend, and the voice of the mourner is seldom heard in
their abodes. It is most painful to witness the complete inhumanity with
which a porter seized with small-pox is allowed by his friends,
comrades, and brethren to fall behind in the jungle, with several days’
life in him. No inducement--even beads--can persuade a soul to attend
him. Every village will drive him from its doors; no one will risk
taking, at any price, death into his bosom. If strong enough, the
sufferer builds a little bough-hut away from the camp, and, provided
with his rations--a pound of grain and a gourdful of water--he quietly
expects his doom, to feed the hyæna and the raven of the wild. The
people are remarkable for the readiness with which they yield to fits of
sudden fury; on these occasions they will, like children, vent their
rage upon any object, animate or inanimate, that presents itself. Their
temper is characterised by a nervous, futile impatience; under delay or
disappointment they become madmen. In their own country, where such
displays are safe, they are remarkable for a presumptuousness and a
violence of manner which elsewhere disappears. As the Arabs say, there
they are lions, here they become curs. Their squabbling and clamour pass
description: they are never happy except when in dispute. After a rapid
plunge into excitement, the brawlers alternately advance and recede,
pointing the finger of threat, howling and screaming, cursing and using
terms of insult which an inferior ingenuity--not want of will--causes to
fall short of the Asiatic’s model vituperation. After abusing each other
to their full, both “parties” usually burst into a loud laugh or a burst
of sobs. Their tears lie high; they weep like Goanese. After a cuff, a
man will cover his face with his hands and cry as if his heart would
break. More furious shrews than the women are nowhere met with. Here it
is a great truth that “the tongues of women cannot be governed.” They
work off excitement by scolding, and they weep little compared with the
men. Both sexes delight in “argument,” which here, as elsewhere, means
two fools talking foolishly. They will weary out of patience the most
loquacious of the Arabs. This development is characteristic of the East
African race, and “maneno marefu!”--long words!--will occur as a useless
reproof half a dozen times in the course of a single conversation. When
drunk, the East African is easily irritated; with the screams and
excited gestures of a maniac he strides about, frantically flourishing
his spear and agitating his bow, probably with notched arrow; the
spear-point and the arrow-head are often brought perilously near, but
rarely allowed to draw blood. The real combat is by pushing, pulling
hair, and slapping with a will, and a pair thus engaged require to be
torn asunder by half a dozen friends. The settled tribes are, for the
most part, feeble and unwarlike barbarians; even the bravest East
African, though, like all men, a combative entity, has a valour tempered
by discretion and cooled by a high development of cautiousness. His
tactics are of the Fabian order: he loves surprises and safe ambuscades;
and in common frays and forays the loss of one per cent. justifies a
_sauve qui peut_. This people, childlike, is ever in extremes. A man
will hang himself from a rafter in his tent, and kick away from under
him the large wooden mortar upon which he has stood at the beginning of
the operation with as much sang-froid as an Anglo-Saxon in the gloomy
month of November; yet he regards annihilation, as all savages do, with
loathing and ineffable horror. “He fears death,” to quote Bacon, “as
children fear to go in the dark; and as that natural fear in children is
increased with tales, so is the other.” The African mind must change
radically before it can “think upon death, and find it the least of all
evils.” All the thoughts of these negroids are connected with this life.
“Ah!” they exclaim, “it is bad to die! to leave off eating and drinking!
never to wear a fine cloth!” As in the negro race generally, their
destructiveness is prominent; a slave never breaks a thing without an
instinctive laugh of pleasure; and however careful he may be of his own
life, he does not value that of another, even of a relative, at the
price of a goat. During fires in the town of Zanzibar, the blacks have
been seen adding fuel, and singing and dancing, wild with delight. On
such occasions they are shot down by the Arabs like dogs.

It is difficult to explain the state of society in which the civilised
“social evil” is not recognised as an evil. In the economy of the
affections and the intercourse between the sexes, reappears that rude
stage of society in which ethics were new to the mind of now enlightened
man. Marriage with this people--as amongst all barbarians, and even the
lower classes of civilised races--is a mere affair of buying and
selling. A man must marry because it is necessary to his comfort,
consequently the woman becomes a marketable commodity. Her father
demands for her as many cows, cloths, and brass-wire bracelets as the
suitor can afford; he thus virtually sells her, and she belongs to the
buyer, ranking with his other live stock. The husband may sell his wife,
or, if she be taken from him by another man, he claims her value, which
is ruled by what she would fetch in the slave-market. A strong
inducement to marriage amongst the Africans, as with the poor in Europe,
is the prospective benefit to be derived from an adult family; a large
progeny enriches them. The African--like all barbarians, and, indeed,
semi-civilised people--ignores the dowry by which, inverting Nature’s
order, the wife buys the husband, instead of the husband buying the
wife. Marriage, which is an epoch amongst Christians, and an event with
Moslems, is with these people an incident of frequent recurrence.
Polygamy is unlimited, and the chiefs pride themselves upon the number
of their wives, varying from twelve to three hundred. It is no disgrace
for an unmarried woman to become the mother of a family; after matrimony
there is somewhat less laxity. The mgoni or adulterer, if detected, is
punishable by a fine of cattle, or, if poor and weak, he is sold into
slavery; husbands seldom, however, resort to such severities, the
offence, which is considered to be against vested property, being held
to be lighter than petty larceny. Under the influence of jealousy,
murders and mutilations have been committed, but they are rare and
exceptional. Divorce is readily effected by turning the spouse out of
doors, and the children become the father’s property. Attachment to home
is powerful in the African race, but it regards rather the comforts and
pleasures of the house, and the unity of relations and friends, than the
fondness of family. Husband, wife, and children have through life
divided interests, and live together with scant appearance of affection.
Love of offspring can have but little power amongst a people who have no
preventive for illegitimacy, and whose progeny may be sold at any time.
The children appear undemonstrative and unaffectionate, as those of the
Somal. Some attachment to their mothers breaks out, not in outward
indications, but by surprise, as it were: “Mámá! mámá!”--mother!
mother!--is a common exclamation in fear or wonder. When childhood is
passed, the father and son become natural enemies, after the manner of
wild beasts. Yet they are a sociable race, and the sudden loss of
relatives sometimes leads from grief to hypochondria and insanity,
resulting from the inability of their minds to bear any unusual strain.
It is probable that a little learning would make them mad, like the
Widad, or priest of the Somal, who, after mastering the reading of the
Koran, becomes unfit for any exertion of judgment or common sense. To
this over-development of sociability must be ascribed the anxiety always
shown to shift, evade, or answer blame. The “ukosa,” or transgression,
is never accepted; any number of words will be wasted in proving the
worse the better cause. Hence also the favourite phrase, “Mbáyá
we!”--thou art bad!--a pet mode of reproof which sounds simple and
uneffective to European ears.

The social position of the women--the unerring test of progress towards
civilisation--is not so high in East Africa as amongst the more highly
organised tribes of the south. Few parts of the country own the rule of
female chiefs. The people, especially the Wanyamwezi, consult their
wives, but the opinion of a brother or a friend would usually prevail
over that of a woman.

The deficiency of the East African in constructive power has already
been remarked. Contented with his haystack or beehive hut, his
hemisphere of boughs, or his hide acting tent, he hates and has a truly
savage horror of stone walls. He has the conception of the “Madeleine,”
but he has never been enabled to be delivered of it. Many Wanyamwezi,
when visiting Zanzibar, cannot be prevailed upon to enter a house.

The East African is greedy and voracious; he seems, however, to prefer
light and frequent to a few regular and copious meals. Even the
civilised Kisawahili has no terms to express the breakfast, dinner, and
supper of other languages. Like most barbarians, the East African can
exist and work with a small quantity of food, but he is unaccustomed,
and therefore unable, to bear thirst. The daily ration of a porter is 1
kubabah (= 1·5 lbs.) of grain; he can, with the assistance of edible
herbs and roots, which he is skilful in discovering in the least likely
places, eke out this allowance for several days, though generally, upon
the barbarian’s impulsive principle of mortgaging the future for the
present, he recklessly consumes his stores. With him the grand end of
life is eating; his love of feeding is inferior only to his propensity
for intoxication. He drinks till he can no longer stand, lies down to
sleep, and awakes to drink again. Drinking-bouts are solemn things, to
which the most important business must yield precedence. They celebrate
with beer every event--the traveller’s return, the birth of a child, and
the death of an elephant--a labourer will not work unless beer is
provided for him. A guest is received with a gourdful of beer, and,
amongst some tribes, it is buried with their princes. The highest orders
rejoice in drink, and pride themselves upon powers of imbibing: the
proper diet for a king is much beer and a little meat. If a Mnyamwezi be
asked after eating whether he is hungry, he will reply yea, meaning that
he is not drunk. Intoxication excuses crime in these lands. The East
African, when in his cups, must issue from his hut to sing, dance, or
quarrel, and the frequent and terrible outrages which occur on these
occasions are passed over on the plea that he has drunk beer. The
favourite hour for drinking is after dawn,--a time as distasteful to the
European as agreeable to the African and Asiatic. This might be proved
by a host of quotations from the poets, Arab, Persian, and Hindu. The
civilised man avoids early potations because they incapacitate him for
necessary labour, and he attempts to relieve the headache caused by
stimulants. The barbarian and the semi-civilised, on the other hand,
prefer them, because they relieve the tedium of his monotonous day; and
they cherish the headache because they can sleep the longer, and, when
they awake, they have something to think of. The habit once acquired is
never broken: it attaches itself to the heartstrings of the idle and
unoccupied barbarian.

In morality, according to the more extended sense of the word, the East
African is markedly deficient. He has no benevolence, but little
veneration--the negro race is ever irreverent--and, though his cranium
rises high in the region of firmness, his futility prevents his being
firm. The outlines of law are faintly traced upon his heart. The
authoritative standard of morality fixed by a revelation is in him
represented by a vague and varying custom, derived traditionally from
his ancestors; he follows in their track for old-sake’s sake. The
accusing conscience is unknown to him. His only fear after committing a
treacherous murder is that of being haunted by the angry ghost of the
dead; he robs as one doing a good deed, and he begs as if it were his
calling. His depravity is of the grossest: intrigue fills up all the
moments not devoted to intoxication.

The want of veneration produces a savage rudeness in the East African.
The body politic consists of two great members, masters and slaves.
Ignoring distinctions of society, he treats all men, except his chief,
as his equals. He has no rules for visiting: if the door be open, he
enters a stranger’s house uninvited; his harsh, barking voice is ever
the loudest; he is never happy except when hearing himself speak; his
address is imperious, his demeanour is rough and peremptory, and his
look “sfacciato.” He deposits his unwashed person, in his greasy and
tattered goat-skin or cloth, upon rug or bedding, disdaining to stand
for a moment, and he always chooses the best place in the room. When
travelling he will push forward to secure the most comfortable hut: the
chief of a caravan may sleep in rain or dew, but, if he attempt to
dislodge his porters, they lie down with the settled purpose of
mules--as the Arabs say, they “have no shame.” The curiosity of these
people, and the little ceremony with which they gratify it, are at times
most troublesome. A stranger must be stared at; total apathy is the only
remedy: if the victim lose his temper, or attempt to dislodge them, he
will find it like disturbing a swarm of bees. They will come for miles
to “sow gape-seed:” if the tent-fly be closed, they will peer and peep
from below, complaining loudly against the occupant, and, if further
prevented, they may proceed to violence. On the road hosts of idlers,
especially women, boys, and girls, will follow the caravan for hours; it
is a truly offensive spectacle--these uncouth figures, running at a
“gymnastic pace,” half clothed except with grease, with pendent bosoms
shaking in the air, and cries that resemble the howls of beasts more
than any effort of human articulation. This offensive ignorance of the
first principles of social intercourse has been fostered in the races
most visited by the Arabs, whose national tendency, like the Italian and
the Greek, is ever and essentially republican. When strangers first
appeared in the country they were received with respect and deference.
They soon, however, lost this vantage-ground: they sat and chatted with
the people, exchanged pleasantries, and suffered slights, till the
Africans found themselves on an equality with their visitors. The evil
has become inveterate, and no greater contrast can be imagined than that
between the manners of an Indian Ryot and an East African Mshenzi.

In intellect the East African is sterile and incult, apparently
unprogressive and unfit for change. Like the uncivilised generally, he
observes well, but he can deduce nothing profitable from his
perceptions. His intelligence is surprising when compared with that of
an uneducated English peasant; but it has a narrow bound, beyond which
apparently no man may pass. Like the Asiatic, in fact, he is stationary,
but at a much lower level. Devotedly fond of music, his love of tune has
invented nothing but whistling and the whistle: his instruments are all
borrowed from the coast people. He delights in singing, yet he has no
metrical songs: he contents himself with improvising a few words
without sense or rhyme, and repeats them till they nauseate: the long,
drawling recitative generally ends in “Ah! ha^{n}!” or some such
strongly-nasalised sound. Like the Somal, he has tunes appropriated to
particular occasions, as the elephant-hunt or the harvest-home. When
mourning, the love of music assumes a peculiar form: women weeping or
sobbing, especially after chastisement, will break into a protracted
threne or dirge, every period of which concludes with its own particular
groan or wail: after venting a little natural distress in a natural
sound, the long, loud improvisation, in the highest falsetto key,
continues as before. As in Europe the “laughing-song” is an imitation of
hilarity somewhat distressing to the spirits of the audience, so the
“weeping-song” of the African only tends to risibility. His wonderful
loquacity and volubility of tongue have produced no tales, poetry, nor
display of eloquence; though, like most barbarians, somewhat
sententious, he will content himself with squabbling with his
companions, or with repeating some meaningless word in every different
tone of voice during the weary length of a day’s march. His language is
highly artificial and musical: the reader will have observed that the
names which occur in these pages often consist entirely of liquids and
vowels, that consonants are unknown at the end of a word, and that they
never are double except at the beginning. Yet the idea of a syllabarium
seems not to have occurred to the negroid mind. Finally, though the East
African delights in the dance, and is an excellent timist--a thousand
heels striking the ground simultaneously sound like one--his performance
is as uncouth as perhaps was ever devised by man. He delights in a joke,
which manages him like a Neapolitan; yet his efforts in wit are of the
feeblest that can be conceived.

Though the general features of character correspond throughout the
tribes in East Africa, there are also marked differences. The Wazaramo,
for instance, are considered the most dangerous tribe on this line:
caravans hurry through their lands, and hold themselves fortunate if a
life be not lost, or if a few loads be not missing. Their neighbours,
the Wasagara of the hills, were once peaceful and civil to travellers:
the persecutions of the coast-people have rendered them morose and
suspicious; they now shun strangers, and, never knowing when they may be
attacked, they live in a constant state of agitation, excitement, and
alarm. After the Wazaramo, the tribes of Ugogo are considered the most
noisy and troublesome, the most extortionate, quarrelsome and violent on
this route: nothing restrains these races from bloodshed and plunder but
fear of retribution and self-interest. The Wanyamwezi bear the highest
character for civilisation, discipline, and industry. Intercourse with
the coast, however, is speedily sapping the foundations of their
superiority: the East African Expedition suffered more from thieving in
this than in any other territory, and the Arabs now depend for existence
there not upon prestige, but sufferance, in consideration of mutual
commercial advantage. In proportion as the traveller advances into the
interior, he finds the people less humane, or rather less human. The
Wavinza, the Wajiji, and the other Lakist tribes, much resemble one
another: they are extortionate, violent, and revengeful barbarians; no
Mnyamwezi dares to travel alone through their territories, and small
parties are ever in danger of destruction.

In dealing with the East African the traveller cannot do better than to
follow the advice of Bacon--“Use savages justly and graciously, with
sufficient guard nevertheless.” They must be held as foes; and the
prudent stranger will never put himself in their power, especially where
life is concerned. The safety of a caravan will often depend upon the
barbarian’s fear of beginning the fray: if the onset once takes place,
the numbers, the fierce looks, the violent gestures, and the confidence
of the assailants upon their own ground, will probably prevail. When
necessary, however, severity must be employed; leniency and forbearance
are the vulnerable points of civilised policy, as they encourage attack
by a suspicion of fear and weakness. They may be managed as the Indian
saw directs, by a judicious mixture of the “Narm” and “Garm”--the soft
and hot. Thus the old traders remarked in Guinea, that the best way to
treat a black man was to hold out one hand to shake with him, while the
other is doubled ready to knock him down. In trading with, or even when
dwelling amongst this people, all display of wealth must be avoided. A
man who would purchase the smallest article avoids showing anything
beyond its equivalent.

The ethnologist who compares this sketch with the far more favourable
description of the Kafirs, a kindred race, given by travellers in South
Africa, may suspect that only the darker shades of the picture are
placed before the eye. But, as will appear in a future page, much of
this moral degradation must be attributed to the working, through
centuries, of the slave-trade: the tribes are no longer as nature made
them; and from their connection with strangers they have derived nothing
but corruption. Though of savage and barbarous type, they have been
varnished with the semi-civilisation of trade and commerce, which sits
ridiculously upon their minds as a rich garment would upon their
persons.

Fetissism--the word is derived from the Portuguese feitiço, “a
doing,”--scil. of magic, by euphuism--is still the only faith known in
East Africa. Its origin is easily explained by the aspect of the
physical world, which has coloured the thoughts and has directed the
belief of man: he reflects, in fact, the fantastical and monstrous
character of the animal and vegetable productions around him. Nature, in
these regions rarely sublime or beautiful, more often terrible and
desolate, with the gloomy forest, the impervious jungle, the tangled
hill, and the dread uniform waste tenanted by deadly inhabitants,
arouses in his mind a sensation of utter feebleness, a vague and
nameless awe. Untaught to recommend himself for protection to a Superior
Being, he addresses himself directly to the objects of his reverence and
awe: he prostrates himself before the sentiment within him, hoping to
propitiate it as he would satisfy a fellow-man. The grand mysteries of
life and death, to him unrevealed and unexplained, the want of a true
interpretation of the admirable phenomena of creation, and the vagaries
and misconceptions of his own degraded imagination, awaken in him ideas
of horror, and people the invisible world with ghost and goblin, demon
and spectrum, the incarnations, as it were, of his own childish fears.
Deepened by the dread of destruction, ever strong in the barbarian
breast, his terror causes him to look with suspicion upon all around
him: “How,” inquires the dying African, “can I alone be ill when others
are well, unless I have been bewitched?” Hence the belief in magical and
supernatural powers in man, which the stronger minded have turned to
their own advantage.

Fetissism is the adoration, or rather the propitiation, of natural
objects, animate and inanimate, to which certain mysterious influences
are attributed. It admits neither god, nor angel, nor devil; it ignores
the very alphabet of revealed or traditionary religion--a creation, a
resurrection, a judgment-day, a soul or a spirit, a heaven or a hell. A
modified practical atheism is thus the prominent feature of the
superstition. Though instinctively conscious of a being above them, the
Africans have as yet failed to grasp the idea: in their feeble minds it
is an embryo rather than a conception--at the best a vague god, without
personality, attributes, or providence. They call that being Mulungu,
the Uhlunga of the Kafirs, and the Utika of the Hottentots. The term,
however, may mean a ghost, the firmament, or the sun; a man will
frequently call himself Mulungu, and even Mulungu Mbaya, the latter word
signifying bad or wicked. In the language of the Wamasai “Ai,” or with
the article “Engai”--the Creator--is feminine, the god and rain being
synonymous.

The Fetiss superstition is African, but not confined to Africa. The
faith of ancient Egypt, the earliest system of profane belief known to
man, with its Triad denoting the various phases and powers of nature,
was essentially fetissist; whilst in the Syrian mind dawned at first the
idea of “Melkart,” a god of earth, and his Baalim, angels, viceregents,
or local deities. But generally the history of religions proves that
when man, whether degraded from primal elevation or elevated from primal
degradation, has progressed a step beyond atheism--the spiritual state
of the lowest savagery--he advances to the modification called
Fetissism, the condition of the infant mind of humanity. According to
the late Col. Van Kennedy, “such expressions as the love and fear of
God never occur in the sacred books of the Hindus.” The ancient Persians
were ignicolists, adoring ethereal fire. Confucius owned that he knew
nothing about the gods, and therefore preferred saying as little as
possible upon the subject. Men, still without tradition or training,
confused the Creator with creation, and ventured not to place the burden
of providence upon a single deity. Slaves to the agencies of material
nature, impressed by the splendours of the heavenly bodies, comforted by
fire and light, persuaded by their familiarity with the habits of wild
beasts that the brute creation and the human claimed a mysterious
affinity, humbled by the terrors of elemental war, and benefitted by
hero and sage,--

  “Quicquid humus, pelagus, cœlum mirabile gignunt,
   Id duxere deos.”

The barbarian worshipped these visible objects not as types, myths,
divine emanations, or personifications of a deity: he adored them for
themselves. The modern theory, the mode in which full-grown man explains
away the follies of his childhood, making the interpretation precede the
fable, fails when tested by experience. The Hindu, and, indeed, the
ignorant Christian, still adore the actual image of man and beast; it is
unreasonable to suppose that they kneel before and worship with heart
and soul its metaphysics; and an attempt to allegorise it, or to deprive
it of its specific virtues, would be considered, as in ancient Greece
and Rome, mere impiety.

By its essence, then, Fetissism is a rude and sensual superstition, the
faith of abject fear, and of infant races that have not risen, and are,
perhaps, incapable of rising to theism--the religion of love and the
belief of the highest types of mankind. But old creeds die hard, and
error, founded upon the instincts and feelings of human nature borrows
the coherence and uniformity of truth. That Fetissism is a belief common
to man in the childhood of his spiritual life, may be proved by the
frequent and extensive remains of the faith which the cretinism of the
Hamitic race has perpetuated amongst them to the present day, still
sprouting like tares even in the fair field of revealed religion. The
dread of ghosts, for instance, which is the mainstay of Fetissism, is
not inculcated in any sacred book, yet the belief is not to be
abolished. Thus the Rakshasa of the Hindus is a disembodied spirit,
doing evil to mankind; and the ghost of the prophet Samuel, raised by
the familiar of the Witch of Endor, was the immortal part of a mortal
being, still connected with earth, and capable of returning to it.
Through the Manes, the Umbra, and the Spectrum of the ancients, the
belief has descended to the moderns, as the household words ghost,
goblin, and bogle, revenant, polter-geist, and spook, Duh, Dusha, and
Dukh attest. Precisely similar to the African ghost-faith is the old
Irish belief in Banshees, Pookas, and other evil entities; the corporeal
frame of the dead forms other bodies, but the spirit hovers in the air,
watching the destiny of friends, haunting houses, killing children,
injuring cattle, and causing disease and destruction. Everywhere, too,
their functions are the same: all are malevolent to the living, and they
are seldom known to do good. The natural horror and fear of death which
may be observed even in the lower animals has caused the dead to be
considered vindictive and destructive.

Some missionaries have detected in the habit, which prevails throughout
Eastern and Western Africa, of burying slaves with the deceased, of
carrying provisions to graves, and of lighting fires on cold nights near
the last resting-places of the departed, a continuation of relations
between the quick and the dead which points to a belief in a future
state of existence. The wish is father to that thought: the doctrine of
the soul, of immortality, belongs to a superior order of mind, to a more
advanced stage of society. The belief, as its operations show, is in
presentity, materialism, not in futurity, spiritualism. According to the
ancients, man is a fourfold being:--

  “Bis duo sunt homini, manes, caro, spiritus, umbra:
     Quatuor hæc loci bis duo suscipiunt
   Terra tegit carnem, tumulum circumvolitat umbra,
     Manes Orcus habet, spiritus astra petit.”

Take away the Manes and the astral Spirit, and remains the African
belief in the ειδωλον or Umbra, spiritus, or ghost. When the savage and
the barbarian are asked what has become of the “old people” (their
ancestors), over whose dust and ashes they perform obsequies, these
veritable secularists only smile and reply Wáme-kwisha, “they are
ended.” It proves the inferior organisation of the race. Even the North
American aborigines, a race which Nature apparently disdains to
preserve, decided that man hath a future, since even Indian corn is
vivified and rises again. The East African has created of his fears a
ghost which never attains the perfect form of a soul. This inferior
development has prevented his rising to the social status of the Hindu,
and other anciently civilised races, whom a life wholly wanting in
purpose and occupation drove from the excitement necessary to stimulate
the mind towards a hidden or mysterious future. These wild races seek
otherwise than in their faith a something to emotionise and to agitate
them.

The East African’s Credenda--it has not arrived at the rank of a system,
this vague and misty dawning of a creed--are based upon two main
articles. The first is demonology, or, rather, the existence of Koma,
the spectra of the dead; the second is Uchawi, witchcraft or black
magic, a corollary to the principal theorem. Few, and only the tribes
adjacent to the maritime regions, have derived from El Islam a faint
conception of the one Supreme. There is no trace in this country of the
ancient and modern animal-worship of Egypt and India, though travellers
have asserted that vestiges of it exist amongst the kindred race of
Kafirs. The African has no more of Sabæism than what belongs to the
instinct of man: he has a reverence for the sun and moon, the latter is
for evident reasons in higher esteem, but he totally ignores
star-worship. If questioned concerning his daily bread, he will point
with a devotional aspect towards the light of day; and if asked what
caused the death of his brother, will reply Jua, or Rimwe, the sun. He
has not, like the Kafir, a holiday at the epoch of new moon: like the
Moslem, however, on first seeing it, he raises and claps his hands in
token of obeisance. The Mzimo, or Fetiss hut, is the first germ of a
temple, and the idea is probably derived from the Kurban of the Arabs.
It is found throughout the country, especially in Uzaramo, Unyamwezi,
and Karagwah. It is in the shape of a dwarf house, one or two feet high,
with a thatched roof, but without walls. Upon the ground, or suspended
from the roof, are handfuls of grain and small pots full of beer, placed
there to propitiate the ghosts, and to defend the crops from injury.

A prey to base passions and melancholy godless fears, the Fetissist,
who peoples with malevolent beings the invisible world, animates
material nature with evil influences. The rites of his dark and deadly
superstition are all intended to avert evils from himself, by
transferring them to others: hence the witchcraft and magic which flow
naturally from the system of demonology. Men rarely die without the wife
or children, the kindred or slaves, being accused of having compassed
their destruction by “throwing the glamour over them;” and, as has been
explained, the trial and the conviction are of the most arbitrary
nature. Yet witchcraft is practised by thousands with the firmest
convictions in their own powers; and though frightful tortures await the
wizard and the witch who have been condemned for the destruction of
chief or elder, the vindictiveness of the negro drives him readily to
the malevolent practices of sorcery. As has happened in Europe and
elsewhere, in the presence of torture and the instant advance of death,
the sorcerer and sorceress will not only confess, but even boast of and
believe in, their own criminality. “Verily I slew such a one!--I brought
about the disease of such another!”--these are their demented vaunts,
the offspring of mental imbecility, stimulated by traditional
hallucination.

In this state of spiritual death there is, as may be imagined, but
little of the fire of fanaticism: polemics are as unknown as politics to
them; their succedaneum for a god is not a jealous god. But upon the
subjects of religious belief and revelation all men are equal: Davus
becomes Œdipus, the fool is as the sage. What the “I” believes, that the
“Thou” must acknowledge, under the pains and penalties of offending
Self-esteem. Whilst the African’s faith is weakly catholic, he will not
admit that other men are wiser on this point than himself. Yet he will
fast like a Moslem, because doing something seems to raise him in the
scale of creation. His mind, involved in the trammels of his
superstition, and enchained by custom, is apparently incapable of
receiving the impressions of El Islam. His Fetissism, unspiritualised by
the philosophic Pantheism and Polytheism of Europe and Asia, has
hitherto unfitted him for that belief which was readily accepted by the
more Semitic maritime races, the Somal, the Wasawahili, and the Wamrima.
To a certain extent, also, it has been the policy of the Arab to avoid
proselytising, which would lead to comparative equality: for sordid
lucre the Moslem has left the souls of these Kafirs to eternal
perdition. According to most doctors of the saving faith, an ardent
proselytiser might convert by the sword whole tribes, though he might
not succeed with individuals, who cannot break through the ties of
society. The “Mombas Mission,” however, relying upon the powers of
persuasion, unequivocally failed, and pronounced their flock to be “not
behind the greatest infidels and scoffers of Europe: they blaspheme, in
fact, like children.” With characteristic want of veneration they would
say, “Your Lord is a bad master, for he does not cure his servants.”
When an early convert died, the Wanyika at once decided that there is no
Saviour, as he does not prevent the decease of a friend. The sentiment
generally elicited by a discourse upon the subject of the existence of a
Deity is a desire to see him, in order to revenge upon him the deaths of
relatives, friends, and cattle.[17]

  [17] That the Western African negro resembles in this point his
  negroid brother, the following extract from an amusing and truthful
  little volume, entitled “Trade and Travels in the Gulf of Guinea and
  Western Africa” (London: Simpkin and Marshall, 1851), will prove:--

  Always anxious,--says Mr. J. Smith, the author,--to get any of them
  (the Western Africans) to talk about God and religion, I said, “What
  have you been doing King Pepple?”

  “All the same as you do,--I tank God.”

  “For what?”

  “Every good ting God sends me.”

  “Have you seen God?”

  “Chi! no;--suppose man see God, he must die one minute.” (He would die
  in a moment.)

  “When you die won’t you see God?”

  With great warmth, “I know no savvy. (I don’t know.) How should I
  know? Never mind. I no want to hear more for that palaver.” (I want no
  more talk on that subject.)

  “What way?” (Why?)

  “It no be your business, you come here for trade palaver.”

  I knew--resumes Mr. Smith--it would be of no use pursuing the subject
  at that time, so I was silent, and it dropped for the moment.

  In speaking of him dying, I had touched a very tender and disagreeable
  chord, for he looked very savage and sulky, and I saw by the rapid
  changes in his countenance that he was the subject of some intense
  internal emotion. At length he broke out, using most violent
  gesticulations, and exhibiting a most inhuman expression of
  countenance, “Suppose God was here, I must kill him, one minute!”

  “You what? you kill God?” followed I, quite taken aback, and almost
  breathless with the novel and diabolical notion; “You kill God? why,
  you talk all some fool” (like a fool); “you cannot kill God; and
  suppose it possible that God could die, everything would cease to
  exist. He is the Spirit of the universe. But he can kill you.”

  “I know I cannot kill him; but suppose I could kill him, I would.”

  “Where does God live?”

  “For top.”

  “How?” He pointed to the zenith.

  “And suppose you could, why would you kill him?”

  “Because he makes men to die.”

  “Why, my friend,” in a conciliatory manner, “you would not wish to
  live for ever, would you?”

  “Yes, I want to stand” (remain for ever).

  “But you will be old by and by, and if you live long enough, will
  become very infirm, like that old man,” pointing to a man very old for
  an African and thin, and lame, and almost blind, who had come into the
  court during the foregoing conversation, to ask for some favour (I
  wonder he had not been destroyed),--“and like him you will become
  lame, and deaf, and blind, and will be able to take no pleasure; would
  it not be better, then, for you to die when this takes place, and you
  are in pain and trouble, and so make room for your son, as your father
  did for you?”

  “No, it would not; I want to stand all same I stand now.”

  “But supposing you should go to a place of happiness after death
  and----”

  “I no savvy nothing about that, I know that I now live, and have too
  many wives, and niggers (slaves), and canoes,” (he did not mean what
  he said, in saying he had too many wives, &c., it is their way of
  expressing a great number,) “and that I am king, and plenty of ships
  come to my country. I know no other ting, and I want to stand.”

  I offered a reply, but he would hear no more, and so the conversation
  on that subject ceased; and we proceeded to discuss one not much more
  agreeable to him--the payment of a very considerable debt which he
  owed me.

Fetissism supplies an abundance of professionally holy men. The “Mfumo”
is translated by the Arabs Bassar, a seer or clairvoyant. The Mchawi is
the Sahhar, magician, or adept in the black art. Amongst the Wazegura
and the Wasagara is the Mgonezi, a word Arabised into Rammal or
Geomantist. He practises the Miramoro, or divination and prediction of
fray and famine, death and disease, by the relative position of small
sticks, like spilikins, cast at random on the ground. The “rain-maker,”
or “rain-doctor” of the Cape, common throughout these tribes, and
extending far north of the equator, is called in East Africa Mganga, in
the plural Waganga: the Arabs term him Tabib, doctor or physician.

The Mganga, in the central regions termed Mfumo, may be considered as
the rude beginning of a sacerdotal order. These drones, who swarm
throughout the land, are of both sexes: the women, however, generally
confine themselves to the medical part of the profession. The calling is
hereditary, the eldest or the cleverest son begins his neoteric
education at an early age, and succeeds to his father’s functions. There
is little mystery in the craft, and the magicians of Unyamwezi have not
refused to initiate some of the Arabs. The power of the Mganga is great:
he is treated as a sultan, whose word is law, and as a giver of life and
death. He is addressed by a kingly title, and is permitted to wear the
chieftain’s badge, made of the base of a conical shell. He is also known
by a number of small greasy and blackened gourds, filled with physic and
magic, hanging round his waist, and by a little more of the usual
grime--sanctity and dirt being connected in Africa as elsewhere. These
men are sent for from village to village, and receive as obventions and
spiritual fees sheep and goats, cattle and provisions. Their persons,
however, are not sacred, and for criminal acts they are punished like
other malefactors. The greatest danger to them is an excess of fame. A
celebrated magician rarely, if ever, dies a natural death: too much is
expected from him, and a severer disappointment leads to consequences
more violent than usual. The Arabs deride their pretensions, comparing
them depreciatingly to the workers of Simiya, or conjuration, in their
own country. They remark that the wizard can never produce rain in the
dry, or avert it in the wet season. The many, however, who, to use a
West African phrase, have “become black” from a long residence in the
country, acquire a sneaking belief in the Waganga, and fear of their
powers. The well-educated classes in Zanzibar consult these heathen, as
the credulous of other Eastern countries go to the astrologer and
geomantist, and in Europe to the clairvoyant and the tireuse de cartes.
In one point this proceeding is wise: the wizard rarely wants wits; and
whatever he has heard secretly or openly will inevitably appear in the
course of his divination.

It must not be supposed, however, that the Mganga is purely an impostor.
To deceive others thoroughly a man must first deceive himself, otherwise
he will be detected by the least discerning. This is the simple secret
of so many notable successes, achieved in the most unpromising causes by
self-reliance and enthusiasm, the parents of energy and consistence.
These barbarians are more often sinned against by their own fears and
fooleries of faith, than sinners against their fellow-men by fraud and
falsehood.

The office of Uganga includes many duties. The same man is a physician
by natural and supernatural means, a mystagogue or medicine-man, a
detector of sorcery, by means of the Judicium Dei or ordeal, a
rain-maker, a conjuror, an augur, and a prophet.

As a rule, all diseases, from a boil to marasmus senilis, are attributed
by the Fetissist to P’hepo, Hubub, or Afflatus. The three words are
synonymous. P’hepo, in Kisawahili, is the plural form of upepo (a
zephyr), used singularly to signify a high wind, a whirlwind (“devil”),
and an evil ghost, generally of a Moslem. Hubub, the Arabic translation,
means literally the blowing of wind, and metaphorically “possession.”
The African phrase for a man possessed is “ana p’hepo,” “he has a
devil.” The Mganga is expected to heal the patient by expelling the
possession. Like the evil spirit in the days of Saul, the unwelcome
visitant must be charmed away by sweet music; the drums cause
excitement, and violent exercise expels the ghost, as saltation
nullifies in Italy the venom of the tarantula. The principal remedies
are drumming, dancing, and drinking, till the auspicious moment arrives.
The ghost is then enticed from the body of the possessed into some
inanimate article, which he will condescend to inhabit. This,
technically called a Keti, or stool, may be a certain kind of bead, two
or more bits of wood bound together by a strip of snake’s skin, a lion’s
or a leopard’s claw, and other similar articles, worn round the head,
the arm, the wrist, or the ankle. Paper is still considered great
medicine by the Wasukuma and other tribes, who will barter valuable
goods for a little bit: the great desideratum of the charm, in fact,
appears to be its rarity, or the difficulty of obtaining it. Hence also
the habit of driving nails into and hanging rags upon trees. The
vegetable itself is not worshipped, as some Europeans who call it the
“Devil’s tree” have supposed: it is merely the place for the laying of
ghosts, where by appending the Keti most acceptable to the spectrum, he
will be bound over to keep the peace with man. Several accidents in the
town of Zanzibar have confirmed even the higher orders in their lurking
superstition. Mr. Peters, an English merchant, annoyed by the slaves who
came in numbers to hammer nails and to hang iron hoops and rags upon a
“Devil’s tree” in his courtyard, ordered it to be cut down, to the
horror of all the black beholders, of whom no one would lay an axe to
it. Within six months five persons died in that house--Mr. Peters, his
two clerks, his cooper, and his ship’s carpenter. This superstition will
remind the traveller of the Indian Pipul (Ficus religiosa), in which
fiends are supposed to roost, and suggest to the Orientalist an
explanation of the mysterious Moslem practices common from Western
Africa to the farthest East. The hanging of rags upon trees by pilgrims
and travellers is probably a relic of Arab Fetissism, derived in the
days of ignorance from their congeners in East Africa. The custom has
spread far and wide: even the Irish peasantry have been in the habit of
suspending to the trees and bushes near their “holy wells” rags,
halters, and spancels, in token of gratitude for their recovery, or that
of their cattle.

There are other mystical means of restoring the sick to health; one
specimen will suffice. Several little sticks, like matches, are daubed
with ochre, and marks are made with them upon the patient’s body. A
charm is chanted, the possessed one responds, and at the end of every
stave an evil spirit flies from him, the signal being a stick cast by
the Mganga upon the ground. Some unfortunates have as many as a dozen
haunting ghosts, each of which has his own periapt: the Mganga demands a
distinct honorarium for the several expulsions. Wherever danger is, fear
will be; wherever fear is, charms and spells, exorcisms and talismans of
portentous powers will be in demand; and wherever supernaturalisms are
in requisition, men will be found, for a consideration, to supply them.

These strange rites are to be explained upon the principle which
underlies thaumaturgy in general: they result from conviction in a gross
mass of exaggerations heaped by ignorance, falsehood, and credulity,
upon the slenderest foundation of fact--a fact doubtless solvable by the
application of natural laws. The African temperament has strong
susceptibilities, combined with what appears to be a weakness of brain,
and great excitability of the nervous system, as is proved by the
prevalence of epilepsy, convulsions, and hysteric disease. According to
the Arab, El Sara, epilepsy, or the falling sickness, is peculiarly
common throughout East Africa; and, as we know by experience in lands
more civilised, the sudden prostration, rigidity, contortions, &c. of
the patient, strongly suggest the idea that he has been taken and seized
(επιληφθεις) by, as it were, some external and invisible agent. The
negroid is, therefore, peculiarly liable to the epidemical mania called
“Phantasmata,” which, according to history, has at times of great
mental agitation and popular disturbance broken out in different parts
of Europe, and which, even in this our day, forms the basework of
“revivals.” Thus in Africa the objective existence of spectra has become
a tenet of belief. Stories that stagger the most sceptical are told
concerning the phenomenon by respectable and not unlearned Arabs, who
point to their fellow-countrymen as instances. Salim bin Rashid, a
half-caste merchant, well known at Zanzibar, avers, and his companions
bear witness to his words, that on one occasion, when travelling
northwards from Unyanyembe, the possession occurred to himself. During
the night two female slaves, his companions, of whom one was a child,
fell, without apparent cause, into the fits which denote the approach of
a spirit. Simultaneously, the master became as one intoxicated; a dark
mass, material, not spiritual, entered the tent, and he felt himself
pulled and pushed by a number of black figures, whom he had never before
seen. He called aloud to his companions and slaves, who, vainly
attempting to enter the tent, threw it down, and presently found him in
a state of stupor, from which he did not recover till the morning. The
same merchant circumstantially related, and called witnesses to prove,
that a small slave-boy, who was produced on the occasion, had been
frequently carried off by possession, even when confined in a windowless
room, with a heavy door carefully bolted and padlocked. Next morning the
victim was not found, although the chamber remained closed. A few days
afterwards he was met in the jungle wandering absently like an idiot,
and with speech too incoherent to explain what had happened to him. The
Arabs of Oman, who subscribe readily to transformation, deride these
tales; those of African blood believe them. The transformation-belief,
still so common in Maskat, Abyssinia, Somaliland, and the Cape, and
anciently an almost universal superstition, is, curious to say, unknown
amongst these East African tribes. The Wahiao, lying between Kilwa and
the Nyassa Lake, preserve, however, a remnant of the old creed in their
conviction, that a malevolent magician can change a man after death into
a lion, a leopard, or a hyæna. On the Zambezi the people, according to
Dr. Livingstone (chap. xxx.), believe that a chief may metamorphose
himself into a lion, kill any one he chooses, and then return to the
human form. About Tete (chap. xxxi.) the negroids hold that, “while
persons are still living, they may enter into lions and alligators, and
then return again to their own bodies.” Travellers determined to find in
Africa counterparts of European and Asiatic tenets, argue from this
transformation a belief in the “transmigration of souls.” They thus
confuse material metamorphosis with a spiritual progress, which is
assuredly not an emanation from the Hamitic mind. The Africans have
hitherto not bewildered their brains with metaphysics, and, ignoring the
idea of a soul, which appears to be a dogma of the Caucasian race, they
necessarily ignore its immortality.

The second, and, perhaps, the most profitable occupation of the Mganga,
is the detection of Uchawi, or black magic. The fatuitous style of
conviction, and the fearful tortures which, in the different regions,
await those found guilty, have already been described, as far as
description is possible. Amongst a people where the magician is a police
detector, ordeals must be expected to thrive. The Baga or Kyapo of East
Africa--the Arabs translate it El Halaf, or the Oath--is as cruel,
absurd, and barbarous, as the red water of Ashanti, the venoms of
Kasanji (Cassange), the muavi of the Banyai tribes of Monomotapa, the
Tangina poison of the Malagash, the bitter water of the Jews, the
“saucy-water” of West Africa, and the fire tests of mediæval Europe. The
people of Usumbara thrust a red-hot hatchet into the mouth of the
accused. Among the south-eastern tribes a heated iron spike, driven into
some tender part of the person, is twice struck with a log of wood. The
Wazaramo dip the hand into boiling water, the Waganda into seething oil;
and the Wazegura prick the ear with the stiffest bristles of a gnu’s
tail. The Wakwafi have an ordeal of meat that chokes the guilty. The
Wanyamwezi pound with water between two stones, and infuse a poisonous
bark called “Mwavi:” it is first administered by the Mganga to a hen,
who, for the nonce, represents the suspected. If, however, all parties
be not satisfied with such trial, it is duly adhibited to the accused.

In East Africa, from Somaliland to the Cape, and throughout the interior
amongst the negroids and negroes north as well as south of the equator,
the rain-maker or rain-doctor is a personage of consequence; and he does
not fail to turn the hopes and fears of the people to his own advantage.
A season of drought causes dearth, disease, and desolation amongst these
improvident races, who therefore connect every strange phenomenon with
the object of their desires, a copious wet monsoon. The enemy has
medicines which disperse the clouds. The stranger who brings with him
heavy showers is regarded as a being of good omen; usually, however, the
worst is expected from the novel portent; he will, for instance, be
accompanied and preceded by fertilising rains, but the wells and springs
will dry up after his departure, and the result will be drought or
small-pox. These rumours which may account for the Lybian
stranger-sacrifices in the olden time, are still dangerous to
travellers. The Mganga must remedy the evil. His spells are those of
fetissists in general, the mystic use of something foul, poisonous, or
difficult to procure, such as the album græcum of hyænas, snakes’ fangs,
or lions’ hair; these and similar articles are collected with
considerable trouble by the young men of the tribe for the use of the
rain-maker. But he is a weatherwise man, and rains in tropical lands are
easily foreseen. Not unfrequently, however, he proves himself a false
prophet; and when all the resources of cunning fail he must fly for dear
life from the victims of his delusion.

The Mganga is also a predictor and a soothsayer. He foretels the
success or failure of commercial undertakings, of wars, and of
kidnapping-commandos; he foresees famine and pestilence, and he suggests
the means of averting calamities. He fixes also, before the commencement
of any serious affair, fortunate conjunctions, without which a good
issue cannot be expected. He directs expiatory offerings. His word is
ever powerful to expedite or to delay the march of a caravan; and in his
quality of augur he considers the flight of birds and the cries of
beasts, like his prototype of the same class in ancient Europe and in
modern Asia.

The principal instrument of the Mganga’s craft is one of the dirty
little buyu or gourds which he wears in a bunch round his waist; and the
following is the usual programme when the oracle is to be consulted. The
magician brings his implements in a bag of matting; his demeanour is
serious as the occasion; he is carefully greased, and his head is
adorned with the diminutive antelope-horns fastened by a thong of
leather above the forehead. He sits like a sultan upon a dwarf stool in
front of the querist, and begins by exhorting the highest possible
offertory. No pay, no predict. Divination by the gourd has already been
described; the Mganga has many other implements of his craft. Some
prophesy by the motion of berries swimming in a cup full of water, which
is placed upon a low stool surrounded by four tails of the zebra or the
buffalo lashed to sticks planted upright in the ground. The Kasanda is a
system of folding triangles not unlike those upon which plaything
soldiers are mounted. Held in the right hand, it is thrown out, and the
direction of the end points to the safe and auspicious route; this is
probably the rudest appliance of prestidigitation. The shero is a bit of
wood about the size of a man’s hand, and not unlike a pair of bellows,
with a dwarf handle, a projection like a nozzle, and in the circular
centre a little hollow. This is filled with water, and a grain or
fragment of wood, placed to float, gives an evil omen if it tends
towards the sides, and favourable if it veers towards the handle or the
nozzle. The Mganga generally carries about with him to announce his
approach a kind of rattle called “sánje.” This is a hollow gourd of
pine-apple shape, pierced with various holes, prettily carved and half
filled with maize, grains, and pebbles; the handle is a stick passed
through its length and secured by cross-pins.

The Mganga has many minor duties. In elephant hunts he must throw the
first spear and endure the blame if the beast escapes. He marks ivory
with spots disposed in lines and other figures, and thus enables it to
reach the coast without let or hindrance. He loads the kirangozi or
guide with charms and periapts to defend him from the malice which is
ever directed at a leading man, and sedulously forbids him to allow
precedence even to the Mtongi, the commander and proprietor of the
caravan. He aids his tribe by magical arts in wars, by catching a bee,
reciting over it certain incantations, and loosing it in the direction
of the foe, when the insect will instantly summon an army of its fellows
and disperse a host, however numerous. This belief well illustrates the
easy passage of the natural into the supernatural. The land being full
of swarms, and man’s body being wholly exposed, many a caravan has been
dispersed like chaff before the wind by a bevy of swarming bees.
Similarly in South Africa the magician kicks an ant-hill and starts
wasps which put the enemy to flight. And in the books of the Hebrews we
read that the hornet sent before the children of Israel against the
Amorite was more terrible than sword or bow. (Joshua, xxiv.)

The several tribes in East Africa present two forms of government, the
despotic and the semi-monarchical.

In the despotic races, the Wakilima or mountaineers of Chhaga, for
instance, the subjects are reduced to the lowest state of servility.
All, except the magicians and the councillors, are “Wasoro”--soldiers
and slaves to the sultan, mangi, or sovereign. The reader will bear in
mind that the word “sultan” is the Arabic term applied generically by
traders to all the reguli and roitelets, the chiefs and headmen, whose
titles vary in every region. In Uzaramo the Sultan is called p’hazi; in
Khutu, p’hazi or mundewa; in Usagara, mundewa; in Ugogo, mteme; in
Unyamwezi, mwami; in Ujiji and Karagwah, mkama. “Wazir” is similarly
used by the Arabs for the principal councillor or minister, whose
African name in the several tribes is mwene goha, mbáhá, mzágírá,
magáwe, mhángo, and muhinda. The elders are called throughout the
country Wagosi and Wányáp’hárá; they form the council of the chief. All
male children are taken from their mothers, are made to live together,
and are trained to the royal service, to guarding the palace, to tilling
the fields, and to keeping the watercourses in order. The despot is
approached with fear and trembling; subjects of both sexes must stand at
a distance, and repeatedly clap their palms together before venturing to
address him. Women always bend the right knee to the earth, and the
chief acknowledges the salutation with a nod. At times the elders and
even the women inquire of the ruler what they can do to please him: he
points to a plot of ground which he wishes to be cleared, and this
_corvée_ is the more carefully performed, as he fines them in a bullock
if a weed be left unplucked. In war female captives are sold by the
king, and the children are kept to swell the number of his slaves. None
of the Wasoro may marry without express permission. The king has
unlimited power of life and death, which he exercises without
squeamishness, and a general right of sale over his subjects; in some
tribes, as those of Karagwah, Uganda, and Unyoro, he is almost
worshipped. It is a capital offence to assume the name of a Sultan; even
a stranger so doing would be subjected to fines and other penalties. The
only limit to the despot’s power is the Ada, or precedent, the unwritten
law of ancient custom, which is here less mutable than the codes and
pandects of Europe. The African, like the Asiatic, is by nature a
conservative, at once the cause and the effect of his inability to rise
higher in the social scale. The king lives in a manner of barbarous
state. He has large villages crowded with his families and slaves. He
never issues from his abode without an armed mob, and he disdains to
visit even the wealthiest Arabs. The monarchical tribes are legitimists
of the good old school, disdaining a _novus homo_; and the consciousness
of power invests their princes with a certain dignity and majesty of
demeanour. As has been mentioned, some of the Sultans whose rule has the
greatest prestige, appear, from physical peculiarities, to be of a
foreign and a nobler origin.

In the aristocratical or semi-monarchical tribes, as the Wanyamwezi, the
power of the Sultan depends mainly upon his wealth, importance, and
personal qualifications for the task of rule. A chief enabled to carry
out a “fist-right” policy will raise himself to the rank of a despot,
and will slay and sell his subjects without mercy. Though surrounded by
a council varying from two to a score of chiefs and elders, who are
often related or connected with him, and who, like the Arab shaykhs,
presume as much as possible in ordering this and forbidding that, he can
disregard and slight them. More often, however, his authority is
circumscribed by a rude balance of power; the chiefs around him can
probably bring as many warriors into the field as he can. When weak, the
sultan has little more authority than the patell of an Indian village or
the shaykh of a Bedouin tribe. Yet even when the chief cannot command in
his own clan, he is an important personage to travelling merchants and
strangers. He can cause a quarrel, an advance, or an assassination, and
he can quiet brawls even when his people have been injured. He can open
a road by providing porters, or bar a path by deterring a caravan from
proceeding, or by stopping the sale of provisions. Thus it is easy to
travel amongst races whose chiefs are well disposed to foreigners, and
the utmost circumspection becomes necessary when the headmen are
grasping and inhospitable. Upon the whole, the chiefs are wise enough
to encourage the visits of traders.

A patriarchal or purely republican form of government is unknown in East
Africa. The Wasagara, it is true, choose their chief like the Banyai of
“Monomotapa,” but, once elected, he becomes a monarch. Loyalty--or, to
reduce it to its elements, veneration for the divinity that hedges in a
king--is a sentiment innate in the African mind. Man, however, in these
regions is not a political animal; he has a certain instinctive regard
for his chief and a respect for his elders. He ignores, however, the
blessings of duly limited independence and the natural classification of
humanity into superior and inferior, and honours--the cheap pay of
nations--are unknown. He acknowledges no higher and lower social strata.
His barbarism forbids the existence of a learned oligarchy, of an
educated community, or of a church and state, showing the origin of the
connection between the soul and body of society. Man being equal to man,
force being the only law and self the sole consideration, mutual
jealousy prevents united efforts and deadens all patriotic spirit. No
one cares for the public good; the welfare of the general must yield to
the most contemptible individual interests; civil order and security are
therefore unknown, and foreign relations cannot exist.

In the lowest tribes the chieftain is a mere nonentity, “a Sultan,” as
the Arabs say, “within his own walls.” His subjects will boast, like the
Somal, that he is “_tanquam unus ex nobis_;” and they are so sensible of
restraint that “girdles and garters would be to them bonds and shackles”
metaphorically as well as literally. The position of these Sultans is
about equal to that of the diwans of the Mrima; their dignity is
confined to sitting upon a dwarf three-legged stool, to wearing more
brass wire than beads, and to possessing clothes a little better than
those of their subjects. The “regulus” must make a return present to
strangers after receiving their offerings, and in some cases must begin
with gifts. He must listen to the words of his councillors and elders,
who, being without salary, claim a portion of the presents and
treasure-trove, interfere on all occasions of blackmail, fines, and
penalties, demand from all petitioners gifts and bribes to secure
interest, and exert great influence over the populace.

Legitimacy is the rule throughout the land, and the son, usually the
eldest, succeeds to the father, except amongst the Wasukuma of N.
Unyamwezi, where the line of descent is by the sister’s son--the “surer
side”--for the normal reason, to secure some of the blood royal for
ruling. Even the widows of the deceased become the property of the
successor. This truly African practice prevails also amongst the
Bachwana, and presents another of those curious points of resemblance
between the Hamite and Semite races which have induced modern
ethnologists to derive the Arab from Africa. The curious custom amongst
the Wanyamwezi of devising property to illegitimate children is not
carried out in the succession to power. Where there are many sons, all,
as might be expected, equally aspire to power; sometimes, however, of
two brothers, one will consent to hold authority under the other. In
several tribes, especially in Usukuma, the widow of a chief succeeds to
his dignity in default of issue.

Punishments are simple in East Africa. The sar, vendetta or blood-feud,
and its consequence, the diyat or weregeld, exist in germ, unreduced, as
amongst the more civilised Arabs, to an artful and intricate system.
But these customs are founded, unlike ours, upon barbarous human nature.
Instinct prompts a man to slay the slayer of his kith and kin; the
offence is against the individual, not the government or society. He
must reason to persuade himself that the crime, being committed against
the law, should be left to the law for notice; he wants revenge, and he
cares nought for punishment or example for the prevention of crime. The
Sultan encourages the payment of blood-money to the relatives of the
deceased, or, if powerful enough, claims it himself, rather than that
one murder should lead to another, and eventually to a chronic state of
bloodshed and confusion. Thus, in some tribes the individual revenges
himself, and in others he commits his cause to the chief. Here he takes
an equivalent in cattle for the blood of a brother or the loss of a
wife; there he visits the erring party with condign punishment. The
result of such deficiency of standard is a want of graduation in
severity; a thief is sometimes speared and beheaded, or sold into
slavery after all his property has been extorted by the chief, the
councillors, and the elders, whilst a murderer is perhaps only fined.

The land in East Africa is everywhere allodial; it does not belong to
the ruler, nor has the dawn of the feudal system yet arisen there. A
migratory tribe gives up its rights to the soil, contrary to the
mortmain system of the Arab Bedouins, and, if it would return, it must
return by force. The Sultan, however, exacts a fee from all immigrants
settling in his territory.

The sources of revenue in East Africa are uncertain, desultory, and
complicated. The agricultural tribes pay yearly a small per centage of
grain; this, however, is the office of the women, who are expert in
fraud. Neither sowing nor harvest can take place without the chief’s
permission, and the issue of his order is regulated by his own
interests. Amongst the hunting tribes, slain elephants become the
hunter’s property, but the Sultan claims as treasure-trove a tusk of any
animal found wounded or dead in his dominions, and in all cases the
spoils of dead lions are crown property. The flesh of game is
distributed amongst the elders and the ruling family, who also assert a
claim to the cloth or beads purchased by means of the ivory from
caravans. Some have abditaria and considerable stores of the articles
most valued by barbarians. Throughout the slave-paths the chiefs have
learned to raise revenue from the slaves, who thus bribe them to forbear
from robbery. But whilst the stronger require large gifts without
return, the weaker make trifling presents, generally of cattle or
provisions, and expect many times the value in brass wire, cloth, and
beads. The stranger may refuse these offerings; it is, however, contrary
to custom, and as long as he can afford it he should submit to the
imposition. Fiscs and fines are alarmingly frequent. If the
monsoon-rains delay, the chief summons a Mganga to fix upon the
obstructor; he is at once slain, and his property is duly escheated. The
Sultan claims the goods and chattels of all felons and executed
criminals, even in the case of a servant put to death by his master. In
the more republican tribes the chief lives by the sweat of his slaves.
Briefly, East Africa presents an instructive study of human society in
its first stage after birth.

I will conclude this uninteresting chapter--attribute its dulness,
gentle reader, to the effects of the climate and society of
Konduchi--with a subject which strikes home to the heart of every
Englishman, slavery.

The origin of slavery in East Africa is veiled in the glooms of the
past. It is mentioned in the Periplus (chap. iii.), as an institution of
the land, and probably it was the result of the ancient trade with
southern Arabia. At present it is almost universal: with the exceptions
of the Wahinda, the Watosi, and the Wagogo, all the tribes from the
eastern equatorial coast to Ujiji and the regions lying westward of the
Tanganyika Lake may be called slave-races. An Arab, Msawahili, and even
a bondsman from Zanzibar, is everywhere called Murungwana or freeman.
Yet in many parts of the country the tribes are rather slave-importers
than exporters. Although they kidnap others, they will not sell their
fellows, except when convicted of crime--theft, magic, murder, or
cutting the upper teeth before the lower. In times of necessity,
however, a man will part with his parents, wives, and children, and when
they fail he will sell himself without shame. As has been observed,
amongst many tribes the uncle has a right to dispose of his nephews and
nieces.

Justice requires the confession that the horrors of slave-driving rarely
meet the eye in East Africa. Some merchants chain or cord together their
gangs for safer transport through regions where desertion is at a
premium. Usually, however, they trust rather to soft words and kind
treatment; the fat lazy slave is often seen stretched at ease in the
shade, whilst the master toils in the sun and wind. The “property” is
well fed and little worked, whereas the porter, belonging to none but
himself, is left without hesitation to starve upon the road-side. The
relationship is rather that of patron and client than of lord and
bondsman; the slave is addressed as Ndugu-yango, “my brother,” and he is
seldom provoked by hard words or stripes. In fact, the essence of
slavery, compulsory unpaid labour, is perhaps more prevalent in
independent India than in East Africa; moreover, there is no adscriptus
glebæ, as in the horrid thraldom of Malabar. To this general rule there
are terrible exceptions, as might be expected amongst a people with
scant regard for human life. The Kirangozi, or guide, attached to the
Expedition on return from Ujiji, had loitered behind for some days
because his slave girl was too footsore to walk. When tired of waiting
he cut off her head, for fear lest she should become gratis another
man’s property.

In East Africa there are two forms of this traffic, the export and the
internal trade. For the former slaves are collected like ivories
throughout the length and breadth of the land. They are driven down from
the principal depôts, the island of Kasenge, Ujiji, Unyanyembe, and
Zungomero to the coast by the Arab and Wasawahili merchants, who
afterwards sell them in retail at the great mart, Zanzibar. The internal
trade is carried on between tribe and tribe, and therefore will long
endure.

The practice of slavery in East Africa, besides demoralising and
brutalising the race, leads to the results which effectually bar
increase of population and progress towards civilisation. These are
commandos, or border wars, and intestine confusion.

All African wars, it has been remarked, are for one of two objects,
cattle-lifting or kidnapping. Some of the pastoral tribes--as the
Wamasai, the Wakwafi, the Watuta, and the Warori--assert the theory that
none but themselves have a right to possess herds, and that they
received the gift directly from their ancestor who created cattle; in
practice they covet the animals for the purpose of a general gorge.
Slaves, however, are much more frequently the end and aim of feud and
foray. The process of kidnapping, an inveterate custom in these lands,
is in every way agreeable to the mind of the man-hunter. A “_multis
utile bellum_,” it combines the pleasing hazards of the chase with the
exercise of cunning and courage; the battue brings martial glory and
solid profit, and preserves the barbarian from the listlessness of life
without purpose. Thus men date from foray to foray, and pass their days
in an interminable blood-feud and border war. A poor and powerful chief
will not allow his neighbours to rest wealthier than himself; a quarrel
is soon found, the stronger attacks the weaker, hunts and harries his
cattle, burns his villages, carries off his subjects and sells them to
the first passing caravan. The inhabitants of the land have thus become
wolves to one another; their only ambition is to dispeople and destroy,
and the blow thus dealt to a thinly populated country strikes at the
very root of progress and prosperity.

As detrimental to the public interests as the border wars is the
intestine confusion caused by the slave trade. It perpetuates the vile
belief in Uchawi or black magic: when captives are in demand, the
criminal’s relations are sold into slavery. It affords a scope for the
tyranny of a chief, who, if powerful enough, will enrich himself by
vending his subjects in wholesale and retail. By weakening the tie of
family, it acts with deadly effect in preventing the increase of the
race.

On the coast and in the island of Zanzibar the slaves are of two
kinds--the Muwallid or domestic, born in captivity, and the wild slave
imported from the interior.

In the former case the slave is treated as one of the family, because
the master’s comfort depends upon the man being contented; often also
his sister occupies the dignified position of concubine to the head of
the house. These slaves vary greatly in conduct. The most tractable are
those belonging to the Diwans and the Wasawahili generally, who treat
them with the utmost harshness and contempt. The Arabs spoil them by a
kinder usage; few employ the stick, the salib, or cross--a forked pole
to which the neck and ankles are lashed--and the makantale or stocks,
for fear of desertion. Yet the slave if dissatisfied silently leaves the
house, lets himself to another master, and returns after perhaps two
years’ absence as if nothing had occurred. Thus he combines the
advantages of freedom and slavery. Moreover, it is a proverb among the
Arabs that a slave must desert once in his life, and he does so the more
readily as he betters his condition by so doing. The worst in all points
are those belonging to the Banyans, the Indians, and other European
subjects; they know their right to emancipation, and consult only their
own interests and inclinations. The Muwallid or domestic slave is also
used like the Pombeiro of West Africa. From Unyamwezi and Ujiji he is
sent to traffic in the more dangerous regions--the master meanwhile
dwelling amongst his fellow countrymen in some comfortable Tembe. This
proceeding has greatly injured the commerce of the interior, and
necessitates yearly lengthening journeys. The slave intrusted with cloth
and beads suddenly becomes a great man; he is lavish in supporting the
dignity of a fundi or fattore, and consulting nothing but his own
convenience, he will loiter for six months at a place where he has been
sent for a week. Thus it is that ivory sold in Unyamwezi but a dozen
years ago at 10 lbs. for 1 lb. of beads now fetches nearly weight for
weight. And this is a continually increasing evil. No caravan, however,
can safely traverse the interior without an escort of slave-musketeers.
They never part with their weapons, even when passing from house to
house, holding that their lives depend upon their arms; they beg,
borrow, or steal powder and ball; in fact they are seldom found unready.
They will carry nothing but the lightest gear, the master’s
writing-case, bed, or praying-mat; to load them heavily would be to
ensure desertion. Contrary to the practice of the free porter, they
invariably steal when they run away; they are also troublesome about
food, and they presume upon their weapons to take liberties with the
liquor and the women of the heathen.

The imported slaves again are of two different classes. Children are
preferred to adults; they are Islamised and educated so as to resemble
the Muwallid, though they are even somewhat less tame. Full-grown serfs
are bought for predial purposes; they continue indocile, and alter
little by domestication. When not used by the master they are left to
plunder or to let themselves out for food and raiment, and when dead
they are cast into the sea or into the nearest pit. These men are the
scourge of society; no one is safe from their violence; and to preserve
a garden or an orchard from the depredations of the half-starved
wretches, a guard of musketeers would be required. They are never armed,
yet, as has been recounted, they have caused at Zanzibar servile wars,
deadly and lasting as those of ancient Rome.

Arabs declare that the barbarians are improved by captivity--a partial
theory open to doubt. The servum pecus retain in thraldom that wildness
and obstinacy which distinguish the people and the lower animals of
their native lands; they are trapped, but not tamed; they become
captives, but not civilised. However trained, they are probably the
worst servants in the world; a slave-household is a model of discomfort.
The wretches take a trouble and display an ingenuity in opposition and
disobedience, in perversity, annoyance, and villany, which rightly
directed would make them invaluable. The old definition of a slave still
holds good--“an animal that eats as much and does as little as
possible.” Clumsy and unhandy, dirty and careless, he will never labour
unless ordered to do so, and so futile is his nature that even the
inducement of the stick cannot compel him to continue his exertions; a
whole gang will barely do the work of a single servant. He “has no end,”
to use the Arab phrase: that is to say, however well he may begin, he
will presently tire of his task; he does not and apparently he will not
learn; his first impulse, like that of an ass, is not to obey; he then
thinks of obeying; and if fear preponderate he finally may obey. He must
deceive, for fraud and foxship are his force; when detected in some
prodigious act of rascality, he pathetically pleads, “Am I not a slave?”
So wondrous are his laziness and hate of exertion, that despite a high
development of love of life he often appears the most reckless of
mortals. He will run away from the semblance of danger; yet on a journey
he will tie his pipe to a leaky keg of gunpowder, and smoke it in that
position rather than take the trouble to undo it. A slave belonging to
Musa, the Indian merchant at Kazeh, unwilling to rise and fetch a pipe,
opened the pan of his musket, filled it with tobacco and fire, and
beginning to inhale it from the muzzle blew out his brains. Growing
confident and impudent from the knowledge of how far he may safely go,
the slave presumes to the utmost. He steals instinctively, like a
magpie: a case is quoted in which the gold spangles were stripped from
an officer’s sword-belt whilst dining with the Prince of Zanzibar. The
slave is almost always half-naked; whatever clothes he obtains from the
master are pawned or sold in the bazar; hence he must pilfer and plunder
almost openly for the means of gratifying his lowest propensities,
drinking and intrigue. He seems to acquire from captivity a greater
capacity for debauchery than even in his native wilds; he has learned
irregularities unknown to his savage state: it is the brutishness of
negroid nature brought out by the cheap and readily attainable pleasures
of semi-civilisation. Whenever on moonlight nights the tapping of the
tomtom responds to the vile squeaking of the fife, it is impossible to
keep either a male or female slave within doors. All rendezvous at the
place, and, having howled and danced themselves into happiness, conclude
with a singularly disorderly scene. In the town of Zanzibar these
“Ngoma” or dances were prohibited for moral reasons by the late Sayyid.
The attachment of a slave to his master is merely a development of
selfishness; it is a greater insult to abuse the Ahbab (patroon), than,
according to Eastern fashion, the father and mother, the wife and
sister. No slave-owner, however, praises a slave or relies upon his
fidelity. The common expression is, “There is no good in the bondsman.”

Like the Somal, a merry and light-hearted race in foreign countries, but
rendered gloomy and melancholy by the state of affairs at home, the
negroid slaves greatly improve by exportation: they lose much of the
surliness and violence which distinguish them at Zanzibar, and are
disciplined into a kind of respect for superiors. Thus, “Seedy Mubarak”
is a prime favourite on board an Indian steamer; he has also strength
and courage enough to make himself respected. But “Seedy Mubarak” has
tasted the intoxicating draught of liberty, he is in high good humour
with himself and with all around him, he is a slave merely in origin, he
has been adopted into the great family of free men, and with it he has
identified all his interests. Eastern history preserves instances of the
valour and faithfulness of bondsmen, as the annals of the West are fond
of recording the virtues of dogs. Yet all the more civilised races have
a gird at the negro. In the present day the Persians and other Asiatics
are careful, when bound on distant or dangerous journeys, to mix white
servants with black slaves; they hold the African to be full of strange
childish caprices, and to be ever at heart a treacherous and
bloodthirsty barbarian. Like the “bush-negroes” of Surinam, once so
dangerous to the Dutch, the runaway slaves from Zanzibar have formed a
kind of East African Liberia, between Mount Yombo and the Shimba section
of the Eastern Ghauts. They have endangered the direct caravan-road from
Mombasah to Usumbara; and though trespassing upon the territory of the
Mwasagnombe, a sub-clan of the Wadigo, and claimed as subjects by
Abdullah, the son of Sultan Kimwere, they have gallantly held their
ground. According to the Arabs there is another servile republic about
Gulwen, near Brava. Travellers speak with horror of the rudeness,
violence, and cruelty of these self-emancipated slaves; they are said to
be more dangerous even than the Somal, who for wanton mischief and
malice can be compared with nothing but the naughtiest schoolboys in
England.

The serviles at Zanzibar have played their Arab masters some notable
tricks. Many a severe lord has perished by the hand of a slave. Several
have lost their eyes by the dagger’s point during sleep. Curious tales
are told of ingenious servile conspiracy. Mohammed bin Sayf, a Zanzibar
Arab, remarkable for household discipline, was brought to grief by
Kombo, his slave, who stole a basket of nutmegs from the Prince, and,
hiding them in his master’s house, denounced him of theft. Fahl bin
Nasr, a travelling merchant, when passing through Ugogo, nearly lost his
life in consequence of a slave having privily informed the people that
his patroon had been killing crocodiles and preserving their fat for
poison. In both these cases the slaves were not punished; they had
acted, it was believed, according to the true instincts of servile
nature, and chastisement would have caused desertion, not improvement.

As regards the female slaves, the less said about them, from regard to
the sex, the better: they are as deficient in honour as in honesty, in
modesty and decorum as in grace and beauty. No man, even an Arab, deems
the mother of his children chaste, or believes in the legitimacy of his
progeny till proved.

Extensive inquiries into the subject lead to a conviction that it is
impossible to offer any average of the price of slaves. Yet the question
is of importance, as only the immense profit causes men thus to overlook
all considerations of humanity. A few general rules may be safely given.
There is no article, even horse-flesh, that varies so much in
market-value as the human commodity: the absolute worth is small
compared with the wants of the seller and the requirements and the means
of the purchaser. The extremes range from six feet of unbleached
domestics or a few pounds of grain in time of famine, to seventy
dollars, equal to 15_l._ The slaves are cheapest in the interior, on
account of the frequency of desertion: about Unyamwezi they are dearer,
and most expensive in the island of Zanzibar. At the latter place
during the last few years they have doubled in price: according to the
Arabs, who regard the abolition of slavery with feelings of horror, this
increase results from the impediments thrown in the way by the English;
a more probable explanation may be found in the greater cheapness of
money. At Zanzibar the price of a boy under puberty is from fifteen to
thirty dollars. A youth till the age of fifteen is worth a little less.
A man in the prime of life, from twenty-five to forty, fetches from
thirteen to twenty dollars; after that age he may be bought from ten to
thirteen. Educated slaves, fitted for the work of factors, are sold from
twenty-five to seventy dollars, and at fancy prices. The price of
females is everywhere about one-third higher than that of males. At
Zanzibar the ushur or custom-dues vary according to the race of the
slave: the Wahiao, Wangindo, and other serviles imported from Kilwa, pay
one dollar per head, from the Mrima or maritime regions two dollars, and
from Unyamwezi, Ujiji, and the rest of the interior three dollars. At
the central depôt, Unyanyembe, where slaves are considered neither cheap
nor dear, the value of a boy ranges between eight and ten doti or double
cloths; a youth from nine to eleven; a man in prime, from five to ten;
and past his prime from four to six. In some parts of the interior men
are dearer than children under puberty. In the cheapest places, as in
Karagwah and Urori, a boy costs three shukkahs of cloth, and three fundo
or thirty strings of coral beads; a youth from ten to fifteen fundo; a
man in prime from eight to ten; and no one will purchase an old man.
These general notes must not, however, be applied to particular tribes:
as with ivory and other valuable commodities, the amount and the
description of the circulating medium vary at almost every march.

It was asserted by the late Colonel Hamerton, whose local knowledge was
extensive, that the average of yearly import into the island of Zanzibar
was 14,000 head of slaves, the extremes being 9000 and 20,000. The loss
by mortality and desertion is 30 per cent. per annum; thus, the whole
gang must be renewed between the third and fourth year.

By a stretch of power slavery might readily be abolished in the island
of Zanzibar, and in due time, after the first confusion, the measure
would doubtless be found as profitable as it is now unpalatable to the
landed proprietors, and to the commercial body. A “sentimental
squadron,” like the West African, would easily, by means of steam,
prevent any regular exportation to the Asiatic continent. But these
measures would deal only with effects, leaving the causes in full
vigour; they would strike at the bole and branches, the root retaining
sufficient vitality to resume its functions as soon as relieved of the
pressure from without. Neither treaty nor fleet would avail permanently
to arrest the course of slavery upon the seaboard, much less would it
act in the far realms of the interior. At present the African will not
work: the purchase of predial slaves to till and harvest for him is the
great aim of his life. When a more extensive intercourse with the
maritime regions shall beget wants which compel the barbarian, now
contented with doing nothing and having nothing, to that individual
exertion and that mutual dependency which render serfdom a moral
impossibility in the more advanced stages of human society,--when man,
now valueless except to himself, shall become more precious by his
labour than by his sale, in fact an article so expensive that strangers
cannot afford to buy him,--then we may expect to witness the extinction
of the evil. Thus, and thus only can “Rachel, still weeping for her
children,” in the evening of her days, be made happy.

Meanwhile, the philanthropist, who after sowing the good seed has sense
and patience to consign the gathering of the crop to posterity, will
hear with pleasure that the extinction of slavery would be hailed with
delight by the great mass throughout the length and breadth of Eastern
Africa. This people, “robbed and spoiled” by their oppressors, who are
legionary, call themselves “the meat,” and the slave-dealers “the
knife:” they hate and fear their own demon Moloch, but they lack
unanimity to free their necks from his yoke. Africa still “lies in her
blood,” but the progress of human society, and the straiter bonds which
unite man with man, shall eventually rescue her from her old pitiable
fate.

[Illustration: The Bull-headed Mabruki.]

[Illustration: African standing position.]




CONCLUSION.


On the 9th February the Battela and the stores required for our trip
arrived at Konduchi from Zanzibar, and the next day saw us rolling down
the coast, with a fair fresh breeze, towards classic Kilwa, the Quiloa
of De Gama, of Camoens, and of the Portuguese annalists. I shall reserve
an account of this most memorable shore for a future work devoted
especially to the seaboard of Zanzibar--coast and island:--in the
present tale of adventure the details of a _cabotage_ would be out of
place. Suffice it to say that we lost nearly all our crew by the
cholera, which, after ravaging the eastern coast of Arabia and Africa,
and the islands of Zanzibar and Pemba, had almost depopulated the
southern settlements on the mainland. We were unable to visit the course
of the great Rufiji River, a counterpart of the Zambezi in the south,
and a water-road which appears destined to become the highway of nations
into Eastern equatorial Africa. No man dared to take service on board
the infected vessel; the Hindu Banyans, who directed the Copal trade of
the river regions aroused against us the chiefs of the interior;
moreover, the stream was in flood, overflowing its banks, and its line
appeared marked by heavy purple clouds, which discharged a deluge of
rain. Convinced that the travelling season was finished, I turned the
head of the Battela northwards, and on the 4th March, 1859, after a
succession of violent squalls and pertinacious calms, we landed once
more upon the island of Zanzibar.

Sick and way-worn I entered the house connected in memory with an old
friend, not without a feeling of sorrow for the change--I was fated to
regret it even more. The excitement of travel was succeeded by an utter
depression of mind and body: even the labour of talking was too great,
and I took refuge from society in a course of French novels _à vingt
sous la pièce_.

Yet I had fallen upon stirring times: the little state, at the epoch of
my return, was in the height of confusion. His Highness the Sayyid
Suwayni, Suzerain of Maskat, seizing the pretext of a tribute owed to
him by his cadet brother of Zanzibar, had embarked, on the 11th
February, 1859, a host of Bedouin brigands upon four or five
square-rigged ships and many Arab craft: with this power he was
preparing a hostile visit to the island. The Baloch stations on the
mainland were drained of mercenaries, and 7000 muskets, with an amount
of ammunition, which rendered the town dangerous, were served out to
slaves and other ruffians. Dows from Hadramaut brought down armed
adventurers, who were in the market to fight for the best pay. The
turbulent Harisi chiefs of Zanzibar were terrified into siding with his
Highness the Sayyid Majid by the influence of H. M. consul, Captain
Rigby. But the representatives of the several Christian powers could not
combine to preserve the peace, and M. Ladislas Cochet, Consul de France,
an uninterested spectator of the passing events, thought favourably of
his Highness the Sayyid Suwayni’s claim, he believed that the people if
consulted would prefer the rule of the elder brother, and he could not
reconcile his conscience to the unscrupulous means--the _force
majeure_--which his opponent brought into the field. The Harisi,
therefore, with their thousands of armed retainers--in a single review I
saw about 2200 of them--preserved an armed neutrality, which threatened
mischief to the weaker of the rival brothers: trade was paralysed, the
foreign merchants lost heavily, and no less than eighty native vessels
were still at the end of the season due from Bombay and the north. To
confuse confusion, several ships collecting negro “emigrants” and “free
labourers,” _per fas et nefas_, even kidnapping them when necessary,
were reported by the Arab local authorities to be anchored and to be
cruising off the coast of Zanzibar.

After a fortnight of excitement and suspense, during which the wildest
rumours flew through the mouths of men, it was officially reported that
H. M.’s steamer _Punjaub_, Captain Fullerton, H.M.I.N., commanding, had,
under orders received from the government of Bombay, met his Highness
the Sayyid Suwayni off the eastern coast of Africa and had persuaded him
to return.

Congratulations were exchanged, salutes were fired, a few Buggalows
belonging to the enemy’s fleet, which was said to have been dispersed by
a storm, dropped in and were duly captured, the negroes drank, sang, and
danced for a consecutive week, and with the least delay armed men poured
in crowded boats from the island towards their several stations on the
mainland. But the blow had been struck, the commercial prosperity of
Zanzibar could not be retrieved during the brief remnant of the season,
and the impression that a renewal of the attempt would at no distant
time ensure similar disasters seemed to be uppermost in every man’s
mind.

His Highness the Sayyid Majid had honoured me with an expression of
desire that I should remain until the expected hostilities might be
brought to a close. I did so willingly in gratitude to a prince to whose
good-will my success was mainly indebted. But the consulate was no
longer what it was before. I felt myself too conversant with local
politics, and too well aware of what was going on to be a pleasant
companion to its new tenant. At last, on the 15th March, when concluding
my accounts with Ladha Damha, the collector of customs at Zanzibar, that
official requested me, with the usual mystery, to be the bearer of
despatches, privately addressed by his prince, to the home government. I
could easily guess what they contained. Unwilling, however, to undertake
such a duty when living at the consulate, and seeing how totally opposed
to official _convenance_ such a procedure was, I frankly stated my
objections to Ladha Damha, and repeated the conversation to Captain
Rigby. As may be imagined, this little event did not diminish his desire
to see me depart.

Still I was unwilling to leave the field of my labours while so much
remained to be done. As my health appeared gradually to return under the
influence of repose and comparative comfort, I would willingly have
delayed at the island till the answer to an application for leave of
absence, and to a request for additional funds could be received from
the Government of Bombay and the Royal Geographical Society. But the
evident anxiety of my host to disembarrass himself of his guest, and the
nervous impatience of my companion--who could not endure the thought of
losing an hour--compelled me, sorely against my wish, to abandon my
intentions.

Said bin Salim, the Ras Kafilah, called twice or thrice at the
consulate. I refused, however, to see him, and explained the reason to
Captain Rigby. That gentleman agreed with me at the time that the Arab
had been more than sufficiently rewarded by the sum advanced to him by
Lieut.-Colonel Hamerton: but--perhaps he remembers the cognomen by which
he was known in days of yore amongst his juvenile _confrères_ at
Addiscombe?--he has since thought proper to change his mind. The Jemadar
and the Baloch attended me to the doorway of the prince’s darbar: I
would not introduce them to their master or to the consul, as such
introduction would have argued myself satisfied with their conduct, nor
would I recommend them for promotion or reward. Ladha Damha put in a
faint claim for salary due to the sons of Ramji; but when informed of
the facts of the case he at once withdrew it, and I heard no more of it
at Zanzibar. As regards the propriety of these severe but equitable
measures, my companion was, I believe, at that time of the same opinion
as myself: perhaps Captain Speke’s prospect of a return to East Africa,
and of undertaking a similar exploration, have caused him since that
epoch to think, and to think that he then thought, otherwise.

The report of the success of the _Punjaub’s_ mission left me at liberty
to depart. With a grateful heart I bade adieu to a prince whose kindness
and personal courtesy will long dwell in my memory, and who at the
parting interview had expressed a hope to see me again, and had offered
me a passage homeward in one of his ships-of-war. At the time, however,
a clipper-built barque, the _Dragon of Salem_, Captain M‘Farlane
commanding, was discharging cargo in the harbour, preparatory to sailing
with the S.W. monsoon for Aden. The captain consented to take us on
board: Captain Rigby, however, finding his boat too crowded, was
compelled to omit accompanying us--a little mark of civility not unusual
in the East. His place, however, was well filled up by Seedy Mubarak
Bombay, whose honest face appeared at that moment, by contrast,
peculiarly attractive.

On the 22nd March, 1859, the clove-shrubs and the cocoa-trees of
Zanzibar again faded from my eyes. After crossing and re-crossing three
times the tedious line, we found ourselves anchored, on the 16th April,
near the ill-omened black walls of the Aden crater.

The crisis of my African sufferings had taken place during my voyage
upon the Tanganyika Lake: the fever, however, still clung to me like the
shirt of Nessus. Mr. Apothecary Frost, of Zanzibar, had advised a
temporary return to Europe: Dr. Steinhaeuser, the civil surgeon, Aden,
also recommended a lengthened period of rest. I bade adieu to the
coal-hole of the East on the 28th April, 1859, and in due time greeted
with becoming heartiness the shores of my native land.

[Illustration: The Elephant Rock (Ακρωτηριον Ελεφας, Periplus II. ‏راس
الفيل‎), seen from fifteen miles at sea, direction S.W.]


FINIS CORONAT OPUS!

[Illustration:

  MAP OF THE ROUTES
  between
  ZANZIBAR AND THE GREAT LAKES
  IN
  =EASTERN AFRICA=
  in 1857, 1858 & 1859,
  by
  R. F. Burton

  _London, Longman & Co._

  _Engraved by Edwd. Weller, Red Lion Square._]




APPENDICES.


APPENDIX I.

COMMERCE, IMPORTS AND EXPORTS.

Commerce has for ages been a necessity to the East African, who cannot
be contented without his clothing and his ornaments, which he receives
in barter for the superfluity of his country. Against its development,
however, serious obstacles have hitherto interposed. On the seaboard and
in the island the Banyans, by monopolizing the import traffic, do injury
to the internal trade. In the interior the Wasawahili excite, with all
the animosity of competition, the barbarians against Arab interlopers,
upon the same sordid and short-sighted principle that the latter display
when opposing the ingress of Europeans. Finally, the Arabs, according to
their own confession, have by rapacity and imprudence impoverished the
people without enriching themselves. Their habit of sending fundi on
trading trips is, as has been explained, most prejudicial both to seller
and buyer; the prices of provisions as well as of merchandise increase
almost visibly; and though the evil might be remedied by a little
combination, solidarity of interests being unknown, that little is
nowhere found. All, Banyans, Wasawahili, and Arabs, like semi-civilised
people generally, abhor and oppose a free trade, which they declare
would be as injurious to themselves as doubtless advantageous to the
country. Here, as in Europe, the battle of protection has still to be
fought; and here, unlike Europe, the first step towards civilisation,
namely, the facility of intercourse between the interior and the coast,
has yet to be created.

The principal imports into East Africa are domestics and piece goods,
plain and unbleached cotton cloths, beads, and brass wire. The minor
items for the native population are prints, coloured cloths Indian and
Arabian, broadcloth, calicos, caps, ironware, knives and needles, iron
and copper wires for ornaments, and in some regions trinkets and
ammunition. A small trade, chiefly confined to the Arabs, is done in
provisions, spices, drugs, and other luxuries.

The people of East Africa when first visited were satisfied with the
worst and flimsiest kaniki or indigo-dyed Indian cotton. This they
presently gave up for the “merkani,” American “domestics,” or unbleached
shirting and sheeting, which now supplies the markets from Abyssinia to
the Mozambique. But the wild men are losing predilection for a stuff
which is neither comfortable nor durable, and in many regions the
tribes, satisfied with goat-skins and tree-barks, prefer to invest their
capital in the more attractive and durable beads and wire. It would
evidently be advantageous if England or her Indian colonies would
manufacture an article better suited to the wants of the country than
that at present in general use; but, under existing circumstances, there
is little probability of this being done.

The “domestics” from the mills near Salem, Lawrence, Manchester, and
others, called in the island of Zanzibar wilaiti (“foreign”), or khami
(the “raw”), is known throughout the inner country as “merkani” or
American. These unbleached cottons are of two kinds: the wilaiti mpana
(broad) or sheeting, sold in pieces about 30 yards long and 36 to 38
inches broad, and the wilaiti kabibu (narrow) or shirting, of the same
length but less in breadth, from 32 to 34 inches. In the different mills
the lengths vary, the extremes being 24 and 36 yards. The cloth measures
in use throughout the country are the following:--

  2½ Fitr (short spans)       = 1 Mukono, Ziraá, or cubit.
  2 Mikono, or Ziraá (cubits) = 1 Half-Shukkah (_i.e._ 3 feet of
                                domestics).
  2 Half-Shukkah              = 1 Shukkah, Mwenda, Upande, or Lupande,
                                the Portuguese Braça (_i.e._ 6 feet of
                                domestics).
  2 Shukkahs                  = 1 Tobe (Ar. Saub), Doti, Unguo ya ku
                                shona (washing cloth), or simply Unguo
                                (12 ft.)
  2 Doti                      = 1 Takah.
  7 to 11 Doti                = 1 Jurah or Gorah, the piece.

The fitr or short span is from the extended end of the forefinger to the
thumb; the shibr or long span is from the thumb to the little finger; of
these, two go to that primitive measure the cubit or elbow length. Two
cubits in long measure compose the wár or yard, and two wár the ba’a or
fathom.

The price of domestics greatly varies in dear years and cheap years. At
Zanzibar it sometimes falls to 2 dols. per gorah or piece, and it often
rises to 2·75 dols. When the dollar is alluded to, the Maria Theresa
crown is always meant. The price in Bombay is from 213 to 215 Co.’s rs.
per cent. At Zanzibar the crown is divided like the rupee into 16 annas,
and each anna into 9 or 8 pice; of these the full number is 128 to the
dollar, but it is subject to incessant fluctuations. Merchants usually
keep accounts in dollars and cents. The Arabs divide the dollar as
follows:--

  4 Ruba baisah (the “pie”)        = Baisah (in the plur. Biyas), the
                                     Indian Paisa.
  8 Biyas                          = 1 Anna.
  2 Annas, or 16 Pice              = 1 Tumun or eighth.
  4 Annas, or 32 Pice, or 25 Cents = 1 Ruba, Rubo or Quarter-dollar, the
                                     Indian Paola.
  2 Ruba, or 64 Pice, or 50 Cents  = 1 Nusu or Half-dollar.
  2 Nusu                           = 1 Dollar.

The Spanish or pillar dollar is called by the Arabs abu madfa, and by
the Wasawahili riyal mazinga (the “cannon dollar”). In the East
generally it is worth from 6 to 8 per cent. more than the Maria Theresa,
but at Zanzibar, not being a legal tender, the value is unfixed. The
only subdivision of this coin generally known is the seringe, pistoline,
or “small quarter dollar,” which is worth only 10 pice and 2 pies,
whereas the ruba, or quarter of the Maria Theresa, is 32 pice. The
French 5-franc piece, raised in value by a somewhat arbitrary process
from 114 to 110 per 100 “piastres d’Espagne” by M. Guillain in 1846, has
no currency, though the Banyans attempt to pass them off upon strangers
at 108 for 100 Maria Theresas. In selling, the price ranges from 15 to
22 shukkahs, each of which, assuming the dollar or German crown to be
worth 4_s._ 2_d._, will be worth upon the island from 6_d._ to 8_d._ The
shukkah is, as has been said, the shilling and florin of East Africa,
and it is assuredly the worst circulating medium ever invented by
mankind. The progress of its value as it recedes from the seaboard, and
other details concerning it, which may be useful to future travellers,
have been treated of in the preceding pages.

First in importance amongst the cloths is the kaniki or kiniki; its
names and measures are made to differ by the traders according to the
fashion of semi-civilised people, who seek in confusion and intricacy
facilities for fraud and chicanery. The popular divisions are--

  4 Mikono, Ziraá, or cubits = 1 Shukkah.
  2 Shukkah                  = 1 Doti or Tobe.
  2 Doti                     = 1 Jurah, Gorah, or Takah.
  2 Takah                    = 1 Korjah, Kori, or score.

Of this indigo-dyed cotton there are three kinds: the best, which is
close and neatly made, is seldom exported from Zanzibar. The gorah or
piece of 16 cubits, 45 inches in breadth, is worth about 1 dollar. The
common variety, 40 inches broad, supplied to the markets of the
interior, costs about half that sum; and the worst kind, which averages
in breadth 36 inches, represents a little less. The value of the korjah
or score fluctuates between 8 and 13 dollars. Assuming, therefore, the
average at 10 dollars, and the number of shukkahs contained in the gorah
at 80, the price of each will represent 6_d._ Thus it is little inferior
in price to the merkani or domestics when purchased upon the seaboard:
its progress of value in the interior, however, is by no means in
proportion, and by some tribes it is wholly rejected.

The lucrative bead trade of Zanzibar is now almost entirely in the hands
of the Banyan capitalists, who, by buying up ships’ cargoes, establish
their own prices, and produce all the inconveniences of a monopoly. In
laying in a stock the traveller must not trust himself to these men, who
seize the opportunity of palming off the waste and refuse of their
warehouses: he is advised to ascertain from respectable Arab merchants,
on their return from the interior, the varieties requisite on the line
of march. Any neglect in choosing beads, besides causing daily
inconvenience, might arrest an expedition on the very threshold of
success: towards the end of these long African journeys, when the real
work of exploration commences, want of outfit tells fatally. The
bead-monopolisers of Zanzibar supplied the East African expedition with
no less than nine men’s loads of the cheapest white and black beads,
some of which were thrown away, as no man would accept them at a gift.
Finally, the utmost economy must be exercised in beads: apparently
exhaustless, a large store goes but a little way: the minor purchases of
a European would average 10 strings or necklaces per diem, and thus a
man’s load rarely outlasts the fifth week.

Beads, called by the Arabs kharaz, and by the Wasawahili ushanga, are
yearly imported into East Africa by the ton--in quantities which excite
the traveller’s surprise that so little is seen of them. For centuries
there has been a regular supply of these ornaments; load after load has
been absorbed; but although they are by no means the most perishable of
substances, and though the people, like the Indians, carry their wealth
upon their persons, not a third of the population wears any considerable
quantity. There are about 400 current varieties, of which each has its
peculiar name, value, and place of preference; yet, being fabricated at
a distance from the spot, they lack the perpetual change necessary to
render them thoroughly attractive. In Urori and Ubena, antiquated marts,
now nearly neglected, there are varieties highly prized by the people:
these might be imitated with advantage.

For trading purposes a number of different kinds must be laid in,--for
travellers, the coral or scarlet, the pink porcelain, and the large blue
glass bead, are more useful than other colours. Yet in places even the
expensive coral bead has been refused.

Beads are sold in Zanzibar island by the following weights:

  16 Wakiyyah (ounces, each = 1 dollar in = 1 Ratl (or pound; in the
  weight)                                   plural, Artál).
   3 Ratl, or 48 Wakiyyah                 = 1 Man (Maund).
  12 Amnan (Maunds)                       = 1 Frasilah (35 to 36
                                            pounds).
  60 Artál (pounds)                       = 1 Frasilah.
  20 to 22 Farásilah (according to the
  article purchased)                      = 1 Kandi (Candy).

The Zanzibar lb. is the current English avoirdupois. The Arabs use a
ratl without standard, except that it should be equal to sixteen Maria
Theresa dollars. According to M. Guillain, it is four grammes (each
22·966 grs. avoir.) less than the English lb., and when reduced to seven
grammes it is considered under weight. The “man” or maund is the general
measure: there are, however, three varieties. The “man” of Zanzibar
consists of three ratl, that of Maskat contains nine, and that of Oman
generally 0·25 less than the Zanzibar maund. The frasilah (in the plur.
farásilah) may roughly be assumed as one-third of the cwt.: the word
probably gave rise to the English coffee-weight called a “frail.”

The measures of beads are as complicated and arbitrary as those of
cloth. The following are the terms known throughout the interior, but
generally unintelligible at Zanzibar, where this merchandise is sold by
weight:

  4 Bitil (each a single length from
  index tip to wrist)                   = 1 Khete.
  10 Khete (each a doubled length round
  the throat, or round the thumb, to
  the elbow-bone)                       = 1 Fundo (_i.e._ a “knot.”)
  10 Fundo (in the plural, Mafundo)     = 1 Ugoyye, or Ugoe.
  10 Ugoyye (or 60 Fundo)               = 1 Miranga, or Gana.

Of these bead measures there are local complications. In the central
regions, for instance, the khete is of half size, and the fundo consists
of five, not of ten khete.

Beads are purchased for the monopolisers of Zanzibar unstrung, and
before entering the country it is necessary to measure and prepare the
lengths for barter. The string, called “ut’hembwe” (in the plural
“t’hembwe”), is generally made of palm-fibre, and much depends for
successful selling, especially in the larger kinds of beads, upon the
regularity and attractiveness of the line. It will be remembered that
beads in East Africa represent the copper and smaller silver coins of
European countries; it is, however, impossible to reduce the khete, the
length most used in purchases, to any average: it varies from a
halfpenny to three-pence. The average value of the khete in Zanzibar
coin is three pice, and about 100 khete are included in the man or
maund. The traveller will find the bitil used as our farthing, the khete
is the penny, the shukkah kaniki is the sixpence and shilling, the
shukkah merkani and the fundo represent the halfcrown and crown, whilst
the Barsati cloth, the kitindi or coil bracelet, and the larger measures
of beads, form the gold money. The following varieties are imported in
extensive outfits. Nos. 1, 2, and 3, are the expensive kinds; Nos. 4, 5,
and 6, are in local demand, cheap in the maritime, and valuable in the
central regions, and the rest are the more ordinary sorts. All those
that are round and pierced are called indifferently by the Arabs
madruji, or the “drilled.”

1. Samsam (Ar.) sámesáme (Kis.), kimara-p’hamba (food-finishers), joho
(scarlet cloth), and kifungá-mgi (town-breakers, because the women are
mad for them), are the various names for the small coral bead, a scarlet
enamelled upon a white ground. They are known at Zanzibar as
kharaz-kartasi--paper beads--because they are sent into the country
ready strung, and packed in paper parcels, which ought to weigh 4 pounds
each, but are generally found to vary from 8 to 10 fundo or knots. Of
this bead there are 15 several sizes, and the value of the frasilah is
from 13 to 16 dollars at Zanzibar. In Unyamwezi, where the sámesáme is
in greatest demand, one fundo is equivalent to 1 shukkah merkani, and 6
khete to the shukkah kaniki.

2. Next in demand to the sámesáme, throughout the country, except at
Ujiji, where they lose half their value, are the pink porcelain, called
gulabi (the rosy), or máguru lá nzige (locust’s feet). The price in
Zanzibar varies from 12 to 15 dollars per frasilah.

3. The blue porcelain, called in Venice ajerino, and in East Africa
langiyo or murtutu (blue vitriol) is of three several sizes, and the
best is of the lightest colour. The larger variety, called langiyo
mkuba, fetches, at Zanzibar, from 6 to 12 dollars per frasilah, and the
p’heke, or smaller, from 7 to 9 dollars. In Usagara and Unyamwezi, where
from 3 to 4 fundo are equivalent to the shukkah merkani, and 1 to 2 to
the shukkah kaniki, it is used for minor purchases, where the sámesáme
would be too valuable. It is little prized in other parts, and between
Unyamwezi and Ujiji it falls to the low level of the white porcelain.

4. A local variety, current from Msene to the Tanganyika Lake, where, in
the heavier dealings, as the purchase of slaves and ivory, a few strings
are always required to cap the bargain, is called mzizima, mtunda,
balghami, and jelabi, the ringel perle of Germany. It is a large flat
bead of glass; the khete contains about 150, and each item acts as a
copper coin. The mzizima is of two varieties; the more common is a dark
blue, the other is of a whitish and opaline tint. At Zanzibar the
frasilah costs from 7 to 9 dollars. In Unyamwezi 3 fundo are equivalent
to 1 shukkah merkani, and 1 fundo to 1 shukkah kaniki.

5. Another local variety is the balghami mkuba, popularly called
sungomaji, a bead made at Nuremberg (?). It is a porcelain, about the
size of a pigeon’s egg, and of two colours, white and light blue. The
sungomaji, attached to a thin cord or twine, is worn singly or in
numbers as an ornament round the neck, and the people complain that the
polish soon wears off. At Zanzibar the price per 1000 is from 15 to 20
dollars, but it is expected to decline to 10 dollars. This bead is
useful in purchasing ivory in Ugogo and Unyamwezi, and in hiring boats
at Ujiji: its relative value to cloth is 19 per shukkah merkani, and 15
per shukkah kaniki.

6. The sofi, called in Italian cannettone, resembles bits of broken
pipe-stems, about two-thirds of an inch in length. It is of various
colours, white, brick-red, and black. Each bead is termed masaro, and is
used like pice in India: of these the khete contains from 55 to 60. The
price varies, at Zanzibar, from 2 to 3 dollars per frasilah; in the
interior, however, the value greatly increases, on account of
insufficient importation. This bead, in 1858, was in great demand
throughout Usagara, Unyamwezi, and the western regions, where it was as
valuable as the sámesáme. Having neglected to lay in a store at
Zanzibar, the East African Expedition was compelled to exchange cloth
for it at Msene and Ujiji, giving 1 shukkah merkani for 30 to 35 khete,
and 1 shukkah kaniki for 15 to 25. In Ujiji, however, many of the
purchases were rejected because the bits had become small by wear, or
had been chipped off by use.

7. The staple of commerce is a coarse porcelain bead, of various
colours, known in Zanzibar by the generic name of háfizi. There are
three principal kinds. The khanyera or ushanga waupa (white beads) are
common throughout the country. The average value, at Zanzibar, is 6
dollars per frasilah: in Unyamwezi, 4 fundo were equivalent to the
shukkah merkani, and 2 to 3 to the kaniki; but the people, glutted with
this bead (as many as 20,000 strings were supplied to the East African
Expedition by the Banyans of Zanzibar), preferred 1 khete of sámesáme to
3 of khanyera. The kidunduguru is a dull brick-red bead, worth at
Zanzibar from 5 to 7 dollars per frasilah, but little prized in the
interior, where it is derisively termed khanyera ya mk’hundu. Another
red variety of háfizi is called merkani: it is finely made to resemble
the sámesáme, and costs from 7 to 11 dollars per frasilah. Of this bead
there are four several subdivisions. The uzanzawírá or samuli
(ghee-coloured) is a bright yellow porcelain worth, at Zanzibar, from 7
to 9 dollars per frasilah. It is in demand throughout Chhaga and the
Masai country, but is rarely seen on the central line.

8. The sukoli are orange-coloured or rhubarb-tinted porcelain, which
average, at Zanzibar, from 7 to 9 dollars. They are prized in Usagara
and Ugogo, but are little worn in other places.

9. The nílí (green), or ukutí wa mnazi (coco-leaves), are little beads
of transparent green glass; they are of three sizes, the smallest of
which is called kíkítí. The Zanzibar price is from 6 to 11 dollars. In
Ujiji they are highly valued, and are readily taken in small quantities
throughout the central line.

10. The ghubari (dust-coloured), or nya kifu (?) is a small
dove-coloured bead, costing, in Zanzibar, from 7 or 8 dollars. It is
used in Uzaramo, but its dulness of aspect prevents it being a
favourite.

11. The lungenya or lak’hio is a coarse red porcelain, valued at 5 to 6
dollars in Zanzibar, and now principally exported to Uruwwa and the
innermost regions of Central Africa.

12. The bubu (ububu?), also called ukumwi and ushanga ya vipande, are
black Venetians, dull dark porcelain, ranging, at Zanzibar, from 5 to 7
dollars. They are of fourteen sizes, large, medium, and small; the
latter are the most valued. These beads are taken by the Wazaramo. In
East Usagara and Unyamwezi they are called khuni or firewood, nor will
they be received in barter except when they excite a temporary caprice.

The other beads, occasionally met with, are the sereketi, ovals of white
or garnet-red, prized in Khutu; choroko or mágiyo, dull green
porcelains; undriyo maupe (?), mauve-coloured, round or oval; undriyo
mausi (?), dark lavender; asmani, sky-coloured glass; and pusange, blue
Bohemian glass beads, cut into facets. The people of the coast also
patronise a variety of large fancy articles, flowered, shelled, and
otherwise ornamented; these, however, rarely find their way into the
interior.

After piece goods and beads, the principal articles of traffic,
especially on the northern lines and the western portion of the central
route, are masango (in the singular sango), or brass wires, called by
the Arabs hajúlah. Nos. 4 or 5 are preferred. They are purchased in
Zanzibar, when cheap, for 12 dollars, and when dear for 16 dollars per
frasilah. When imported up country the frasilah is divided into three or
four large coils, called by the Arabs daur, and by the Africans khata,
for the convenience of attachment to the banghy-pole. Arrived at
Unyanyembe they are converted by artizans into the kitindi, or
coil-bracelets, described in the preceding pages. Each daur forms two or
three of these bulky ornaments, of which there are about 11 to the
frasilah, and the weight is thus upwards of three pounds. The charge for
the cutting, cleaning, and twisting into shape is about 1 doti of
domestics for 50 kitindis. The value of the kitindi, throughout
Unyamwezi, in 1858, was 1 doti merkani; at Ujiji, where they are in
demand for slaves and ivory, the price was doubled. Thus, the kitindi,
worth one dollar each--when cheap, nine are bought for ten dollars--in
Zanzibar, rises to five dollars in the lake regions. Kitindi were
formerly made of copper wire; it has fallen into disuse on account of
its expense,--at Zanzibar from 15 to 20 dollars per frasilah. Large iron
wires, called senyenge, are confined to Ugogo and the northern countries
inhabited by the Wamasai. The East Africans have learned to draw fine
wire, which they call uzi wa shaba (brass thread); they also import from
the coast Nos. 22 to 25, and employ them for a variety of decorative
purposes, which have already been alluded to. The average price of this
small wire at Zanzibar is 12 dollars per frasilah. As has been
mentioned, sat or zinc, called by the Africans bati (tin), is imported
by the Wajiji.

The principal of the minor items are coloured cloths, called by the
people “cloths with names:” of these, many kinds are imported by every
caravan. In some regions, Ugogo for instance, the people will not sell
their goats and more valuable provisions for plain piece-goods; their
gross and gaudy tastes lead them to despise sober and uniform colours.
The sultans invariably demand for themselves and their wives showy
goods, and complete their honga or blackmail with domestics and
indigo-dyed cottons, which they divide amongst their followers. Often,
too, a bit of scarlet broadcloth, thrown in at the end of a lengthened
haggle, opens a road and renders impossibilities possible.

The coloured cloths may be divided into three kinds,--woollens, cottons,
and silks mixed with cotton. Of the former, the principal varieties now
imported are Joho or broadcloth; of the second, beginning with the
cheapest, are Barsati, Dabwani, Jamdani, Bandira, Shít (chintz),
Khuzarangi, Ukaya, Sohari, Shali, Taujiri, Msutu, Kikoi, and Shazar or
Mukunguru; the mixed and most expensive varieties are the Subai, Dewli,
Sabuni, Khesi, and Masnafu. Travelling Arabs usually take a piece of
baftah or white calico as kafan or shrouds for themselves or their
companions in case of accidents. At Zanzibar the value of a piece of 24
yds. is 1 dollar 25 cents. Blankets were at first imported by the Arabs,
but being unsuited to the climate and to the habits of the people they
soon became a drug in the market.

Joho (a corruption of the Arabic Johh) is a coarse article, either blue
or scarlet. As a rule, even Asiatics ignore the value of broadcloth,
estimating it, as they do guns and watches, by the shine of the
exterior: the African looks only at the length of the pile and the depth
of the tint. The Zanzibar valuation of the cheap English article is
usually 50 cents (2_s._ 1_d._) per yard; in the interior rising rapidly
through double and treble to four times that price, it becomes a present
for a prince. At Ujiji and other great ivory-marts there is a demand for
this article, blue as well as red; it is worn, like the shukkah merkani,
round the loins by men and round the bosom by women, who, therefore,
require a tobe or double length. At Unyanyembe there are generally
pauper Arabs or Wasawahili artisans who can fashion the merchants’
supplies into the kizbao or waistcoats affected by the African chiefs in
imitation of their more civilised visitors.

Of the second division the cheapest is the Barsati, called by the
Africans kitambi; it is a blue cotton cloth, with a broad red stripe
extending along one quarter of the depth, the other three-quarters being
dark blue; the red is either of European or Cutch dye. The former is
preferred upon the coast for the purchase of copal. Of this Indian stuff
there are three kinds, varying in size, colour, and quality; the
cheapest is worth at Zanzibar (where, however, like dabwani, it is
usually sold by the gorah of two uzar or loin-cloths) from 5 to 7
dollars per score; the second 10 dollars 50 cents; and the best 14 to 15
dollars. The barsati in the interior represents the doti or tobe of
Merkani. On the coast it is a favourite article of wear with the poorer
freemen, slaves, and women. Beyond the maritime regions the chiefs will
often refuse a barsati, if of small dimensions and flimsy texture.
Formerly, the barsati was made of silk, and cost 7 dollars per
loin-cloth. Of late years the Wanyamwezi have taken into favour the
barsati or kitambi banyani; it is a thin white long cloth, called in
Bombay kora (Corah, or cotton piece-goods), with a narrow reddish border
of madder or other dye stamped in India or at Zanzibar. The piece of 39
yards, which is divided into 20 shukkah, costs at Bombay 4·50 Co.’s rs.;
at Zanzibar 2 dollars 50 cents; and the price of printing the edge is 1
dollar 75 cents.

The dabwani is a kind of small blue and white check made at Maskat; one
fourth of its breadth is a red stripe, edged with white and yellow. This
stuff, which from its peculiar stiffening of gum appears rather like
grass-cloth than cotton, is of three kinds: the cheapest, dyed with
Cutch colours, is much used in the far interior; it costs at Zanzibar 12
dols. 50 cents per score of pieces, each two and a half yards long;--the
medium quality, employed in the copal trade of the coast, is stained
with European dye, and superior in work; the score of pieces, each 3
yards long, costs 30 dols.;--and the best, which is almost confined to
the island of Zanzibar, ranges from 40 to 45 dols. per kori. The dabwani
is considered in the interior nearly double the value of the barsati,
and it is rarely rejected unless stained or injured.

The jamdani is a sprigged or worked muslin imported from India: though
much prized for turbans by the dignitaries of the maritime races, it is
rarely carried far up the country. At Zanzibar the price of 10 yards is
1 dol., and the piece of 20 lengths, each sufficient for a turban, may
be purchased for 15 dols.

The bandira (flag stuff) is a red cotton bunting imported from Bombay.
It is prized in the interior by women. At Zanzibar the price of this
stuff greatly varies; when cheap the piece of 28 yards may be obtained
for 2 dols. 50 cents, when dear it rises to 3 dols. 50 cents. It is sold
by gorah of 7½ shukkahs.

Shít, or chintz, is of many different kinds. The common English is a red
cotton, striped yellow and dark green; it fetches from 1 dol. 50 cents
to 2 dols. per piece of 28 yards, and is little prized in the interior.
Those preferred, especially in Unyamwezi and Ujiji, are the French and
Hamburg; the former is worth at Zanzibar from 4 dols. 50 cents per piece
of 35 yards, to 5 dols. 50 cents per gorah of 10 shukkahs, and the
latter from 5 dols. to 5 dols. 50 cents. The most expensive is the
“ajemi,” that used by the Persians as lining for their lambswool caps;
the price is from 50 cents to 1 dol. per yard, which renders it a scarce
article even in Zanzibar island.

The khuzarangi, a European cotton dyed a reddish nankeen, with
pomegranate rind and other colouring matters, at Maskat, is almost
confined to the Arabs, who make of it their normal garment, the long and
sleeved shirt called el dishdashah, or in Kisawahili khanzu. It is the
test of foreign respectability and decorum when appearing amongst the
half-clad African races, and the poorest of pedlars will always carry
with him one of these nightgown-like robes. The price of the ready-made
dishdashah ranges from 50 cents to 2 dols. 50 cents, and the uncut piece
of 16 yards costs from 2 dols. to 2 dols. 50 cents.

The ukaya somewhat resembles the kaniki, but it is finer and thinner.
This jaconnet, manufactured in Europe and dyed in Bombay, is much used
by female slaves and concubines as head veils. The price of the piece of
20 yards, when of inferior quality, is 2 dollars 50 cents; it ranges as
high as 12 dollars.

The sohari, or ridia, made at Maskat, is a blue and white check with a
red border about 5 inches broad, with smaller stripes of red, blue, and
yellow; the ends of the piece are checks of a larger pattern, with red
introduced. There are many varieties of this cloth, which, considered as
superior to the dabwani as the latter is superior to the barsati, forms
an acceptable present to a chief. The cheapest kind, much used in
Unyamwezi, costs 16 dollars 25 cents per kori, or score. The higher
sorts, of which however only 1 to 40 of the inferior is imported into
the country, ranges from 22 to 30 dollars.

The shali, a corruption of the Indian shal (shawl), is a common English
imitation shawl pattern of the poorest cotton. Bright yellow or red
grounds, with the pear pattern and similar ornaments, are much prized by
the chiefs of Unyamwezi. The price of the kori, or score, is 25 dollars.

The taujiri (from the Indian taujír burá) is a dark blue cotton stuff,
with a gaudy border of madder-red or tumeric-yellow, the former colour
preferred by the Wahiao, the latter by the Wanyamwezi. The price per
score varies from 8 to 17 dollars.

The msutu is a European cotton dyed at Surat, indigo blue upon a
madder-red ground, spotted with white. This print is much worn by Arab
and Wasawahili women as a nightdress and morning wrapper; in the
interior it becomes a robe of ceremony. At Zanzibar the piece of 20
lengths, each 2·25 yards long and 40 inches broad (two breadths being
sown together), costs 19 dollars. The kisutu, an inferior variety,
fetches, per kori of pieces 2·50 yards long, 13 dollars.

The kikoi is a white cotton, made at Surat, coarse and thick, with a
broad border of parallel stripes, red, yellow, and indigo blue: per kori
of pieces 2 yards long, and sewn in double breadths, the price is 5
dollars. A superior variety is made principally for the use of women,
with a silk border, which costs from 1 to 4 dollars.

The shazar, called throughout the interior mukunguru, is a Cutch-made
cotton plaid, with large or small squares, red and white, or black and
blue; this cloth is an especial favourite with the Wamasai tribes. The
score of pieces, each 2 yards, costs 6 dollars 25 cents. There is a
dearer variety, of which each piece is 3 yards long, costing 16 dollars
per kori, and therefore rarely sold.

Of the last division of “cloths with names,” namely those of silk and
cotton mixed, the most popular is the subaí. It is a striped stuff, with
small checks between the lines, and with a half-breadth of border, a
complicated pattern of red, black, and yellow. This cloth is used as an
uzar, or loin-cloth, by the middle classes of Arabs; the tambua, taraza,
or fringe, is applied to the cloth with a band of gold thread at
Zanzibar, by Wasawahili. The subai, made at Maskat of Cutch cotton,
varies greatly in price: the cheapest, of cotton only, may be obtained
for 2 dollars; the medium, generally preferred for presents to great
chiefs, is about 5 dollars 50 cents; whilst the most expensive, inwoven
with gold thread, ranges from 8 to 30 dollars.

The dewli is the Indian lungi, a Surat silk, garnished with a border of
gold thread and a fringe at Zanzibar. It is a red, yellow, or green
ground, striped in various ways, and much prized for uzar. The price of
the cheap piece of 3·50 yards is 7 dollars, besides the fringe, which is
2 dollars more; the best, when adorned with gold, rise to 80 dollars.

The sabuni uzar, made in Maskat, is a silk-bordered cotton, a small blue
and white check; the red and yellow edging which gives it its value is
about one-fifth of its breadth. The score of pieces, each 2·50 yards
long, varies from 25 to 50 dollars; the more expensive, however, rarely
find their way into the interior.

The khesi is a rare importation from Bombay, a scarlet silk, made at
Tannah; the piece sold at Bombay for 10 Co.’s rs. fetches at Zanzibar 5
dols. 50 cents to 6 dollars; this kind is preferred by the Wanyamwezi
chiefs; when larger, and adorned with gold stripes, it rises to 35 Co.’s
rs., or 19 dollars, and is prized by the Banyans and Hindis of Zanzibar.

The masnafu is rare like the khesi; it is a mixed silk and cotton cloth,
of striped pattern, made at Maskat. The cheapest is a piece of 1·75
yards, costing from 2 to 5 dollars, and highly regarded in Unyamwezi;
the larger kinds, of 2·50 yards, rise from 5 to 6 dollars, and the Arabs
will pay from 20 to 25 dollars for those worked with gold thread.

These notes upon the prices of importations into Central Africa rest
upon the authority of the Hindus, and principally of Ladha Damha, the
collector of customs at Zanzibar. Specimens of the cloths were deposited
with the Royal Geographical Society of London, and were described by the
kindness of Mr. Alderman Botterill, F.R.G.S.

Remain for consideration the minor and local items of traffic.

The skull-caps are of two kinds. One is a little fez, locally called
kummah. It is made in France, rarely at Bagdad, and sells at Zanzibar
for 5 dols. 50 cents to 9 dollars per dozen. The cheaper kind is
preferred in Unyamwezi; it is carried up from the coast by Arab slaves
and Wasawahili merchants, and is a favourite wear with the sultan and
the mtongi. At Unyanyembe the price of the fez rises to 1 dollar. The
“alfiyyah” is the common Surat cap, worked with silk upon a cotton
ground; it is affected by the Diwans and Shomwis of the coasts. The
“vis-gol,” or 20-stitch, preferred for importation, cost 8 dollars per
score; the “tris-gol,” or 30-stitch, 13 dollars; and the “chalis-gol,”
or 40-stitch, 18 dollars.

Besides these articles, a little hardware finds its way into the
country. Knives, razors, fish-hooks, and needles are useful, especially
in the transit of Uzaramo. As an investment they are useless; the
people, who make for themselves an article which satisfies their wants,
will not part with valuables to secure one a little better. They have
small axes and sharp spears, consequently they will not buy dear
cutlery; they have gourds, and therefore they care little for glass and
china. The Birmingham trinkets and knicknacks, of which travellers take
large outfits to savage and barbarous countries, would in East Africa be
accepted by women and children as presents, but unless in exceptional
cases they would not procure a pound of grain; mirrors are cheap and
abundant at Zanzibar, yet they are rarely imported into the interior.
The people will devise new bijouterie for themselves, but they will not
borrow it from strangers. In the maritime regions, where the tribes are
more civilised, they will covet such foreign contrivances, as dollars,
blankets, snuff-boxes, and tin cylinders which can be converted into
tobacco pouches: the Wanyamwezi would not regard them. Similarly in
Somaliland, a case of Birmingham goods carried through the country
returned to Aden almost full.

Coffee, sugar, and soap may generally be obtained in small quantities
from the Arabs of Unyanyembe. At Zanzibar the price of common coffee is
3 dollars 75 cents, and of Mocha 5 dollars 50 cents per frasilah. Sugar
is of three kinds: the buluji, or loaf-sugar, imported from America,
averages 6 annas; sukkari za mawe, or sugar-candy, fetches upon the
island 5 dollars 50 cents per frasilah; and the bungálá, or sukkari za
mchanga (brown Bengal sugar), costs 3 dollars 50 cents; gur, or
molasses, sells at Zanzibar for 1 dollar 25 cents per frasilah. Soap is
brought to Zanzibar island by the Americans, French, and India
merchants.

The other articles of importation into Zanzibar, which, however, so
rarely find their way into the interior, that they do not merit detailed
notice, are--rice and other cereals from Bombay and Western India;
shipping materials, canvas, rigging, hempen cord, planks and boards,
paint, pitch, turpentine, linseed-oil, bees’-wax, and tar, from America
and India; metals from Europe and India; furniture from Europe and
America, China and Bombay; carpets and rugs from Turkey and Persia; mats
from Madagascar; made-up clothes from Maskat and Yemen; glassware from
Europe and America; pottery, paper, and candles from Europe and Bombay;
kuzah (water-jars) from the Persian Gulf; woods and timber from
Madagascar, the Mozambique, and the coast as far north as Mombasah;
skins and hides from the Banadir; salt-fish (shark and others) from
Oman, Hazramaut, and the Benadir; brandy, rum, peppermint, eau de
Cologne, syrups and pickles, tobacco, cigars, and tea, from Bombay,
France, and the Mauritius; rose-water from the Gulf; attar of rose and
of sandal from Bombay; dates, almonds, and raisins from Arabia and the
Gulf; gums and ambergris from Madagascar, the Mozambique, and the
“Sayf-Tawil” (the long low coast extending from Ras Awath, in N. lat. 5°
33′, to Ras el-Khayl, N. lat. 7° 44′); aloes and dragon’s-blood from
Socotra; incense, gum Arabic, and myrrh from the Somali country and the
Benadir; turmeric, opium, ginger, nutmegs, colombo-root, cardamoms,
cinnamon, aniseed, camphor, benzoin, assafœtida, saltpetre, potash, blue
vitriol, alum, soda, saffron, garlic, fenugreek, and other drugs and
spices from Bombay and Western India.

The staple articles of the internal trade throughout the regions
extending from the coast of the Indian Ocean to the lakes of Central
Africa are comprised in slaves and cattle, salt, iron, tobacco, mats and
strainers, and tree-barks and ropes. Of these, all except salt have been
noticed in detail in the preceding pages.

Salt is brought down during the season from East Arabia to Zanzibar by
Arab dows, and is heaped up for sale on a strip of clear ground under
the eastern face of the gurayza or fort. It is of two kinds: the fine
rock salt sells at 6 annas per frasilah, and the inferior, which is
dark and sandy, at about half that price. On the coast the principal
ports and towns supply themselves with sea-salt evaporated in the rudest
way. Pits sunk near the numerous lagoons and backwaters allow the saline
particles to infiltrate; the contents, then placed in a pierced earthen
pot, are allowed to strain into a second beneath. They are inspissated
by boiling, and are finally dried in the sun, when the mass assumes the
form of sand. This coarse salt is sold after the rains, when it abounds,
for its weight of holcus; when dear, the price is doubled. In the
interior there are two great markets, and the regularity of
communication enables the people to fare better as regards the luxury
than the more civilised races of Abyssinia and Harar, where of a
millionnaire it is said, “he eateth salt.” An inferior article is
exported from Ugogo, about half-way between the East Coast and the
Tanganyika Lake. A superior quality is extracted from the pits near the
Rusugi River in Western Uvinza, distant but a few days from Ujiji. For
the prices and other conditions of sale the reader is referred to
Chapters V. and VII.

The subject of exports will be treated of at some length; it is not only
interesting from its intrinsic value, but it is capable of considerable
development, and it also offers a ready entrance for civilisation. The
African will never allow the roads to be permanently closed--none but
the highly refined amongst mankind can contemplate with satisfaction a
life of utter savagery. The Arab is too wise to despise “protection,”
but he will not refuse to avail himself of assistance offered by
foreigners when they appear as capitalists. Hitherto British interests
have been neglected in this portion of the African continent, and the
name of England is unknown in the interior. Upon the island of Zanzibar,
in 1857-8, there was not an English firm; no line of steamers connected
it with India or the Cape, and, during the dead season, nine months have
elapsed before the answer to a letter has been received from home.

The reader is warned that amongst the East Africans the “bay o
shara”--barter or round trade--is an extensive subject, of which only
the broad outlines and general indications can be traced. At present,
the worthlessness of time enables both buyer and seller to haggle _ad
libitum_, and the superior craft of the Arab, the Banyan, the Msawahili,
and the more civilised slave, has encumbered with a host of difficulties
the simplest transactions. It is easy to be a merchant and to buy
wholesale at Zanzibar, but a lengthened period of linguistic study and
of conversancy with the habits and customs of the people must be spent
by the stranger who would engage in the task of retail-buying in the
interior.

The principal article of export from the Zanzibar coast is copal, from
the interior ivory. The minor items are hippopotamus teeth, rhinoceros
horns, cattle, skins, hides, and horns, the cereals, timbers, and
cowries. Concerning the slaves, who in East Africa still form a
considerable item of export, details have been given in the preceding
pages. The articles which might be exploited, were means of carriage
supplied to the people, are wax and honey, orchella-weed, fibrous
substances, and a variety of gums.

The copal of Zanzibar, which differs materially from that of the Western
Coast of Mexico and the cowaee (Australian dammar?) of New Zealand, is
the only article convertible into the fine varnishes now so extensively
used throughout the civilised world.

As the attention of the Expedition was particularly directed to the
supplies of copal in East Africa by Dr. G. Buist, LL.D., Secretary to
the Bombay branch of the R. G. Society, many inquiries and visits to the
copal diggings were made. In the early part of 1857 specimens of the
soils and subsoils, and of the tree itself, were forwarded to the
Society.

The copal-tree is called by the Arabs shajar el sandarús, from the
Hindostani chhandarus; by the Wasawahili msandarusi; and by the Wazaramo
and other maritime races mnángú. The tree still lingers on the island
and the mainland of Zanzibar. It was observed at Mombasah, Saadani,
Muhonyera, and Mzegera of Uzaramo; and was heard of at Bagamoyo,
Mbuamaji, and Kilwa. It is by no means, as some have supposed, a shrubby
thorn; its towering bole has formed canoes 60 feet long, and a single
tree has sufficed for the kelson of a brig. The average size, however,
is about half that height, with from 3 to 6 feet girth near the ground;
the bark is smooth, the lower branches are often within reach of a man’s
hand, and the tree frequently emerges from a natural ring-fence of dense
vegetation. The trunk is of a yellow-whitish tinge, rendering the tree
conspicuous amid the dark African jungle-growths; it is dotted with
exudations of raw gum, which is found scattered in bits about the base;
and it is infested by ants, especially by a long ginger-coloured and
semi-transparent variety, called by the people maji-m’oto, or “boiling
water,” from its fiery bite. The copal wood is yellow tinted, and the
saw collects from it large flakes; when dried and polished it darkens to
a honey-brown, and, being well veined, it is used for the panels of
doors. The small and pliable branches, freshly cut, form favourite
“bakur,” the kurbaj or bastinadoing instrument of these regions; after
long keeping they become brittle. The modern habitat of the tree is the
alluvial sea-plain and the anciently raised beach: though extending over
the crest of the latter formation, it ceases to be found at any distance
beyond the landward counterslope, and it is unknown in the interior.

The gum copal is called by the Arabs and Hindus sandarus, by the
Wasawahili sandarusi, and by the Wanyamwezi--who employ it like the
people of Mexico and Yucatan as incense in incantations and
medicinings--sirokko and mámnángu. This semi-fossil is not “washed out
by streams and torrents,” but “crowed” or dug up by the coast clans and
the barbarians of the maritime region. In places it is found when
sinking piles for huts, and at times it is picked up in spots overflowed
by the high tides. The East African seaboard, from Ras Gomani in S. lat.
3° to Ras Delgado in 10° 41′, with a medium depth of 30 miles, may
indeed be called the “copal coast;” every part supplies more or less the
gum of commerce. Even a section of this line, from the mouth of the
Pangani River to Ngao (Monghou), would, if properly exploited, suffice
to supply all our present wants.

The Arabs and Africans divide the gum into two different kinds. The raw
copal (copal vert of the French market) is called sandarusi za miti,
“tree copal,” or chakází, corrupted by the Zanzibar merchant to
“jackass” copal. This chakazi is either picked from the tree or is
found, as in the island of Zanzibar, shallowly imbedded in the loose
soil, where it has not remained long enough to attain the phase of
bitumenisation. To the eye it is smoky or clouded inside, it feels soft,
it becomes like putty when exposed to the action of alcohol, and it
viscidises in the solution used for washing the true copal. Little
valued in European technology, it is exported to Bombay, where it is
converted into an inferior varnish for carriages and palanquins, and to
China, where the people have discovered, it is said, for utilising it, a
process which, like the manufacture of rice paper and of Indian ink,
they keep secret. The price of chakazi varies from 4 to 9 dollars per
frasilah.

The true or ripe copal, properly called sandarusi, is the produce of
vast extinct forests, overthrown in former ages either by some violent
action of the elements, or exuded from the roots of the tree by an
abnormal action which exhausted and destroyed it. The gum, buried at
depths beyond atmospheric influence, has, like amber and similar
gum-resins, been bitumenised in all its purity, the volatile principles
being fixed by moisture and by the exclusion of external air. That it is
the produce of a tree is proved by the discovery of pieces of gum
embedded in a touchwood which crumbles under the fingers; the
“goose-skin,” which is the impress of sand or gravel, shows that it was
buried in a soft state; and the bees, flies, gnats, and other insects
which are sometimes found in it delicately preserved, seem to disprove a
remote geologic antiquity. At the end of the rains it is usually carried
ungarbled to Zanzibar. When garbled upon the coast it acquires an
additional value of 1 dollar per frasilah. The Banyan embarks it on
board his own boat, or pays a freight varying from 2 to 4 annas, and the
ushur or government tax is 6 annas per frasilah with half an anna for
charity. About 8 annas per frasilah are deducted for “tare and tret.” At
Zanzibar, after being sifted and freed from heterogeneous matter, it is
sent by the Banyan retailer to the Indian market or sold to the foreign
merchant. It is then washed in solutions of various strengths: the lye
is supposed to be composed of soda and other agents for softening the
water; its proportions, however, are kept a profound secret. European
technologists have, it is said, vainly proposed theoretical methods for
the delicate part of the operation which is to clear the goose-skin of
dirt. The Americans exported the gum uncleaned, because the operation is
better performed at Salem. Of late years they have begun to prepare it
at Zanzibar, like the Hamburg traders. When taken from the solution, in
which from 20 to 37 per cent. is lost, the gum is washed, sun-dried for
some hours, and cleaned with a hard brush, which must not, however,
injure the goose skin; the dark “eyes,” where the dirt has sunk deep,
are also picked out with an iron tool. It is then carefully garbled with
due regard to colour and size. There are many tints and peculiarities
known only to those whose interests compel them to study and to observe
copal, which, like cotton and Cashmere shawls, requires years of
experience. As a rule, the clear and semi-transparent are the best; then
follow the numerous and almost imperceptible varieties of dull white,
lemon colour, amber yellow, rhubarb yellow, bright red, and dull red.
Some specimens of this vegetable fossil appear by their dirty and
blackened hue to have been subjected to the influence of fire; others
again are remarkable for a tender grass-green colour. According to some
authorities, the gum, when long kept, has been observed to change its
tinge. The sizes are fine, medium, and large, with many subdivisions;
the pieces vary from the dimensions of small pebbles to 2 or 3 ounces;
they have been known to weigh 5 lbs., and, it is said, at Salem a piece
of 35 lbs. is shown. Lastly, the gum is thrown broadcast into boxes and
exported from the island. The Hamburg merchants keep European coopers,
who put together the cases whose material is sent out to them. It is
almost impossible to average the export of copal from Zanzibar.
According to the late Lieutenant-Colonel Hamerton, it varies from
800,000 to 1,200,000 lbs. per annum, of which Hamburg absorbs 150,000
lbs., and Bombay two lacs’ worth. The refuse copal used formerly to
reach India as “packing,” being deemed of no value in commerce; of late
years the scarcity of the supply has rendered merchants more careful.
The price, also, is subject to incessant fluctuations, and during the
last few years it has increased from 4 dol. 50 cents to a maximum of 12
dollars per frasilah.

According to the Arabs, the redder the soil the better is the copal. The
superficies of the copal country is generally a thin coat of white sand,
covering a dark and fertilising humus, the vestiges of decayed
vegetation, which varies from a few inches to a foot and a half in
depth. In the island of Zanzibar, which produces only the chakazi or raw
copal, the subsoil is a stiff blue clay, the raised sea-beach, and the
ancient habitat of the coco. It becomes greasy and adhesive, clogging
the hoe in its lower bed; where it is dotted with blood-coloured
fragments of ochreish earth, proving the presence of oxidising and
chalybeate efficients, and with a fibrous light-red matter, apparently
decayed coco-roots. At a depth of from 2 to 3 feet water oozes from the
greasy walls of the pit. When digging through these formations, the gum
copal occurs in the vegetable soil overlying the clayey subsoil.

A visit to the little port of Saadani afforded different results. After
crossing 3 miles of alluvial and maritime plain, covered with a rank
vegetation of spear grass and low thorns, with occasional mimosas and
tall hyphænas, which have supplanted the coco, the traveller finds a few
scattered specimens of the living tree and pits dotting the ground. The
diggers, however, generally advance another mile to a distinctly formed
sea-beach, marked with lateral bands of quartzose and water-rolled
pebbles, and swelling gradually to 150 feet from the alluvial plain. The
thin but rich vegetable covering supports a luxuriant thicket, the
subsoil is red and sandy, and the colour darkens as the excavation
deepens. After 3 feet, fibrous matter appears, and below this copal,
dusty and comminuted, is blended with the red ochreish earth. The guides
assert that they have never hit upon the subsoil of blue clay, but they
never dig lower than a man’s waist, and the pits are seldom more than 2
feet in depth. Though the soil is red, the copal of Saadani is not
highly prized, being of a dull white colour; it is usually designated as
“chakazi.”

On the line inland from Bagamoyo and Kaole the copal-tree was observed
at rare intervals in the forests, and the pits extended as far as
Muhonyera, about 40 miles in direct distance from the coast. The produce
of this country, though not first-rate, is considered far superior to
that about Saadani.

Good copal is dug in the vicinity of Mbuamaji, and the diggings are said
to extend to 6 marches inland. The Wadenkereko, a wild tribe, mixed with
and stretching southwards of the Wazaramo, at a distance of two days’
journey from the sea, supply a mixed quality, more often white than red.
The best gums are procured from Hunda and its adjacent districts.
Frequent feuds with the citizens deter the wild people from venturing
out of their jungles, and thus the Banyans of Mbuamaji find two small
dows sufficient for the carriage of their stores. At that port the price
of copal varies from 2 dol. 50 cents to 3 dol. per frasilah.

The banks of the Rufiji River, especially the northern district of
Wánde, supply the finest and best of copal; it is dug by the Wawande
tribe, who either carry it to Kikunya and other ports, or sell it to
travelling hucksters. The price in loco is from 1 dol. 50 cents to 2
dollars per frasilah; on the coast it rises to 3 dol. 50 cents. At all
these places the tariff varies with the Bombay market, and in 1858
little was exported owing to the enlistment of “free labourers.”

In the vicinity of Kilwa, for four marches inland, copal is dug up by
the Mandandu and other tribes; owing to the facility of carriage and the
comparative safety of the country it is somewhat dearer than that
purchased on the banks of the Rufiji. The copal of Ngao (Monghou) and
the Lindi creek is much cheaper than at Kilwa; the produce, however, is
variable in quality, being mostly a dull white chakazi.

Like that of East African produce generally, the exploitation of copal
is careless and desultory. The diggers are of the lowest classes, and
hands are much wanted. Near the seaboard it is worked by the fringe of
Moslem negroids called the Wamrima or Coast clans; each gang has its own
mtu mku or akida’ao (mucaddum--headman), who, by distributing the stock,
contrives to gain more and to labour less than the others. In the
interior it is exploited by the Washenzi or heathen, who work
independently of one another. When there is no blood-feud they carry it
down to the coast, otherwise they must await the visits of petty retail
dealers from the ports, who enter the country with ventures of 10 or 12
dollars, and barter for it cloth, beads, and wire. The kosi--south-west
or rainy monsoon--is the only period of work; the kaskazi, or dry
season, is a dead time. The hardness of the ground is too much for the
energies of the people: moreover, “kaskazi copal” gives trouble in
washing on account of the sand adhering to its surface, and the flakes
are liable to break. As a rule, the apathetic Moslem and the futile
heathen will not work whilst a pound of grain remains in their huts. The
more civilised use a little jembe or hoe, an implement about as
efficient as the wooden spade with which an English child makes
dirt-pies.

The people of the interior “crow” a hole about six inches in diameter
with a pointed stick, and scrape out the loosened earth with the hand as
far as the arm will reach. They desert the digging before it is
exhausted; and although the labourers could each, it is calculated,
easily collect from ten to twelve lbs. per diem, they prefer sleeping
through the hours of heat, and content themselves with as many ounces.
Whenever upon the coast there is a blood-feud--and these are uncommonly
frequent--a drought, a famine, or a pestilence, workmen strike work, and
cloth and beads are offered in vain. It is evident that the copal-mine
can never be regularly and efficiently worked as long as it continues in
the hands of such unworthy miners. The energy of Europeans, men of
capital and purpose, settled on the seaboard with gangs of foreign
workmen, would soon remedy existing evils; but they would require not
only the special permission, but also the protection of the local
government. And although the intensity of the competition principle
amongst the Arabs has not yet emulated the ferocious rivalry of
civilisation, the new settlers must expect considerable opposition from
those in possession. Though the copal diggings are mostly situated
beyond the jurisdiction of Zanzibar, the tract labours under all the
disadvantages of a monopoly: the diwans, the heavy merchants, and the
petty traders of the coast derive from it, it is supposed, profits
varying from 80 to 100 per cent. Like other African produce, though
almost dirt-cheap, it becomes dear by passing through many hands, and
the frasilah, worth from 1 to 3 dollars in the interior, acquires a
value of from 8 to 9 dollars at Zanzibar.

Zanzibar is the principal mart for perhaps the finest and largest ivory
in the world. It collects the produce of the lands lying between the
parallels of 2° N. lat. and 10° S. lat., and the area extends from the
coast to the regions lying westward of the Tanganyika Lake. It is almost
the only legitimate article of traffic for which caravans now visit the
interior.

An account of the ivory markets in Inner Africa will remove sundry false
impressions. The Arabs are full of fabulous reports concerning regions
where the article may be purchased for its circumference in beads, and
greed of gain has led many of them to danger and death. Wherever tusks
are used as cattle-pens or to adorn graves, the reason is that they are
valueless on account of the want of conveyance.

The elephant has not wholly disappeared from the maritime regions of
Zanzibar. It is found, especially during the rainy monsoon, a few miles
behind Pangani town: it exists also amongst the Wazegura, as far as
their southern limit, the Gama River. The Wadoe hunt the animal in the
vicinity of Shakini, a peak within sight of Zanzibar. Though killed out
of Uzaramo, and K’hutu, it is found upon the banks of the Kingani and
the Rufiji rivers. The coast people now sell their tusks for 30 to 35
dollars’ worth of cloth, beads, and wire per frasilah.

In Western Usagara the elephant extends from Maroro to Ugogi. The
people, however, being rarely professional hunters, content themselves
with keeping a look-out for the bodies of animals that have died of
thirst or of wounds received elsewhere. As the chiefs are acquainted
with the luxuries of the coast, their demands are fantastic. They will
ask, for instance, for a large tusk--the frasilah is not used in inland
sales--a copper caldron worth 15 dollars; a khesi, or fine cloth,
costing 20 dollars; and a variable quantity of blue and white cottons:
thus, an ivory, weighing perhaps 3 frasilah, may be obtained for 50
dollars.

Ugogo and its encircling deserts are peculiarly rich in elephants. The
people are eminently hunters, and, as has been remarked, they trap the
animals, and in droughty seasons they find many dead in the jungles.
Ivory is somewhat dearer in Ugogo than in Unyamwezi, as caravans rarely
visit the coasts. It is generally bartered to return caravans for slaves
brought from the interior; of these, five or six represent the value of
a large tusk.

The ivory of Unyamwezi is collected from the districts of Mgunda
Mk’hali, Usukuma, Umanda, Usagozi, and other adjacent regions. When the
“Land of the Moon” was first visited by the Arabs, they purchased, it is
said, 10 farasilah of ivory with 1 frasilah of the cheap white or blue
porcelains. The price is now between 30 and 35 dollars per frasilah in
cloth, beads, and wire. The Africans, ignoring the frasilah, estimate
the value of the tusk by its size and quality; and the Arabs ascertain
its exact weight by steelyards. Moreover, they raise the weight of what
they purchase to 48 lbs., and diminish that which they sell to 23·50
lbs., calling both by the same name, frasilah. When the Arab wishes to
raise an outfit at Unyanyembe he can always command three gorahs of
domestics (locally worth 30 dollars) per frasilah of ivory. Merchants
visiting Karagwah, where the ivory is of superior quality, lay in a
stock of white, pink, blue, green, and coral beads, and brass armlets,
which must be made up at Unyanyembe to suit the tastes of the people.
Cloth is little in demand. For one frasilah of beads and brass wire they
purchase about one and a half of ivory. At K’hokoro the price of tusks
has greatly risen; a large specimen can scarcely be procured under 40
doti of domestics, one frasilah of brass wire, and 100 fundo of coloured
beads. The tusks collected in this country are firm, white, and soft,
sometimes running 6 farasilah (210 lbs.) The small quantity collected in
Ubena, Urori, and the regions east of the Tanganyika Lake, resembles
that of K’hokoro.

The ivory of Ujiji is collected from the provinces lying around the
northern third of the lake, especially from Urundi and Uvira. These
tusks have one great defect; though white and smooth when freshly taken
from the animal, they put forth after a time a sepia-coloured or dark
brown spot, extending like a ring over the surface, which gradually
spreads and injures the texture. Such is the “Jendai” or “Gendai” ivory,
well known at Zanzibar: it is apt to flake off outside, and is little
prized on account of its lightness. At Ujiji tusks were cheap but a few
years ago, now they fetch an equal weight of porcelain or glass beads,
in addition to which the owners--they are generally many--demand from 4
to 8 cloths. Competition, which amongst the Arabs is usually somewhat
unscrupulous, has driven the ivory merchant to regions far west of the
Tanganyika, and geography will thrive upon the losses of commerce.

The process of elephant-hunting, the complicated division of the spoils,
and the mode of transporting tusks to the coast, have already been
described. A quantity of ivory, as has appeared, is wasted in bracelets,
armlets, and other ornaments. This would not be the case were the
imports better calculated to suit the tastes of the people. At present
the cloth-stuffs are little prized, and the beads are not sufficiently
varied for barbarians who, eminently fickle, require change by way of
stimulant. The Arabs seek in ivory six qualities: it must be white,
heavy, soft, thick--especially at the point--gently curved--when too
much curved it loses from 10 to 14 per cent.--and it must be marked with
dark surface-lines, like cracks, running longitudinally towards the
point. It is evident from the preceding details that the Arab merchants
gain but little beyond a livelihood in plenty and dignity by their
expeditions to the interior. An investment of 1,000 dollars rarely
yields more than 70 farasilah (2450 lbs.) Assuming the high price of
Zanzibar at an average of 50 dollars per farasilah, the stock would be
worth 3500 dollars--a net profit of 1050 dollars. Against this, however,
must be set off the price of porterage and rations--equal to at least
five dollars per frasilah--the enormous interest upon the capital, the
wastage of outfit, and the risk of loss, which, upon the whole, is
excessive. Though time, toil, and sickness, not being matters of money,
are rarely taken into consideration by the Eastern man, they must be set
down on the loss side of the account. It is therefore plain that
commercial operations on such a scale can be remunerative only to a poor
people, and that they can be rendered lucrative to capitalists only by
an extension and a development which, depending solely upon improved
conveyance, must be brought about by the energy of Europeans. For long
centuries past and for centuries to come the Semite and the Hamite have
been and will be contented with human labour. The first thought which
suggests itself to the sons of Japhet is a tramroad from the coast to
the Lake regions.

The subject of ivory as sold at Zanzibar is as complicated as that of
sugar in Great Britain or of cotton in America. A detailed treatise
would here be out of place, but the following notices may serve to
convey an idea of the trade.

The merchants at Zanzibar recognise in ivory, the produce of these
regions, three several qualities. The best, a white, soft, and large
variety, with small “bamboo,” is that from the Banadir, Brava, Makdishu,
and Marka. A somewhat inferior kind, on account of its hardness, is
brought from the countries of Chaga, Umasai, and Nguru. The Wamasai
often spoil their tusks by cutting them, for the facility of transport;
and, like the people of Nguru and other tribes, they stain the exterior
by sticking the tooth in the sooty rafters of their chimneyless huts,
with the idea that so treated it will not crack or split in the sun.
This red colour, erroneously attributed at Zanzibar to the use of ghee,
is removed by the people with blood, or cowdung mixed with water. Of
these varieties the smaller tusks fetch from 40 to 50 dollars; when they
attain a length of 6 feet, the price would be 12_l._; and some choice
specimens 7½ feet long fetch 60_l._ A lot of 47 tusks was seen to fetch
1500_l._; the average weight of each was 95 lbs., 80 being considered
moderate, and from 70 to 75 lbs. poor.

The second quality is that imported from the regions about the Nyassa
Lake, and carried to Kilwa by the Wabisa, the Wahiao, the Wangindo, the
Wamakua, and other clans. The “Bisha ivory” formerly found its way to
the Mozambique, but the barbarians have now learned to prefer Zanzibar;
and the citizens welcome them, as they sell their stores more cheaply
than the Wahiao, who have become adepts in coast arts. The ivory of the
Wabisa, though white and soft, is generally small, the full length of a
tusk being 7 feet. The price of the “bab kalasi”--scrivellos or small
tusks, under 20 lbs.--is from 24 to 25 dollars; and the value increases
at the rate of somewhat less than 1 dollar per lb. The “bab gujrati or
kashshi,” the bab kashshi, is that intended for the Cutch market. The
tusk must be of middling size, little bent, very bluff at the point as
it is intended for rings and armlets; the girth must be a short span and
three fingers, the bamboo shallow and not longer than a hand. Ivory
fulfilling all these conditions will sell as high as 70 dollars per
frasilah,--medium size of 20 to 45 lbs.--fetches 56 to 60 dollars. The
“bab wilaiti,” or “foreign sort,” is that purchased in European and
American markets. The largest size is preferred, which ranging from 45
to 100 lbs., may be purchased for 52 dollars per frasilah.

The third and least valued quality is the western ivory, the Gendai, and
other varieties imported from Usagara, Uhehe, Urori, Unyamwezi, and its
neighbourhood. The price varies according to size, form, and weight,
from 45 to 56 dollars per frasilah.

The transport of ivory to the coast, and the profits derived by the
maritime settlers, Arab and Indian, have been described. When all fees
have been paid, the tusk, guarded against smuggling by the custom-house
stamp, is sent to Zanzibar. On the island scrivellos under 6 lbs. in
weight are not registered. According to the late Lieutenant-Colonel
Hamerton, the annual average of large tusks is not less than 20,000. The
people of the country make the weight range between 17,000 and 25,000
frasilah. The tusk is larger at Zanzibar than elsewhere. At Mozambique,
for instance, 60 lbs. would be considered a good average for a lot.
Monster tusks are spoken of. Specimens of 5 farasilah are not very rare,
and the people have traditions that these wonderful armatures have
extended to 227 lbs., and even to 280 lbs. each.

Amongst the minor articles of export from the interior, hippopotamus
teeth have been enumerated. Beyond the coast, however, they form but a
slender item in the caravan load. In the inner regions they are bought
in retail; the price ranges between 1 and 2 fundo of beads, and at
times 3 may be procured for a shukkah. On the coast they rise, when
fine, to 25 dollars per frasilah. At Zanzibar a large lot, averaging 6
to 8 lbs. in weight (12 lbs. would be about the largest), will sell for
60 dollars; per frasilah of 5 lbs. from 40 to 45 dollars: whilst the
smallest fetch from 5 to 6 dollars. Of surpassing hardness, they are
still used in Europe for artificial teeth. In America porcelain bids
fair to supplant them.

The gargatan (karkadan?), or small black rhinoceros with a double horn,
is as common as the elephant in the interior. The price of the horn is
regulated by its size; a small specimen is to be bought for 1 jembe or
iron hoe. When large the price is doubled. Upon the coast a lot fetches
from 6 to 9 dollars per frasilah, which at Zanzibar increases to from 8
to 12 dollars. The inner barbarians apply plates of the horn to helcomas
and ulcerations, and they cut it into bits, which are bound with twine
round the limb, like the wooden mpigii or hirizi. Large horns are
imported through Bombay to China and Central Asia, where it is said the
people convert them into drinking-cups, which sweat if poison be
administered in them: thus they act like the Venetian glass of our
ancestors, and are as highly prized as that eccentric fruit the coco de
mer. The Arabs of Maskat and Yemen cut them into sword-hilts,
dagger-hafts, tool-handles, and small boxes for tobacco, and other
articles. They greatly prize, and will pay 12 dollars per frasilah, for
the spoils of the kobaoba, or long-horned white rhinoceros, which,
however, appears no longer to exist in the latitudes westward of
Zanzibar island.

Black cattle are seldom driven down from the interior, on account of the
length and risk of the journey. It is evident, however, that the trade
is capable of extensive development. The price of full-grown bullocks
varies, according to the distance from the coast, between 3 and 5 doti;
whilst that of cows is about double. When imported from the mainland
ports, 1 dollar per head is paid as an octroi to the government, and
about the same sum for passage-money. As Banyans will not allow this
traffic to be conducted by their own craft, it is confined to the Moslem
population. The island of Zanzibar is supplied with black cattle,
chiefly from the Banadir and Madagascar, places beyond the range of this
description. The price of bullocks varies from 5 to 8 dollars, and of
cows from 6 to 9 dollars. Goats and sheep abound throughout Eastern
Africa. The former, which are preferred, cost in the maritime regions
from 8 to 10 shukkah merkani; in Usagara, the most distant province
which exports them to Zanzibar, they may be bought for 4 to 6 shukkah
per head. The Wasawahili conduct a small trade in this live stock, and
sell them upon the island for 4 to 5 dollars per head. From their large
profits, however, must be deducted the risk of transport, the price of
passage, and the octroi, which is 25 cents per head.

The exceptional expense of man-carriage renders the exportation of hides
and horns from the far interior impossible. The former are sold with the
animal, and are used for shields, bedding, saddle-bags, awnings,
sandals, and similar minor purposes. Skins, as has been explained, are
in some regions almost the only wear; consequently the spoils of a fine
goat command, even in far Usukuma, a doti of domestics. The principal
wild hides, which, however, rarely find their way to the coast, are
those of the rhinoceros--much prized by the Arabs for targes--the lion
and the leopard, the giraffe and the buffalo, the zebra and the quagga.
Horns are allowed to crumble upon the ground. The island of Zanzibar
exports hides and skins, which are principally those of bullocks and
goats brought from Brava, Marka, Makdishu, and the Somali country. The
korjah or score of the former has risen from 10 to 24 dollars; and the
people have learned to mix them with the spoils of wild animals,
especially the buffalo. When taken from the animal the hides are pinned
down with pegs passed through holes in the edges; thus they dry without
shrinking, and become stiff as boards. When thoroughly sun-parched they
are put in soak and are pickled in sea-water for forty-eight hours; thus
softened, they are again stretched and staked, that they may remain
smooth: as they are carelessly removed by the natives, the meat fat,
flippers, ears, and all the parts likely to be corrupted, or, to prevent
close stowage, are cut off whilst wet. They are again thoroughly
sun-dried, the grease which exudes during the operation is scraped off,
and they are beaten with sticks to expel the dust. The Hamburg merchants
paint their hides with an arsenical mixture, which preserves them during
the long months of magazine-storing and sea-voyage. The French and
American traders omit this operation, and their hides suffer severely
from insects.

Details concerning the growth of cereals in the interior have occurred
in the preceding pages. Grain is never exported from the lands lying
beyond the maritime regions: yet the disforesting of the island of
Zanzibar and the extensive plantations of clove-trees rendering a large
importation of cereals necessary to the Arabs, an active business is
carried on by Arab dows from the whole of the coast between Tanga and
Ngao (Monghou), and during the dear season, after the rains,
considerable profits are realised. The corn measures used by the
Banyans are as follows:--

   2 Kubabah (each from 1·25
     to 1·50 lbs., in fact,
     our “quart”)            = 1 Kisaga.
   3 Kubabah                 = 1 Pishi (in Khutu the Pishi = 2 Kubabah).
   4 Kubabah                 = 1 Kayla (equal to 2 Man).
  24 Kayla                   = 1 Frasilah.
  60 Kayla                   = 1 Jizlah, in Kisawahili Mzo.
  20 Farasilah               = 1 Kandi (candy).

As usual in these lands, the kubabah or unit is made to be arbitrary; it
is divided into two kinds, large and small. The measure is usually a
gourd.

The only timber now utilised in commerce is the mukanda’a or red and
white mangrove, which supplies the well-known bordi or “Zanzibar
rafters.” They are the produce of the fluviatile estuaries and the
marine lagoons, and attain large dimensions under the influence of
potent heat and copious rains. The best is the red variety, which, when
thrown upon the shore, stains the sand; it grows on the soft and slimy
bank, and anchors itself with ligneous shoots to the shifting soil. The
white mangrove, springing from harder ground, dispenses with these
supports; it is called mti wa muytu (“wild wood”), and is quickly
destroyed by worms. Indeed, all the bordi at Zanzibar begin to fail
after the fifth year if exposed to the humid atmosphere; at Maskat it is
said they will last nearly a century. The rafter trade is conducted by
Arab dows: the crews fell the trees, after paying 2 or 3 dollars in
cloth by way of ada or present to the diwan, who permits them to hire
labourers. The korjah or score of cut and trimmed red mangrove rafters
formerly cost at Zanzibar 1 dollar; the price has now risen to 2 and 3
dollars. This timber finds its way to Aden and the woodless lands of
Eastern and Western Arabia; at Jeddah they have been known to fetch 1
dollar each.

The maritime regions also supply a small quantity of the “grenadille
wood,” called by the people, who confound it with real ebony (Diospyros
ebenus), abnus and pingú. It is not so brittle as ebony; it is harder
than lignum-vitæ (G. officinalis), spoiling the common saw, and is
readily recognised by its weight. As it does not absorb water or grease,
it is sent to Europe for the mouth-pieces and flanges of instruments,
and for the finer parts of mills. The people use it in the interior for
pipe-bowls.

The mpira or caoutchouc-tree (Ficus elastica) grows abundantly
throughout the maritime regions. A few lumps of the gum were brought to
Zanzibar at the request of a merchant, who offered a large sum for a
few tons, in the vain hope of stimulating the exploitation of this
valuable article. The specimens were not, however, cast in moulds as by
the South American Indians; they were full of water, and even fouler
than those brought from Madagascar. To develop the trade European
supervision would be absolutely necessary during the season for tapping
the trees.

A tree growing upon the coast and common in Madagascar produces, when an
incision has been made in the bark, a juice inspissating to the
consistency of soft soap, and much resembling the Indian “kokam.” This
“kanya” is eaten by Arabs and Africans, with the idea that it “moistens
the body:” in cases of stiff joints, swellings of the extremities, and
contractions of the sinews, it is melted over the fire and is rubbed
into the skin for a fortnight or three weeks.

The produce and the value of the coco and areca palms have already been
noted. Orchella-weed (Rocilla fuciformis?), a lichen most valuable in
dyeing, is found, according to the late Lieut.-Colonel Hamerton, growing
on trees and rocks throughout the maritime regions. The important
growths of the interior are the frankincense and bdellium, the coffee
and nutmeg--which, however, are still in a wild state--the tamarind, and
the sisam or black wood. The largest planks are made of the mtimbati
(African teak?) and the mvule; they are now exported from the coast to
the island, where they have almost died out. As the art of sawing is
unknown, a fine large tree is invariably sacrificed for a single board.
It was the opinion of the late Lieut.-Colonel Hamerton that a saw-mill
at the mouth of the Pangani River would, if sanctioned by the local
government, be highly remunerative.

Cowries, called by the Arabs kaure, in Kisawahili khete, and in the
interior simbi, are collected from various places in the coast-region
between Ras Hafun and the Mozambique. This trade is in the hands of
Moslem hucksters; the Banyan who has no objection to the valuable ivory
or hippopotamus-tooth, finds his religion averse to the vile spoils of
the Cypræa. Cowries are purchased on the mainland by a curious specimen
of the “round-trade;” money is not taken, so the article is sold measure
for measure of holcus grain. From Zanzibar the cowrie takes two
directions. As it forms the currency of the regions north of the “Land
of the Moon,” and is occasionally demanded as an ornament in Unyamwezi,
the return African porters, whose labour costs them nothing, often
partly load themselves with the article; the Arab, on the other hand,
who seldom visits the northern kingdoms, does not find compensation for
porterage and rations. The second and principal use of cowries is for
exportation to the West African coast, where they are used in
currency--50 strings, each of 40 shells, or a total of 2000,
representing the dollar. This, in former days a most lucrative trade, is
now nearly ruined. Cowries were purchased at 75 cents per jizlah, which
represents from 3 to 3½ sacks, of which much, however, was worthless.
The sacks in which they were shipped cost in Zanzibar 1 dollar 44 cents,
and fetched in West Africa 8 or 9 dollars. The shells sold at the rate
of 80_l._ (60_l._ was the average English price) per ton; thus the
profits were estimated at 500 per cent., and a Hamburg house rose, it is
said, by this traffic, from 1 to 18 ships, of which 7 were annually
engaged in shipping cowries. From 75 cents the price rose to 4 dollars,
it even attained a maximum of 10 dollars, the medium being 6 and 7
dollars per jizlah, and the profits necessarily declined.

Cotton is indigenous to the more fertile regions of Eastern as well as
of Western Africa. The specimens hitherto imported from Port Natal and
from Angola have given satisfaction, as they promise, with careful
cultivation, to rival in fineness, firmness, and weight the
medium-staple cotton of the New World. On the line between Zanzibar and
the Tanganyika Lake the shrub grows almost wild, with the sole exception
of Ugogo and its two flanks of wilderness, where the ground is too hard
and the dry season too prolonged to support it. The partial existence of
the same causes renders it scarce and dear in Unyamwezi. A superior
quality was introduced by the travelling Arabs, but it soon degenerated.
Cotton flourishes luxuriantly in the black earths fat with decayed
vegetation, and on the rich red clays of the coast regions, of Usumbara,
Usagara, and Ujiji, where water underlies the surface. These almost
virgin soils are peculiarly fitted by atmospheric and geologic
conditions for the development of the shrub, and the time may come when
vast tracts, nearly half the superficies of the lands, here grass-grown,
there cumbered by the primæval forest, may be taught to bear crops
equalling the celebrated growths of Egypt and Algeria, Harar and
Abyssinia. At present the cultivation is nowhere encouraged, and it is
limited by the impossibility of exportation to the scanty domestic
requirements of the people. It is grown from seed sown immediately after
the rains, and the only care given to it is the hedging requisite to
preserve the dwarf patches from the depredations of cattle. In some
parts the shrub is said to wither after the third year, in others to be
perennial.

Upon the coast the cotton grown by the Wasawahili and Wamrima is chiefly
used as lamp-wicks and for similar domestic purposes; Zanzibar Island is
supplied from Western India. The price of raw uncleaned cotton in the
mountain regions is about 0·25 dollar per maund of 3 Arab lbs. In
Zanzibar, where the msufi or bombax abounds, its fibrous substance is a
favourite substitute for cotton, and costs about half the price. In
Unyamwezi it fetches fancy prices; it is sold in handfuls for salt,
beads, and similar articles. About 1 maund may be purchased for a
shukkah, and from 1 to 2 oz. of rough home-spun yarn for a fundo of
beads. At Ujiji the people bring it daily to the bazar and spend their
waste time in spinning yarn with the rude implements before described.
This cotton, though superior in quality, as well as quantity, to that of
Unyanyembe, is but little less expensive.

Tobacco grows plentifully in the more fertile regions of East Africa.
Planted at the end of the rains, it gains strength by sun and dew, and
is harvested in October. It is prepared for sale in different forms.
Everywhere, however, a simple sun-drying supplies the place of cocking
and sweating, and the people are not so fastidious as to reject the
lower or coarser leaves and those tainted by the earth. Usumbara
produces what is considered at Zanzibar a superior article: it is
kneaded into little circular cakes four inches in diameter by half an
inch deep: rolls of these cakes are neatly packed in plantain-leaves for
exportation. The next in order of excellence is that grown in Uhiáo: it
is exported in leaf or in the form called kambari, “roll-tobacco,” a
circle of coils each about an inch in diameter. The people of Khutu and
Usagara mould the pounded and wetted material into discs like cheeses, 8
or 9 inches across by 2 or 3 in depth, and weighing about 3 lbs.; they
supply the Wagogo with tobacco, taking in exchange for it salt. The leaf
in Unyamwezi generally is soft and perishable, that of Usukuma being the
worst: it is sold in blunt cones, so shaped by the mortars in which they
are pounded. At Karagwah, according to the Arabs, the tobacco, a
superior variety, tastes like musk in the water-pipe. The produce of
Ujiji is better than that of Unyamwezi; it is sold in leaf, and is
called by the Arabs hamúmí, after a well-known growth in Hazramaut. It
is impossible to assign an average price to tobacco in East Africa; it
varies from 1 khete of coral beads per 6 oz. to 2 lbs.

Tobacco is chewed by the maritime races, the Wasawahili, and especially
the Zanzibar Arabs, who affect a religious scruple about smoking. They
usually insert a pinch of nurah or coral-lime into their quids,--as the
Somal introduces ashes,--to make them bite; in the interior, where
calcareous formations are deficient, they procure the article from
cowries brought from the coast, or from shells found in the lakes and
streams. About Unyamwezi all sexes and ages enjoy the pipe. Farther
eastward snuff is preferred. The liquid article in fashion amongst the
Wajiji has already been described. The dry snuff is made of leaf toasted
till crisp and pounded between two stones, mixed with a little magádí or
saltpetre, sometimes scented with the heart of the plantain-tree and
stored in the tumbakira or gourd-box.

The other articles exported from the coast to Zanzibar are bees’-wax and
honey, tortoiseshell and ambergris, ghee, tobacco, the sugar-cane, the
wild arrowroot, gums, and fibrous substances; of these many have been
noticed, and the remainder are of too trifling a value to deserve
attention.

To conclude the subject of commerce in East Africa. It is rather to the
merchant than to the missionary that we must look for the regeneration
of the country by the development of her resources. The attention of the
civilized world, now turned towards this hitherto neglected region, will
presently cause slavery to cease; man will not risk his all in petty and
passionless feuds undertaken to sell his weaker neighbour; and commerce,
which induces mansuetude of manners, will create wants and interests at
present unknown. As the remote is gradually drawn nigh, and the
difficult becomes accessible, the intercourse of man--strongest
instrument of civilisation in the hand of Providence--will raise Africa
to that place in the great republic of nations from which she has
hitherto been unhappily excluded.

Already a line of steam navigation from the Cape of Good Hope to Aden
and the Red Sea, touching at the various important posts upon the
mainland and the islands of East Africa, has been proposed. This will be
the first step towards material improvement. The preceding pages have,
it is believed, convinced the reader that the construction of a tramroad
through a country abounding in timber and iron, and where only one pass
of any importance presents itself, will be attended with no engineering
difficulties. As the land now lies, trade stagnates, loanable capital
remains idle, produce is depreciated, and new seats of enterprise are
unexplored. The specific for existing evils is to be found in
facilitating intercourse between the interior and the coast, and that
this will in due season be effected we may no longer doubt.


APPENDIX II.


FIRST CORRESPONDENCE.


1.

  “East India House, 13th September, 1856.

“Sir,--I am commanded by the Court of Directors of the East India
Company to inform you, that, in compliance with the request of the Royal
Geographical Society, you are permitted to be absent from your duties as
a regimental officer whilst employed with an Expedition, under the
patronage of Her Majesty’s Government, to be despatched into Equatorial
Africa, for the exploration of that country, for a period not exceeding
two years. I am directed to add, that you are permitted to draw the pay
and allowances of your rank during the period of your absence, which
will be calculated from the date of your departure from Bombay.

  “I am, Sir,
  “Your most obedient humble Servant,
  “(Signature illegible.)

  “Lieutenant R. BURTON.”


2.

  “East India House, 24th October, 1856.

“Sir,--In consequence of a communication from the office of the
Secretary of State for War, intimating that you are required as a
witness on the trial by Court-Martial now pending on Colonel A. Shirley,
I am desired to convey to you the commands of the Court of Directors
that you instantly return to London for that purpose. In obeying this
order, you are required to proceed, not through France, but by the
steamer direct from Alexandria to Southampton. You will report yourself
to the Secretary of State for War immediately on your arrival. The agent
for the East India Company in Egypt has received instructions by this
mail to supply you with the necessary funds for your passage.

  “I am, Sir,
  “Your most obedient humble Servant,
  “(Signed) JAMES MELVILLE.

  “Lieutenant BURTON.”



3.

  “_The Military Secretary, East India House._

  “Aden, 14th November.

“Sir,--I have the honour to acknowledge your official letter of the 24th
October, conveying to me the commands of the Court of Directors to
return instantly to London by the steamer direct from Alexandria to
Southampton.

“The steamer in question left Alexandria on November 6th, at about 10
a.m. I received and acknowledged from the British Consulate your
official letter on the same day at Cairo, about noon. No steamer leaves
Alexandria before the 20th inst.; it is therefore evident that I could
not possibly obey the order within the limits specified.

“No mention was made about my returning to England by the next steamer,
probably because the Court-Martial pending upon Colonel A. Shirley will
before that time have come to a close. I need scarcely say, that should
I, on arrival at Bombay, find an order to that effect, it shall be
instantly and implicitly obeyed.

“Considering, however, that I have already stated all that I know upon
the subject of the Court-Martial in question--that I was not subpœnaed
in England--that I am under directions of the Royal Geographical
Society, and employed with an Expedition under the patronage of the
Foreign Office--that without my proceeding to Bombay, valuable
Government property would most probably have been lost, and the
preparations for the Expedition have suffered from serious delay--and
lastly, that by the loss of a few weeks a whole year’s exploration must
be allowed to pass by--I venture respectfully to hope that I have taken
the proper course, and that should I, on my arrival in India, find no
express and positive order for an immediate return to Europe, I may be
permitted to proceed forthwith to Africa.

“As a servant of the East India Company, in whose interests I have
conscientiously and energetically exerted myself for the space of 14
years, I cannot but request the Court of Directors to use their powerful
influence in my behalf. Private interests cannot be weighed against
public duty. At the same time, I have already embarked a considerable
sum in the materiel of the Expedition, paid passage money, and devoted
time, which might otherwise have been profitably employed, to the
subject of Equatorial Africa. I remained long enough in London to enable
the War Office to call for my presence as a witness, and I ascertained
personally from Major-General Beatson that he had not placed me upon his
list. And finally, I venture to observe, that by returning to Europe
now, I should be compromising the interests of the Royal Geographical
Society, under which I am in fact virtually serving.”


4.

  “_To the Secretary of the Royal Geographical Society, London._

“Sir,--I have the honour to forward, for the information of the
President and members of the Expeditionary Committee, a copy of a
communication to my address from the Military Secretary to the Court of
Directors, together with my reply thereto. On perusal of these
documents, you will perceive that my presence is urgently demanded in
England to give evidence on a Court-Martial, and that the letter
desiring me to proceed forthwith to England arrived too late in Egypt to
admit of my obeying that order. Were I now to proceed directly from
Bombay to England, it is evident that the Expedition which I am
undertaking under your direction, must be deferred to a future and
uncertain date. With a view to obviate this uncalled-for delay, I have
the honour to request that you will use your interest to the effect
that, as an officer virtually in your service, I may be permitted to
carry out the views of your Society; and that my evidence, which can be
of no importance to either prosecutor or defendant in the Court-Martial
in question, may be dispensed with. I start this evening for Bombay, and
will report departure from that place.

  “I have, &c.,
  “R. F. BURTON.

  “Camp, Aden, 14th November, 1856.”


5.

  “_To the Secretary of the Royal Geographical Society, London._

“Sir,--I have the honour to inform you that on the 1st Dec. 1856, I
addressed to you a letter which I hope has been duly received. On the
2nd instant, in company with Lt. Speke, I left Bombay Harbour, on board
the H.E.I.C’s. ship of war ‘_Elphinstone_’ (Capt. Frushard, I.N.,
commanding), _en route_ to East Africa. I have little to report that may
be interesting to geographers; but perhaps some account of political
affairs in the Red Sea may be deemed worthy to be transmitted by you to
the Court of Directors or to the Foreign Office.

“As regards the Expedition, copies of directions and a memorandum on
instruments and observations for our guidance have come to hand. For
observations, Lt. Speke and I must depend upon our own exertions,
neither serjeants nor native students being procurable at the Bombay
Observatory. The case of instruments and the mountain barometer have not
been forwarded, but may still find us at Zanzibar. Meanwhile I have
obtained from the Commanding Engineer, Bombay, one six-inch sextant, one
five and a-half ditto, two prismatic compasses, five thermometers (of
which two are B.P.), a patent log, taper, protractors, stands, &c.; also
two pocket chronometers from the Observatory, duly rated; and Dr. Buist,
Secretary, Bombay Geographical Society, has obliged me with a mountain
barometer and various instructions about points of interest. Lt. Speke
has been recommended by the local government to the Government of India
for duty in East Africa, and the services of Dr. Steinhaeuser, who is
most desirous to join us, have been applied for from the Medical Board,
Bombay. I have strong hopes that both these officers will be allowed to
accompany me, and that the Royal Geographical Society will use their
efforts to that effect.

“By the subjoined detailed account of preliminary expenses at Bombay, it
will be seen that I have expended £70 out of £250, for which I was
permitted to draw.

“Although, as I before mentioned, the survey of Eastern Intertropical
Africa has for the moment been deferred, the necessity still exists.
Even in the latest editions of _Horsburgh_, the mass of matter relative
to Zanzibar is borrowed from the observations of Capt. Bissel, who
navigated the coast in H.M’s. ships ‘_Leopard_’ and ‘_Orestes_’ about
A.D. 1799. Little is known of the great current which, setting
periodically from and to the Red Sea and the Persian Gulf, sweeps round
the Eastern Horn of Africa. The reefs are still formidable to
navigators; and before these seas can be safely traversed by steamers
from the Cape, as is now proposed, considerable additions must be made
to Capt. Owen’s survey in A.D. 1823-24. Finally, operations on the coast
will form the best introduction to the geographical treasures of the
interior.

“The H.E.I. Company’s surveying brig ‘_Tigris_’ will shortly be out of
dock, where she has been undergoing a thorough repair, and if fitted up
with a round house on the quarter-deck would answer the purpose well.
She might be equipped in a couple of months, and dispatched to her
ground before the South-west Monsoon sets in, or be usefully employed in
observing at Zanzibar instead of lying idle in Bombay Harbour. On former
surveys of the Arabian and African Coasts, a small tender of from thirty
to forty tons has always been granted, as otherwise operations are much
crippled in boisterous weather and exposed on inhospitable shores.
Should no other vessel be available, one of the smallest of the new
Pilot Schooners now unemployed at Bombay might be directed to wait upon
the ‘_Tigris_.’ Lt. H. G. Fraser, I.N., has volunteered for duty upon
the African Coast, and I have the honour to transmit his letter. Nothing
more would be required were some junior officer of the Indian Navy
stationed at Zanzibar for the purpose of registering tidal, barometric,
and thermometric observations, in order that something of the
meteorology of this unknown region may be accurately investigated.

“When passing through Aden I was informed that the blockade of the
Somali Coast had been raised without compensation for the losses
sustained on my last journey. This step appears, politically speaking, a
mistake. In the case of the ‘_Mary Ann_’ brig, plundered near Berberah
in A.D. 1825, due compensation was demanded and obtained. Even in India,
an officer travelling through the states not under British rule, can, if
he be plundered, require an equivalent for his property. This is indeed
our chief protection,--semi-barbarians and savages part with money less
willingly than with life. If it be determined for social reasons at Aden
that the blockade should cease and mutton become cheap, a certain
per-centage could be laid upon the exports of Berberah till such time as
our losses, which, including those of government, amount to 1380_l._,
are made good.

“From Harar news has reached Aden that the Amir Abubakr, dying during
the last year of chronic consumption, has been succeeded by a cousin,
one Abd el Rahman, a bigoted Moslem, and a violent hater of the Gallas.
His success in feud and foray, however, have not prevented the wild
tribes from hemming him in, and unless fortune interfere, the city must
fall into their hands. The rumour prevalent at Cairo, namely, that Harar
had been besieged and taken by Mr. Bell, now serving under ‘Theodorus,
Emperor of Ethiopia’ (the chief Cássái), appears premature. At Aden I
met in exile Sharmarkay bin Ali Salih, formerly governor of Zayla. He
has been ejected in favour of a Dankali chief by the Ottoman authorities
of Yemen, a circumstance the more to be regretted as he has ever been a
firm friend to our interests.

“The present defenceless state of Berberah still invites our presence.
The eastern coast of the Red Sea is almost entirely under the Porte. On
the western shore, Cosseir is Egyptian, Masawwah, Sawakin, and Zayla,
Turkish, and Berberah, the best port of all, unoccupied. I have
frequently advocated the establishment of a British agency at this
place, and venture to do so once more. This step would tend to increase
trade, to obviate accidents in case of shipwreck, and materially assist
in civilizing the Somal of the interior. The Government of Bombay has
doubtless preserved copies of my reports, plans, and estimates
concerning the proposed agency, and I would request the Royal
Geographical Society to inquire into a project peculiarly fitted to
promote their views of exploration in the Eastern Horn of Africa.
Finally, this move would checkmate any ambitious projects in the Red
Sea. The Suez Canal may be said to have commenced. It appears impossible
that the work should pay in a commercial sense. Politically it may, if,
at least, its object be, as announced by the Count d’Escayrac de
Lauture, at the Société de Geographie, to ‘throw open the road of India
to the Mediterranean coasting trade, to democratise commerce and
navigation.’ The first effect of the highway would be, as that learned
traveller justly remarks, to open a passage through Egypt to the
speronari and feluccas of the Levant, the light infantry of a more
regular force.

“The next step should be to provide ourselves with a more efficient
naval force at Aden, the Head-Quarters of the Red Sea Squadron. I may
briefly quote as a proof of the necessity for protection, the number of
British protégés in the neighbouring ports, and the present value of the
Jeddah trade.

“Mocha now contains about twenty-five English subjects, the principal
merchants in the place. At Masawwah, besides a few French and Americans,
there are from sixteen to twenty British protégés, who trade with the
interior, especially for mules required at the Mauritius and our other
colonies. Hodaydah has from fifty to sixty, and Jeddah, besides its
dozen resident merchants, annually witnesses the transit of some
hundreds of British subjects, who flock to the Haj for commerce and
devotion.

“The chief emporium of the Red Sea trade has for centuries past been
Jeddah, the port of Meccah. The custom-house reports of 1856 were kindly
furnished to me by Capt. Frushard, I.N. (now commanding the H.E.I.C’s.
sloop of war, ‘_Elphinstone_,’) an old and experienced officer, lately
employed in blockading Berberah, and who made himself instrumental in
quelling certain recent attempts upon Turkish supremacy in Western
Arabia. According to these documents, thirty-five ships of English build
(square-rigged) arrived at and left Jeddah between the end of September
and April, from and for various places in the East, China, Batavia,
Singapore, Calcutta, Bombay, the Malabar Coast, the Persian Gulf, and
Eastern Africa. Nearly all carried our colours, and were protected, or
supposed to be protected, by a British register: only five had on board
a European captain or sailing master, the rest being commanded and
officered by Arabs and Indians. Their cargoes from India and the Eastern
regions are rice, sugar, piece goods, planking, pepper, and pilgrims;
from Persia, dates, tobacco, and raw silk; and from the Mozambique,
ivory, gold dust, and similar costly articles. These imports in 1856 are
valued at 160,000_l._ The exports for the year, consisting of a little
coffee and spice for purchase of imports, amounts, per returns, to
120,000_l._ In addition to these square-rigged ships, the number of
country vessels, open boats, buggalows, and others, from the Persian
Gulf and the Indian Coasts, amount to 900, importing 550,000_l._, and
exporting about 400,000_l._ I may remark, that to all these sums at
least one-third should be added, as speculation abounds, and books are
kept by triple entry in the Holy Land.

“The next port in importance to Jeddah is Hodaydah, where vessels touch
on their way northward, land piece and other goods, and call on the
return passage to fill with coffee. As the head-quarters of the Yemen
Pashalik, it has reduced Mocha, formerly the great coffee mart, to
insignificance, and the vicinity of Aden, a free port, has drawn off
much of the stream of trade from both these ancient emporia. On the
African Coast of the Red Sea, Sawakin, opposite Jeddah, is a mere slave
mart, and Masawwah, opposite Hodaydah, still trades in pearls, gold
dust, ivory, and mules.

“But if the value of the Red Sea traffic calls, in the present posture
of events, for increased means of protection, the Slave-trade has equal
claims to our attention. At Aden energetic efforts have been made to
suppress it. It is, however, still carried on by country boats from
Sawakin, Tajurrah, Zayla, and the Somali Coast;--a single cargo
sometimes consisting of 200 head gathered from the interior, and
exported to Jeddah and the small ports lying north and south of it. The
trade is, I believe, principally in the hands of Arab merchants at
Jeddah and Hodaydah, and resident foreigners, principally Indian
Moslems, who claim our protection in case of disturbances, and
consequently carry on a thriving business. Our present Squadron in the
Red Sea consisting of only two sailing vessels, the country boats in the
African ports have only to wait till they see the ship pass up or down,
and then knowing the passage--a matter of a day--to be clear, to lodge
the slaves at their destination. During the past year, this trade was
much injured by the revolt of the Arabs against the Turks, and the
constant presence of the ‘_Elphinstone_,’ whose reported object was to
seize all vessels carrying slaves. The effect was principally moral.
Although the instructions for the guidance of the Commander enjoined him
to carry out the wishes of the Home and Indian Governments for the
suppression of Slavery, yet there being no published treaty between the
Imperial Government and the Porte sanctioning to us the right of search
in Turkish bottoms, his interference would not have been supported by
the Ottoman local authorities. It may be well to state, that after a
Firman had been published in the Hejaz and Gemen abolishing the trade,
the Turkish Governments of Jeddah and Hodaydah declared that the English
Commander might do as he pleased, but that they declined making any
written request for his assistance. For its present increased duties,
for the suppression of the Slave-trade, for the protection of British
subjects, and for the watching over Turkish and English interests in the
Red Sea, the Aden Squadron is no longer sufficient. During the last two
years it has numbered two sailing vessels, the ‘_Elphinstone_,’ a sloop
of war, carrying twelve 32-pounders, and two 12-pounders; and the
‘_Mahi_’ a schooner armed with one pivot gun, 32-pounder, and two
12-pounders. Nor would it be benefited by even a considerable increase
of sailing vessels. It is well known that, as the prevailing winds
inside the sea are favourable for proceeding upwards from September to
April, so on the return, during those months, they are strongly adverse.
A fast ship, like the ‘_Elphinstone_,’ requires 30 days on the downward
voyage to do the work of four. Outside the sea, during those months, the
current sets inward from the Indian Ocean, and a ship, in event of very
light winds falling, has been detained a whole week in sight of Aden.
From April to September, on the contrary, the winds set down the Red Sea
frequently with violence; the current inside the sea also turns towards
the Indian Ocean, and outside the S.W. Monsoon is blowing. Finally,
sailing ships draw too much water. In the last year the ‘_Elphinstone_’
kept the Arabs away from Jeddah till the meanness of the Sherif Abd el
Muttalib had caused his downfall. But her great depth (about from 14-6
to 15 ft.) prevented her approaching the shore at Hodaydah near enough
to have injured the insurgents, who, unaware of the fact, delayed their
attack upon the town till famine and a consequent pestilence dispersed
them. With little increase of present expenditure, the Red Sea might be
effectually commanded. Two screw-steamers, small enough to enter every
harbour, and to work steadily amongst the banks on either shore, and yet
large enough to be made useful in conveying English political officers
of rank and Native Princes, when necessary, would amply suffice, a
vessel of the class of H.M.’s gun-boat, ‘_Flying Fish_,’ drawing at
most 9 feet water, and carrying four 32-pounders of 25 cwt. each, as
broadside, and two 32-pounders of 25 cwt. each, as pivot guns, would
probably be that selected. The crews would consist of fewer men than
those at present required, and means would easily be devised for
increasing the accommodation of officers and men, and for securing their
health and comfort during cruises that might last two months in a hot
and dangerous climate.

“By means of two such steamers we shall, I believe, be prepared for any
contingencies which might arise in the Red Sea; and if to this squadron
be added an allowance for interpreters and a slave approver in each
harbour, in fact a few of the precautions practised by the West African
Squadron, the slave-trade in the Red Sea will soon have received its
death-blow, and Eastern Africa its regeneration at our hands.

  “I have, &c., &c.,
  “R. F. BURTON,
  “Commanding East African Expedition.

  “H.E.I.C. Sloop of War ‘_Elphinstone_,’
  “15th December, 1856.”


6.

  No. 961 of 1857.

  _From_ H. L. ANDERSON, _Esquire, Secretary to Government, Bombay, to_
  Captain R. F. BURTON, _18th Regiment Bombay N. I._

  Dated the 23rd July, 1857.

“Sir,--With reference to your letter, dated the 15th December, 1856, to
the address of the Secretary of the Royal Geographical Society of
London, communicating your views on affairs in the Red Sea, and
commenting on the political measures of the Government of India, I am
directed by the Right Honourable the Governor in Council to state, your
want of discretion, and due respect for the authorities to whom you are
subordinate, has been regarded with displeasure by Government.

  “I have the honour to be, Sir,
  “Your most obedient Servant,
  “(Signed) H. L. ANDERSON,
  “Secretary to Government.

  “Bombay Castle, 23rd July, 1857.”


7.

THE MASSACRE AT JUDDAH.

  (_Extract from the “Telegraph Courier,” Overland Summary, Bombay,
  August 4, 1858._)

“On the 30th June, a massacre of nearly all the Christians took place at
Juddah on the Red Sea. Amongst the victims were Mr. Page, the British
Consul, and the French Consul and his lady. Altogether the Arabs
succeeded in slaughtering about twenty-five.

“H.M. steamship Cyclops was there at the time, and the captain landed
with a boat’s crew, and attempted to bring off some of the survivors,
but he was compelled to retreat, not without having killed a number of
the Arabs. The next day, however, he succeeded in rescuing the few
remaining Christians, and conveyed them to Suez.

“Amongst those who were fortunate enough to escape was the daughter of
the French Consul; and this she succeeded in doing through the fidelity
of a native after she had killed two men with her own hands, and been
severely wounded in the encounter. Telegraphic dispatches were
transmitted to England and France, and the Cyclops is waiting orders at
Suez. As it was apprehended that the news from Juddah might excite the
Arab population of Suez to the commission of similar outrages, H.R.M’s
Vice-Consul at that place applied to the Pasha of Egypt for assistance,
which was immediately afforded by the landing of 500 Turkish soldiers,
under the orders of the Pasha of Suez.”


8.

  “Unyanyembe, Central Africa, 24th June, 1858.

“Sir,--I have the honour to acknowledge the receipt of your official
letter, No. 961 of 1857, conveying to me the displeasure of the
Government in consequence of my having communicated certain views on
political affairs in the Red Sea to the R. G. S. of Great Britain.

“The paper in question was as is directly stated, and it was sent for
transmission to the Board of Directors, or the Foreign Office, not for
publication. I beg to express my regret that it should have contained
any passages offensive to the authorities to whom I am subordinate; and
to assure the Right Honourable the Governor in Council that nothing was
farther from my intentions than to displease a government to whose kind
consideration I have been, and am still, so much indebted.

“In conclusion, I have the honour to remind you that I have received no
reply to my official letter, sent from Zanzibar, urging our claims upon
the Somal for the plunder of our property.

  “I have the honour to be, Sir,
  “Your most obedient Servant,
  “RICHARD. F. BURTON,
  “Commanding East African Expedition.

  To the Secretary to Government, Bombay.”



9.

No. 2845, of 1857.

  “Political Department.

  _From_ H. L. ANDERSON, Esq., _Secretary to Government of Bombay, to_
  Capt. R. F. BURTON, _Commanding E. A. Expedition, Zanzibar_.

  “Dated 13th June, 1857.

“Sir,--I am directed by the Right Honourable the Governor in Council to
acknowledge the receipt of your letter dated the 26th April last,
soliciting compensation on behalf of yourself and the other members of
the late Somalee Expedition, for losses sustained by you and them.

  Having regard to the conduct of the Expedition, His Lordship cannot
  think that the officers who composed it have any just claims on the
  Government for their personal losses.

“2. In reply, I am desired to inform you, that under the opinion copied
in the margin, expressed by the late Governor-General of India, the
Right Honourable the Governor in Council cannot accede to the
application now preferred.

  “I have, &c.,
  “(Signed) H. L. ANDERSON,
  “Secretary to Government.”

END OF FIRST CORRESPONDENCE.


SECOND CORRESPONDENCE.


1.

  “India Office, E. C., 8th November, 1859.

“Sir,--I am directed by the Secretary of State for India in Council to
forward for your information, copy of a letter addressed by Captain
Rigby, her Majesty’s Consul and agent at Zanzibar, to the Government of
Bombay, respecting the non-payment of certain persons hired by you to
accompany the Expedition under your command into Equatorial Africa, and
to request that you will furnish me with any observations which you may
have to make upon the statements contained in that letter.

“Sir Charles Wood especially desires to be informed why you took no
steps to bring the services of the men who accompanied you, and your
obligations to them, to the notice of the Bombay Government.

  “I am, Sir,
  “Your obedient servant,
  “(Signed) T. COSMO MELVILLE.

  “Captain R. Burton.”


2.

  “No. 70 of 1859.
  “Political Department.

  _From_ Captain C. P. RIGBY, _her Majesty’s Consul and British agent,
  Zanzibar, to_ H. L. ANDERSON, _Esquire, Secretary to Government,
  Bombay_.

  “Zanzibar, July 15th, 1859.

“Sir,--I have the honour to report, for the information of the Right
Honourable the Governor in Council, the following circumstances
connected with the late East African Expedition under the command of
Captain Burton.

“2. Upon the return of Captain Burton to Zanzibar in March last, from
the interior of Africa, he stated that, from the funds supplied him by
the Royal Geographical Society for the expenses of the Expedition, he
had only a sufficient sum left to defray the passage of himself and
Captain Speke to England, and in consequence the persons who accompanied
the Expedition from here, viz.: the Kafila Bashi, the Belooch Sepoys,
and the porters, received nothing whatever from him on their return.

“3. On quitting Zanzibar for the interior of Africa, the expedition was
accompanied by a party of Belooch soldiers, consisting of a Jemadar and
twelve armed men. I understand they were promised a monthly salary of
five dollars each; they remained with the Expedition for twenty months,
and as they received nothing from Captain Burton beyond a few dollars
each before starting, his highness the Sultan has generously distributed
amongst them the sum of (2300) two thousand three hundred dollars.

“4. The head clerk of the Custom House here, a Banian, by name Ramjee,
procured ten men, who accompanied the Expedition as porters; they were
promised five dollars each per mensem, and received pay for six months,
viz.: thirty dollars each before starting for the interior. They were
absent for twenty months, during three of which the Banian Ramjee
states that they did not accompany the Expedition. He now claims eleven
months’ pay for each of these men, as they have not been paid anything
beyond the advance before starting.

“5. The head clerk also states that after the Expedition left Zanzibar,
he sent two men to Captain Burton with supplies, one of whom was absent
with the Expedition seventeen months, and received nothing whatever; the
other, he states, was absent fifteen months, and received six months’
pay, the pay for the remaining nine months being still due to him. Thus
his claim amounts to the following sums:--

  Ten men for eleven months, at five dollars per man, per month,
                                                            550 Dollars.
  One man for seventeen „           „           „        „
                                                             85    „
  One    „    nine      „           „           „        „
                                                             45    „
                                                            ---
                                    Total dollars           680

“6. These men were slaves, belonging to ‘deewans,’ or petty chiefs, on
the opposite mainland. They travel far into the interior to collect and
carry down ivory to the coast, and are absent frequently for the space
of two or three years. When hired out, the pay they receive is equally
divided between the slave and the master. Captain Speke informs me, that
when these men were hired, it was agreed that one-half of their hire
should be paid to the men, and the other half to Ramjee on account of
their owners. When Ramjee asked Captain Burton for their pay, on his
return here, he declined to give him anything, saying that they had
received thirty dollars each on starting, and that he could have bought
them for a less sum.

“7. The Kafila Bashi, or chief Arab, who accompanied the Expedition, by
name Said bin Salem, was twenty-two months with Captain Burton. He
states, that on the first journey to Pangany and Usumbara, he received
fifty (50) dollars from Captain Burton; and that before starting on the
last expedition, to discover the Great Lake, the late Lieutenant-Colonel
Hamerton presented him with five hundred dollars on behalf of Government
for the maintenance of his family during his absence. He states that he
did not stipulate for any monthly pay, as Colonel Hamerton told him,
that if he escorted the gentlemen to the Great Lake in the interior, and
brought them in safety back to Zanzibar, he would be handsomely
rewarded; and both Captain Speke and Mr. Apothecary Frost inform me that
Colonel Hamerton frequently promised Said bin Salem that he should
receive a thousand dollars and a gold watch if the Expedition were
successful.

“8. As it appeared to me that Colonel Hamerton had received no authority
from Government to defray any part of the expenses of this Expedition,
and probably made these promises thinking that if the exploration of the
unknown interior were successful a great national object would be
attained, and that the chief man who conducted the Expedition would be
liberally rewarded, and as Captain Burton had been furnished with funds
to defray the expenses, I told him that I did not feel authorised to
make any payment without the previous sanction of Government, and Said
bin Salem has therefore received nothing whatever since his return.

“9. Said Bin Salem also states, that on the return of the Expedition
from Lake Tanganyika, (70) seventy natives of the country were engaged
as porters, and accompanied the Expedition for three months; and that on
arriving at a place called ‘Kootoo,’ a few days’ journey from the
sea-coast, Captain Burton wished them to diverge from the correct route
to the coast opposite Zanzibar, to accompany him south to Keelwa; but
they refused to do so, saying that none of their people ever dared to
venture to Keelwa; that the chief slave-trade on the east coast is
carried on. No doubt their fears were well grounded. These men received
nothing in payment for their three months’ journey, and, as no white man
had ever penetrated into their country previously, I fear that any
future traveller will meet with much inconvenience in consequence of
these poor people not having been paid.

“10. As I considered that my duty connected with the late Expedition was
limited to affording it all the aid and support in my power, I have felt
very reluctant to interfere with anything connected with the non-payment
of these men; but Said bin Salem and Ramjee having appealed to me, and
Captain Speke, since his departure from Zanzibar, having written me two
private letters, pointing out so forcibly the claims of these men, the
hardships they endured, and the fidelity and perseverance they showed,
conducting them safely through unexplored countries, and stating also
that the agreements with them were entered into at the British
Consulate, and that they considered they were serving the British
Government, that I deem it my duty to bring their claims to the notice
of Government; for I feel that if these men remain unpaid, after all
they have endured in the service of British officers, our name for good
faith in these countries will suffer, and that any future travellers
wishing to further explore the interesting countries of the interior
will find no persons willing to accompany them from Zanzibar, or the
opposite mainland.

“11. As there was no British agent at Zanzibar for thirteen months after
the death of Colonel Hamerton, the Expedition was entirely dependent on
Luddah Damha, the Custom-master here, for money and supplies. He
advanced considerable sums of money without any security, forwarded all
requisite supplies, and, Captain Speke says, afforded the Expedition
every assistance, in the most handsome manner. Should Government,
therefore, be pleased to present him with a shawl, or some small mark of
satisfaction, I am confident he is fully deserving of it, and it would
gratify a very worthy man to find that his assistance to the Expedition
is acknowledged.

  “I have, &c.,
  “(Signed) C. P. RIGBY, Captain,
  “H. M.’s Consul and British Agent, Zanzibar.”


3.

  “East India United Service Club, St. James’s Square,

  11th November, 1859.

“Sir,--I have the honour to acknowledge the receipt of your official
letter, dated the 8th of November, 1859, forwarding for my information
copy of a letter, addressed by Captain Rigby, Her Majesty’s consul and
agent at Zanzibar, to the Government of Bombay, respecting the
non-payment of certain persons, hired by me to accompany the Expedition
under my command into Equatorial Africa, and apprising me that Sir C.
Wood especially desires to be informed, why I took no steps to bring the
services of the men who accompanied me, and my obligations to them, to
the notice of the Bombay Government.

“In reply to Sir Charles Wood I have the honour to state that, as the
men alluded to rendered me no services, and as I felt in no way obliged
to them, I would not report favourably of them. The Kafilah Bashi, the
Jemadar, and the Baloch were servants of H.H. Sayyid Majid, in his pay
and under his command; they were not hired by me, but by the late
Lieut.-Col. Hamerton, H.M.’s Consul and H.E.I.C.’s agent at Zanzibar,
and they marched under the Arab flag. On return to Zanzibar, I reported
them as undeserving of reward to Lieut.-Col. Hamerton’s successor, Capt.
Rigby, and after return to England, when my accounts were sent in to the
Royal Geographical Society, I appended a memorandum, that as those
persons had deserved no reward, no reward had been applied for.

“Before proceeding to reply to Capt. Rigby’s letter, paragraph by
paragraph, I would briefly premise with the following remarks.

“Being ordered to report myself to Lieut.-Col. Hamerton, and having been
placed under his direction, I admitted his friendly interference, and
allowed him to apply to H.H. the Sultan for a guide and an escort.
Lieut.-Col. Hamerton offered to defray, from public funds, which he
understood to be at his disposal, certain expenses of the Expedition,
and he promised, as reward to the guide and escort, sums of money, to
which, had I been unfettered, I should have objected as exorbitant. But
in all cases, the promises made by the late consul were purely
conditional, depending entirely upon the satisfactory conduct of those
employed. These facts are wholly omitted in Capt. Rigby’s reports.

“2. Capt. Rigby appears to mean that the Kafila Bashi, the Baloch
sepoys, and the porters received nothing whatever on my return to
Zanzibar, in March last, from the interior of Africa, because the funds
supplied to me by the Royal Geographical Society for the Expenditure of
the Expedition, had been exhausted. Besides the sum of (1000_l._) one
thousand pounds, granted by the Foreign Office, I had expended from
private resources nearly (1400_l._) fourteen hundred pounds, and I was
ready to expend more had the expenditure been called for. But, though
prepared on these occasions to reward liberally for good service, I
cannot see the necessity, or rather I see the unadvisability of offering
a premium to notorious misconduct. This was fully explained by me to
Capt. Rigby on my return to Zanzibar.

“3. Capt. Rigby ‘_understands_’ that the party of Baloch sepoys,
consisting of a Jemadar and twelve armed men, were promised a monthly
salary of 5 dollars each. This was not the case. Lieut.-Col. Hamerton
advanced to the Jemadar 25, and to each sepoy 20 dollars for an outfit;
he agreed that I should provide them with daily rations, and he promised
them an ample reward from the public funds in case of good behaviour.
These men deserved nothing; I ignore their ‘fidelity’ and
‘perseverance,’ and I assert that if I passed safely through an
unexplored country, it was in no wise by their efforts. On hearing of
Lieut.-Col. Hamerton’s death, they mutinied in a body. At the Tanganyika
Lake they refused to escort me during the period of navigation, a month
of danger and difficulty. When Capt. Speke proposed to explore the
Nyanza Lake, they would not march without a present of a hundred
dollars’ worth of cloth. On every possible occasion they clamoured for
‘Bakshish,’ which, under pain of endangering the success of the
Expedition, could not always be withheld. They were often warned by me
that they were forfeiting all hopes of a future reward, and, indeed,
they ended by thinking so themselves. They returned to Zanzibar with a
number of slaves, purchased by them with money procured from the
Expedition. I would not present either guide or escort to the consul;
but I did not think it my duty to oppose a large reward, said to be
2,300 dollars, given to them by H.H. the Sultan, and I reported his
liberality and other acts of kindness to the Bombay Government on my
arrival at Aden. This fact will, I trust, exonerate me from any charge
of wishing to suppress my obligations.

“4. The Banyan Ramji, head clerk of the Custom House, did not, as is
stated by Capt. Rigby, procure me (10) ten men who accompanied the
Expedition as porters; nor were these men, as is asserted, (in par. 6),
‘Slaves belonging to deewans or petty chiefs on the opposite mainland.’
It is a notorious fact that these men were private slaves, belonging to
the Banyan Ramjee, who hired them to me direct, and received from me as
their pay, for six months, thirty dollars each; a sum for which, as I
told him, he might have bought them in the bazaar. At the end of six
months I was obliged to dismiss these slaves, who, as is usually the
case with the slaves of Indian subjects at Zanzibar, were mutinous in
the extreme. At the same time I supplied them with cloth, to enable them
to rejoin their patron. On my return from the Tanganyika Lake, they
requested leave to accompany me back to Zanzibar, which I permitted,
with the express warning that they were not to consider themselves
re-engaged. The Banyan, their proprietor, had, in fact, sent them on a
trading trip into the interior under my escort, and I found them the
most troublesome of the party. When Ramji applied for additional pay,
after my return to Zanzibar, I told him that I had engaged them for six
months; that I had dismissed them at the end of six months, as was left
optional to me; and that he had already received an unusual sum for
their services. This conversation appears in a distorted form and
improperly represented in the concluding sentence of Capt. Rigby’s 6th
paragraph.

“5 and 6. With respect to the two men sent on with supplies after the
Expedition had left Zanzibar, they were not paid, on account of the
prodigious disappearance of the goods intrusted to their charge, as I am
prepared to prove from the original journals in my possession. They were
dismissed with their comrades, and never afterwards, to the best of my
remembrance, did a day’s work.

“7 and 8. The Kafilah Bashi received from me for the first journey to
Usumbara (50) fifty dollars. Before my departure in the second
Expedition he was presented by Lieut. Colonel Hamerton with (500) five
hundred dollars, almost double what he had expected. He was also
promised, in case of good conduct, a gold watch, and an ample reward,
which, however, was to be left to the discretion of his employers. I
could not recommend him through Captain Rigby to the Government for
remuneration. His only object seemed to be that of wasting our resources
and of collecting slaves in return for the heavy presents made to the
native chiefs by the Expedition, and the consequence of his carelessness
or dishonesty was, that the expenditure on the whole march, until we had
learnt sufficient to supervise him, was inordinate. When the Kafilah
Bashi at last refused to accompany Captain Speke to the Nyanza Lake, he
was warned that he also was forfeiting all claim to future reward, and
when I mentioned this circumstance to Captain Rigby at Zanzibar, he then
agreed with me that the 500 dollars originally advanced were sufficient.

“9. With regard to the statement of Said bin Salim concerning the
non-payment of the seventy-three porters, I have to remark that it was
mainly owing to his own fault. The men did not refuse to accompany me
because I wished to diverge from the “correct route,” nor was I so
unreasonable as to expect them to venture into the jaws of the slave
trade. Several caravans that had accompanied us on the down-march, as
well as the porters attached to the Expedition, were persuaded by the
slaves of Ramjee (because Zanzibar was a nearer way to their homes) not
to make Kilwa. The pretext of the porters was simply that they would be
obliged to march back for three days. An extra remuneration was offered
to them, they refused it, and left in a body. Shortly before their
departure Captain Speke proposed to pay them for their services, but
being convinced that they might be prevented from desertion, I did not
judge advisable by paying them to do what would be virtually dismissing
them. After they had proceeded a few miles, Said bin Salim was sent to
recall them, on conditions which they would have accepted; he delayed,
lost time, and ended by declaring that he could not travel without his
dinner. Another party was instantly sent; they also loitered on the way,
and thus the porters reached the coast and dispersed. Before their
departure I rewarded the Kirangozi, or chief man of the caravan, who had
behaved well in exhorting his followers to remain with us. I was delayed
in a most unhealthy region for the arrival of some down porters, who
consented to carry our goods to the coast; and to prove to them that
money was not my object, I paid the newly-engaged gang as if they had
marched the whole way. Their willingness to accompany me is the best
proof that I had not lost the confidence of the people. Finally, on
arrival at the coast, I inquired concerning those porters who had
deserted us, and was informed by the Diwan and headman of the village,
that they had returned to their homes in the interior, after a stay of a
few days on the seaboard. This was a regrettable occurrence, but such
events are common on the slave-path in Eastern Africa, and the
established custom of the Arabs and other merchants, whom I had
consulted upon the subject before leaving the interior, is, not to
encourage desertion by paying part of the hire, or by settling for
porterage before arriving at the coasts. Of the seven gangs of porters
engaged on this journey, only one, an unusually small proportion, left
me without being fully satisfied.

“10. That Said bin Salim, and Ramji, the Banyan, should have appealed to
Captain Rigby, according to the fashion of Orientals, after my departure
from Zanzibar, for claims which they should have advanced when I refused
to admit them, I am not astonished. But I must express my extreme
surprise that Captain Speke should have written two private letters,
forcibly pointing out the claims of these men to Captain Rigby, without
having communicated the circumstance in any way to me, the chief of the
Expedition. I have been in continued correspondence with that officer
since my departure from Zanzibar, and until this moment I have been
impressed with the conviction that Captain Speke’s opinion as to the
claims of the guide and escort above alluded to was identical with my
own.

“11. With respect to the last paragraph of Captain Rigby’s letter,
proposing that a shawl or some small mark of satisfaction should be
presented by Government to Ladha Damha, the custom-master at Zanzibar,
for his assistance to the Expedition, I distinctly deny the gratuitous
assertions that I was entirely dependent on him for money and supplies;
that he advanced considerable sums of money without any security; that
he forwarded all requisite supplies, or, as Captain Speke affirms, that
he afforded the Expedition every assistance in the most handsome manner.
Before quitting Zanzibar for inner Africa, I settled all accounts with
him, and left a small balance in his hands, and I gave, for all
subsequent supplies, an order upon Messrs. Forbes, my agents in Bombay.
He, like the other Hindus at Zanzibar, utterly neglected me after the
death of Lieut.-Colonel Hamerton; and Captain Rigby has probably seen
some of the letters of complaint which were sent by me from the
interior. In fact, my principal merit in having conducted the Expedition
to a successful issue is in having contended against the utter neglect
of the Hindus at Zanzibar (who had promised to Lieut.-Colonel Hamerton,
in return for his many good offices, their interest and assistance), and
against the carelessness and dishonesty, the mutinous spirit and the
active opposition of the guide and escort.

“I admit that I was careful that these men should suffer for their
misconduct. On the other hand, I was equally determined that those who
did their duty should be adequately rewarded,--a fact which nowhere
appears in Captain Rigby’s letter. The Portuguese servants, the
negro-gun carriers, the several African gangs of porters, with their
leaders, and all other claimants, were fully satisfied. The bills drawn
in the interior, from the Arab merchants, were duly paid at Zanzibar,
and on departure I left orders that if anything had been neglected it
should be forwarded to me in Europe. I regret that Captain Rigby,
without thoroughly ascertaining the merits of the case (which he
evidently has not done), should not have permitted me to record any
remarks which I might wish to offer, before making it a matter of appeal
to the Bombay Government.

“Finally, I venture to hope that Captain Rigby has forwarded the
complaints of those who have appealed to him without endorsing their
validity; and I trust that these observations upon the statements
contained in his letter may prove that these statements were based upon
no foundation of fact.

  “I am, Sir,
  “Your obedient Servant,
  “R. F. BURTON,
  “Bombay Army.”


4.

  “India Office, E. C., 14th January, 1860.

“Sir,--I am directed by the Secretary of State for India in council, to
inform you that, having taken into consideration the explanations
afforded by you in your letter of the 11th November, together with the
information on the same subject furnished by Captain Speke, he is of
opinion that it was your duty, knowing, as you did, that demands for
wages, on the part of certain Belochs and others who accompanied you
into Equatorial Africa, existed against you, not to have left Zanzibar
without bringing these claims before the consul there, with a view to
their being adjudicated on their own merits, the more especially as the
men had been originally engaged through the intervention or the
influence of the British authorities, whom, therefore, it was your duty
to satisfy before leaving the country. Had this course been followed,
the character of the British Government would not have suffered, and the
adjustment of the dispute would, in all probability, have been effected
at a comparatively small outlay.

“Your letter, and that of Captain Speke, will be forwarded to the
Government of Bombay, with whom it will rest to determine whether you
shall be held pecuniarily responsible for the amount which has been paid
in liquidation of the claims against you.

  “I am, Sir,
  “Your obedient Servant,
  “(Signed) J. COSMO MELVILL.”


5.

“Sir,--I have the honour to acknowledge the receipt of your official
letter of the 14th January, 1860.

“In reply, I have the honour to observe that, not having been favoured
with a copy of the information on the same subject furnished to you by
Captain Speke, I am not in a position to understand on what grounds the
Secretary of State for India in council should have arrived at so
unexpected a decision as regards the alleged non-payment of certain
claims made by certain persons sent with me into the African interior.

“I have the honour to observe that I did not know that demands for wages
existed against me on the part of those persons, and that I believed I
had satisfactorily explained the circumstances of their dismissal
without payment in my official letter of the 11th November, 1859.

“Although impaired health and its consequences prevented me from
proceeding in an official form to the adjudication of the supposed
claims in the presence of the consular authority, I represented the
whole question to Captain Rigby, who, had he then--at that time--deemed
it his duty to interfere, might have insisted upon adjudicating the
affair with me, or with Captain Speke, before we left Zanzibar.

“I have the honour to remark that the character of the British
Government has _not_, and cannot (in my humble opinion) have suffered in
any way by my withholding a purely conditional reward when forfeited by
gross neglect and misconduct; and I venture to suggest that by
encouraging such abuses serious obstacles will be thrown in the way of
future exploration, and that the liberality of the British Government
will be more esteemed by the native than its character for sound sense.

“In conclusion, I venture to express my surprise, that all my labours
and long services in the cause of African Exploration should have won
for me no other reward than the prospect of being mulcted in a pecuniary
liability incurred by my late lamented friend, Lieut.-Colonel Hamerton,
and settled without reference to me by his successor, Captain Rigby.

  “I have the honour, &c. &c.,
  “RICHD. F. BURTON,
  “Captain, Bombay Army.”

  “The Under Secretary of State for India.”




INDEX.


  Abad bin Sulayman, rest of the party at the house of, at Kazeh, i.
  323.

  Abdullah, the Baloch, sketch of him, i. 136.

  Abdullah bin Nasib, of Zanzibar, his kindness, i. 270.

  Abdullah bin Jumah, and his flying caravan, i. 315.

  Abdullah bin Salim of Kazeh, his authority there, i. 329.

  Abdullah, son of Musa Mzuri, ii. 225, 226.

  Ablactation, period of, in East Africa, i. 117.

  Abrus precatorius used as an ornament in Karagwah, ii. 181.

  Adansonia digitata, or monkey-bread of East Africa, peculiarity of,
  i. 47.

  Africa, Central, great depression of, i. 409; ii. 8.

  African proverbs, i. 131.

  Africans, a weak-brained people, i. 33.

  Africans, East, their character and religion, ii. 324.

  Albinos, frequency of, amongst the Wazaramo tribes, i. 109.
  Description of them, 109.

  Amayr bin Said el Shaksi, calls on Capt. Burton, ii. 228. His
  adventures, 228.

  Ammunition, danger of, in African travelling, i. 264.

  Androgyne, the, ii. 159.

  Animals, wild, of Uzaramo, i. 63. Of Dut’humi, 87. Of Zungomero, 95.
  Of the Mrima, 103, 104. Of K’hutu, 160. Of the Usagara mountains, 162.
  Of the plains beyond the Rufuta, 181, 183. Of Ugogi, 242. Of the road
  to Ugogo, 247. In Ugogo, 300. Of Unyamwezi, ii. 15. Of Ujiji, 60.

  Antelopes in the Doab of the Mgeta river, i. 81. In the Rufuta plains,
  183. Of East Africa, 268, 269. On the Mgunda Mk’hali, 289. Of Ugogo,
  i. 300.

  Ant-hills of East Africa, i. 202, 203. In Unyamwezi, ii. 19. Clay of,
  chewed in Unyamwezi, 28.

  Anthropophagi of Murivumba, ii. 114.

  Ants in the Doab of the Mgeta river, i. 82. Red, of the banks of
  rivers in East Africa, 186. Maji m’oto, or “hot water” ants, 187. Near
  the Marenga Mk’hali river, 201. Account of them, 202. Annoyance of, at
  K’hok’ho, 276. Of Rubuga, 317. Of East Africa, 371. Of Unyamwezi,
  ii. 19. Of Ujiji, 64.

  Apples’ wood, at Mb’hali, i. 401.

  Arab caravans, description of, in East Africa, i. 342.

  Arab proverbs, i. 50, 86, 133, 135.

  Arabs of the East coast of Africa, i. 30. The half-castes described,
  32. Those settled in Unyanyembe, 323. History and description of their
  settlements, 327. Tents of, on their march, 353.

  Arachis Hypogæa, as an article of food, i. 198.

  Arak tree in Ugogo, i. 300.

  Archery in East Africa, ii. 301.

  Armanika, Sultan of Karagwah, account of, ii. 183. His government,
  183, 184. Besieged by his brother, ii. 224.

  Arms of the Wazaramo, i. 110. Of the Wadoe, 124. Of the Baloch
  mercenaries, 133. Of the “Sons of Ramji,” 140. Required for the
  expedition, 152. Of the Wasagara tribe, 199, 237. Of the Wahehe, 240.
  Of the Wagogo, 304. Of the Wahamba, 312. Of the porters of caravans,
  350. Of the Wakimbu, ii. 20. Of the Wanzamwezi, 30. Of the Wajiji, 66.
  Of the Wavinza, 75. Of the Watuta, 77. Of the people of Karagwah, 182.

  Army of Uganda, ii. 189.

  Artémise frigate, i. 1.

  Atmosphere, brilliancy of the, in Ugogo, i. 297.

  Asclepias in the Usagara mountains, i. 165.

  Ashmed bin Nuuman, the Wajhayn or “two faces,” i. 3.

  Assegais of the Wasagara tribe, i. 237. Of the Wanyamwezi, ii. 22. Of
  East Africa generally, 301.

  Ass, the African, described, i. 85. Those of the expedition, 151. Loss
  of, 180. Fresh asses purchased from a down caravan, 209.

  Asthma, or zik el nafas, remedy in East Africa for, i. 96.

  Atheism, aboriginal, ii. 342.


  Bakera, village of, i. 92.

  Bakshshish, in the East, ii. 84, 85. The propriety of rewarding bad
  conduct, 85. Influence of, ii. 172.

  Balochs, the, of Zanzibar, described, i. 14. Their knavery, 85. Their
  behaviour on the march, 127. Sketch of their character, 132. Their
  quarrels with the “Sons of Ramji,” 163. Their desertion and return,
  173. Their penitence, 177. Their character, 177, 178. Their discontent
  and complaints about food, 212, 221. And proposed desertion, 273, 278.
  Their bile cooled, 274. Their injury to the expedition, 319. Their
  breakfast on the march, 345. Their manœuvres at Kazeh, 376. Their
  desertion, ii. 111. Influenced by bakhshish, 217. Their quarrel with
  the porters, 253. Doing “Zam,” ii. 276. Sent home, 277.

  Bana Dirungá, village of, i. 71.

  Banadir, Barr el, or harbour-land, geography of, i. 30.

  Bangwe, islet of, in Lake Tanganyika, ii. 53. Described, 99.

  Banyans, the, of the East Coast of Africa, i. 19.

  Baobab Tree of East Africa, i. 47.

  Barghash, Sayyid, of Zanzibar, a state prisoner at Bombay, i. 3.

  Barghumi, the, of East Africa, ii. 294.

  Bark-cloth, price of, at Uvira, ii. 121.

  Basket making in East Africa, ii. 316.

  Basts of East Africa, ii. 317.

  Battle-axes of the Wanyamwezi, ii. 23. Of the East Africans, 307.

  Bazar-gup, or tittle-tattle in the East, i. 12.

  Bdellium Tree, or Mukl, of Ugogo, i. 299. Uses of, among the Wagogo,
  300.

  Beads, mode of carrying, in the expedition, i. 145. Account of African
  beads of commerce, 146. Currency at Msene, 398. Those most highly
  valued in Ujiji, ii. 72. Bead trade of Zanzibar, 390.

  Bedding required for the expedition, i. 154.

  Beds and bedding of the East Africans, i. 370.

  Beef, roast, and plum-pudding at Msene, i. 400.

  Bee-hives, seen for the first time at Marenga Mk’hali, i. 200. Their
  shape, 200. Of Rubuga, 317.

  Beer in East Africa, ii. 285. Mode of making it, 286.

  Bees in K’hutu, i. 120. But no bee-hives, 120. Wild, attack the
  caravan, i. 176, 248, 249. Annoyance of, at K’hok’ho, 276. Of East
  Africa, ii. 287.

  Beetles in houses at Ujiji, ii. 91, _note_. One in the ear of Captain
  Speke, 91, _note_.

  Belok, the Baloch, sketch of him, i. 135.

  Bérard, M., his kindness, i. 22.

  Berberah, disaster at, referred to, i. 68.

  Bhang plant, the, in Zungomero, i. 95. Smoked throughout East Africa,
  96. Effects produced by, 96. Used in Ujiji, ii. 70.

  Billhooks carried by the Wasagara tribe, i. 238.

  Birds, mode of catching them, i. 160. Scarcity of, in East Africa,
  270. Of Ugogo, 300. Period of nidification and incubation of, ii. 13.
  Of Unyamwezi, 16. Of Ujiji, 60.

  Births and deaths amongst the Wazaramo, customs at, i. 115, 116, 118,
  119.

  Bivouac, a pleasant, i. 245.

  Black Magic. See Uchawi.

  Blackmail of the Wazaramo, i. 70, 113. Of the Wak’hutu, 121. Of the
  Wazegura, 125. At Ugogo, 252. Account of the blackmail of East Africa,
  253. At Kirufuru, 264. At Kanyenye, 265. In K’hok’ho, 274. At Mdaburu,
  279. At Wanyika, 407. At Ubwari island, ii. 114.

  Blood of cattle, drunk in East Africa, ii. 282.

  Boats of the Tanganyika Lake, described, ii. 94.

  Boatmen of the Tanganyika Lake, ii. 101.

  Bomani, “the stockade,” village of, i. 47. Halt at, 47. Vegetation of,
  47, 48. Departure from, 51.

  Bombax, or silk cotton tree, of Uzaramo, i. 60.

  Bonye fiumara, accident to a caravan in the, ii. 270.

  Books required for the expedition, i. 155.

  Borassus flabelliformis, or Palmyra tree, in the plains, i. 180. Toddy
  drawn from, 181.

  Bos Caffer, or Mbogo, in the plains of East Africa, i. 181. Described,
  181. In Ugogo, 300.

  Botanical collection stolen, i. 319. Difficulty of taking care of the
  collection on the upward march, 320. Destroyed by damp at Ujiji,
  ii. 81.

  Boulders of granite on the Mgunda Mk’hali, i. 284. Picturesque effects
  of the, 285, 286.

  Bows and arrows of the Wagogo, i. 504. Of the Wanyamwezi, ii. 22. Of
  the East Africans, 301. Poisoned arrows, 305.

  Brab tree, or Ukhindu, of the Mrima, i. 48.

  Breakfast in the caravan described, i. 345. An Arab’s, at Kazeh,
  ii. 167.

  Buffaloes on the road to Ugogo, i. 247. In Unyamwezi, ii. 15. On the
  Rusugi river, ii. 40.

  Bumbumu, Sultan, of the Wahehe, i. 239.

  Burial ceremonies of the Wanyamwezi, ii. 25.

  Burkene, route to, ii. 179.

  Burton, Captain, quits Zanzibar Island, i. 1.
    The personnel and materiel of the expedition, i. 3, 10, 11.
    Smallness of the grant allowed by government, i. 4, _note_.
    The author’s proposal to the Royal Geographical Society, i. 5.
    Anchors off Wale Point, i. 8.
    His difficulties, i. 19.
    His MS. lost, i. 21.
    Melancholy parting with Col. Hamerton, i. 22.
    Lands at Kaole, i. 22.
    Melancholy reflections, i. 24.
    Transit of the valley of the Kingani and the Mgeta rivers, i. 41.
    The first departure, i. 43, 46.
    Tents pitched at Bomani, i. 51.
    Delay the second, i. 49.
    Departure from Bomani, i. 51.
    Arrives at the village of Mkwaju la Mvuani, i. 52.
    The third departure, i. 53.
    Halt at Nzasa, in Uzaramo, i. 54.
    Start again, i. 57.
    First dangerous station, i. 59.
    Second one, i. 63.
    Adventure at Makutaniro, i. 70.
    Author attacked by fever, i. 71.
    Third dangerous station, i. 73.
    Encamps at Madege Madogo, i. 79.
    And at Kidunda, i. 79.
    Loses his elephant-gun, i. 80.
    Arrives at a place of safety, i. 81.
    Enters K’hutu, i. 82.
    Has a hammam, i. 82.
    Thoroughly prostrated, i. 84.
    His troubles, i. 86.
    Prepares a report for the Royal Geographical Society, i. 89.
    Advances from Dut’humi, i. 91.
    Halts at Zungomero, i. 127.
    Leaves Zungomero, i. 158.
    Arrives at Mzizi Mdogo, i. 161.
    Recovery of health at, i. 161.
    Leaves Mzizi Mdogo, i. 165.
    Halts at Cha K’henge, i. 167.
    Desertion of the Baloch, i. 173.
    Their return, i. 174.
    Halts at Muhama, i. 178.
    Again attacked by fever, i. 179.
    Resumes the march, i. 180.
    Contrasts in the scenery, i. 184.
    Fords the Mukondokwa river, i. 188.
    Reaches Kadetamare, i. 189.
    Loss of instruments, i. 189.
    Halts at Muinyi, i. 193.
    Resumes the journey, i. 194.
    Halts at Ndábi, i. 196.
    Resumes the march and rests at Rumuma, i. 198.
    Abundance of its supplies, i. 198.
    Reaches Marenga Mk’hali, i. 203.
    Approaches the bandit Wahumba, i. 203.
    Leaves Marenga Mk’hali, i. 204.
    Halts at the basin of Inenge, i. 208.
    Wholesome food obtained there, i. 208.
    Exchange of civilities with a down caravan, i. 208.
    Painful ascent of the Rubeho, or Windy Pass, i. 213.
    Halt at the Great Rubeho, i. 215.
    Ascent of the Little Rubeho, i. 215.
    Descent of the counterslope of the Usagara mountains, i. 219.
    First view of the Ugogo mountains, i. 220.
    Halts at the third Rubeho, i. 221.
    Marches on the banks of the Dungomaro, i. 222.
    Reaches the plains of Ugogo, i. 223.
    Losses during the descent, i. 224.
    Halts at Ugogi, i. 241.
    Engages the services of fifteen Wanyamwezi porters, i. 244.
    Leaves Ugogi, i. 244.
    The caravan dislodged by wild bees, i. 248.
    Loses a valuable portmanteau, i. 249.
    Halts on the road for the night, i. 250.
    Leaves the jungle-kraal, i. 250.
    Sights the Ziwa, or Pond, i. 251.
    Provisions obtained there, i. 255.
    Recovery of the lost portmanteau, i. 257.
    Joins another up-caravan, i. 257, 258.
    Enters Ugogo, i. 259.
    Astonishment of the Wagogo, i. 263.
    Delayed at Kifukuru for blackmail, i. 264.
    Leaves Kifukuru, i. 265.
    Accident in the jungle, i. 265.
    Interview with Magomba, sultan of Kanyenye, i. 266.
    Hurried march from Kanyenye, i. 271.
    Arrives at Usek’he and K’hok’ho, i. 272.
    Difficulties of blackmail at K’hok’ho, i. 274.
    Departs from K’hok’ho, i. 275.
    Desertion of fifteen porters, i. 275.
    Trying march in the Mdáburu jungle, i. 277.
    Reaches Uyanzi, i. 279.
    Traverses the Fiery Field, i. 283.
    Arrives at the Mabunguru fiumara, i. 285.
    Losses on the march, i. 285.
    Reaches Jiwe la Mkoa, i. 286, 288.
    And Kirurumo and Jiweni, i. 289.
    Marches to Mgono T’hembo, i. 290.
    Arrives at the Tura Nullah, i. 291.
    And at the village of Tura, the frontier of Unyamwezi, i. 292, 313.
    Proceeds into Unyamwezi, i. 314.
    Halts at the Kwale nullah, i. 315.
    Visited by Abdullah bin Jumah and his flying caravan, i. 315.
    And by Sultan Maura, i. 316.
    Reaches Ukona, i. 318.
    Leaves Ukona and halts at Kigwa or Mkigwa, i. 319.
    Enters the dangerous Kigwa forest, i. 319.
    Loss of papers there, i. 319.
    Reaches the rice-lands of the Unyamyembe district, i. 321.
    Enters Kazeh in grand style, i. 322.
    Hospitality of the Arabs there, i. 323.
    Difficulties of the preparations for recommencing the journey,
    i. 377.
    Sickness of the servants, i. 379.
    Author attacked by fever, i. 380.
    Leaves Kazeh and proceeds to Zimbili, i. 386.
    Proceeds and halts at Yombo, i. 386, 387.
    Leaves Yombo and reaches Pano and Mfuto, i. 389.
    Halts at Irora, i. 389.
    Marches to Wilyankuru, i. 390.
    Hospitality of Salim bin Said, i. 391.
    And of Masid ibn Musallam el Wardi, at Kirira, i. 392.
    Leaves Kirira, and marches to Msene, i. 395.
    Delayed there, i. 399.
    Marches to the village of Mb’hali, i. 401.
    And to Sengati and the deadly Sorora, i. 401.
    Desertions and dismissals at Sorora, i. 402.
    Marches to Kajjanjeri, i. 403.
    Detained there by dangerous illness, i. 403.
    Proceeds and halts at Usagozi, i. 406.
    Some of the party afflicted by ophthalmia, i. 406.
    Quits Usagozi, and marches to Masenza, i. 406, 407.
    Reaches the Mukozimo district, i. 407.
    Spends a night at Rukunda, i. 407.
    Sights the plain of the Malagarazi river, i. 407.
    Halts at Wanyika, i. 407.
    Settlement of blackmail at, i. 408.
    Resumes the march, i. 408.
    Arrives at the bank of the Malagarazi river, i. 408.
    Crosses over to Mpete, i. 410.
    Marches to Kinawani, ii. 35.
    And to Jambeho, ii. 36.
    Fords the Rusugi river, ii. 37.
    Fresh desertions, ii. 38.
    Halts on the Ungwwe river, ii. 40.
    First view of the Tanganyika Lake, ii. 42.
    Arrives at Ukaranga, ii. 44.
    And at Ujiji, ii. 46.
    Visits the headman Kannena, ii. 81.
    Incurs his animosity, ii. 82, 84.
    Ill effects of the climate and food of Ujiji, ii. 85.
    Captain Speke sent up the Lake, ii. 87.
    Mode of spending the day at Ujiji, ii. 87.
    Failure of Capt. Speke’s expedition, ii. 90.
    The author prepares for a cruise, ii. 93.
    The voyage, ii. 99.
    Halts and encamps at Kigari, ii. 101.
    Enters the region of Urundi, ii. 101.
    Reaches and halts at Wafanya, ii. 106.
    Sails for the island of Ubwari, ii. 112.
    Anchors there, ii. 113.
    Leaves there and arrives at Murivumba, ii. 114.
    Reaches the southern frontier of Uvira, ii. 115.
    Further progress stopped, ii. 117, 119.
    Returns, ii. 121.
    Storm on the Lake, ii. 123.
    Passes the night at Wafanya, ii. 123.
    A slave accidentally shot there, ii. 124.
    Returns to Kawele, ii. 124.
    Improvement in health, ii. 129.
    The outfit reduced to a minimum, ii. 130.
    Arrival of supplies, but inadequate, ii. 132.
    Preparations for the return to Unyanyembe, ii. 155.
    The departure, ii. 157.
    The return-march, ii. 160.
    Pitches tents at Uyonwa, ii. 161.
    Desertions, ii. 161.
    Returns to the ferry of the Malagarazi, ii. 164.
    Marches back to Unyanyembe, ii. 165.
    Halts at Yombo, ii. 166.
    Re-enters Kazeh, ii. 167.
    Sends his companion on an expedition to the north, ii. 173.
    His mode of passing time at Kazeh, ii. 173, 198.
    Preparations for journeying, ii. 200.
    Shortness of funds, ii. 221.
    Outfit for the return, ii. 229.
    Departs from Kazeh, ii. 231.
    Halts at Hanga, ii. 232.
    Leaves Hanga, ii. 240.
    Returns through Ugogo, ii. 244.
    The letters with the official “wigging,” ii. 247.
    Takes the Kiringawana route, ii. 249.
    Halts at a den of thieves, ii. 252.
    And at Maroro, ii. 255.
    Marches to Kiperepeta, ii. 256.
    Fords the Yovu, ii. 258.
    Halts at Ruhembe rivulet, ii. 261.
    And on the Makata plain, ii. 262.
    Halts at Uziraha, ii. 263.
    Returns to Zungomero, ii. 264.
    Proposes a march to Kilwa, ii. 265.
    Desertion of the porters, ii. 266.
    Engages fresh ones, ii. 267.
    Leaves Zungomero, and resumes the march, ii. 276.
    Re-enters Uzaramo, ii. 277.
    And Konduchi, ii. 278.
    Sights the sea, ii. 278.
    Sets out for Kilwa, ii. 372.
    Returns to Zanzibar, ii. 379.
    Leaves Zanzibar for Aden, ii. 384.
    Returns to Europe, ii. 384.

  Butter in East Africa, ii. 284.


  Cacti in the Usagara Mountains, i. 165. Of Mgunda M’Khali, 286.

  Calabash-tree of East Africa, described, i. 147. In the Usagara
  mountains, i. 164, 229. Magnificence of, at Ugogo, 260. The only large
  tree in Ugogo, 299.

  Camp furniture required for the expedition, i. 152.

  Cannibalism of the Wadoe tribe, i. 123. Of the people of Murivumba,
  ii. 114.

  Cannabis Indica in Unyamwezi, i. 318.

  Canoes built of mvule trees, ii. 147. Mode of making them, 147.

  Canoes on the Malagarazi river, i. 409. On the “Ghaut,” 411.

  Capparis sodata, verdure of the, in Ugogo, i. 300.

  Carriage, cost of, in East Africa, ii. 414.

  Caravans of ivory, i. 17. Slave caravans, 17, 62. Mode of collecting a
  caravan in East Africa, 143. Attacked by wild bees, 4, 176. And by
  small-pox, 179. In East Africa, description of, 337. Porters, 337-339.
  Seasons for travelling, 339. The three kinds of caravan, 341. That of
  the Wanyamwezi, 341. Those made up by the Arab merchants, 342. Those
  of the Wasawahili, &c., 344. Sketch of a day’s march of an East
  African caravan, 344. Mode of forming a caravan, 348. Dress of the
  caravan, 349. Ornaments and arms worn by the porters, 349. Recreations
  of the march, 350. Meeting of two caravans, 351. Halt of a caravan,
  351. Lodgings on the march, 353. Cooking, 355, 356. Greediness of the
  porters, 356, 357. Water, 359. Night, 359. Dances of the porters, 360.
  Their caravan, 361, 362. Rate of caravan travelling, 362. Custom
  respecting caravans in Central Africa, ii. 54. Those on the Uruwwa
  route, 148. Accident to a, 270.

  Carissa Carandas, the Corinda bush in Uzaramo, i. 60.

  Carpentering in East Africa, ii. 309.

  Carvings, rude, of the Wanyamwezi, ii. 26.

  Castor plants of East Africa, i. 48. Mode of extracting the oil, 48.

  Cats, wild, in Unyamwezi, ii. 15.

  Cattle, horned, of Ujiji, ii. 59. Of Karagwah, 181.

  Cattle trade of East Africa, ii. 413.

  Cereals of East Africa, ii. 414.

  Ceremoniousness of the Wajiji, ii. 69.

  Ceremony and politeness, miseries of, in the East, i. 392.

  Cha K’henge, halt of the party at, i. 167.

  Chamærops humilis, or Nyara tree, of the Mrima, f. 48.

  Chawambi, Sultan of Unyoro, ii. 198.

  Chhaga, ii. 179.

  Chiefs of the Wazaramo, i. 113.

  Chikichi, or palm oil, trade in, at Wafanya, ii. 107.

  Childbirth, ceremonies of, in Unyamwezi ii. 23. Twins, 23.

  Children, mode of carrying, in Uzaramo, i. 110.

  Children, Wasagara mode of carrying, i. 237.

  Children, mode of carrying amongst the Wanyamwezi, ii. 22.

  Children, education of, in Unyamwezi, ii. 23, 24.

  Chomwi, or headman, of the Wamrima, i. 16. His privileges, 16, 17.

  Chumbi, isle of, i. 1.

  Chunga Mchwa, or ant, of the sweet red clay of East Africa, described,
  i. 201, 202.

  Chungo-fundo or siyafu, or pismires of the river banks of East Africa,
  described, i. 186.

  Chyámbo, the locale of the coast Arabs, i. 397.

  Circumcision, not practised by the Wazaramo, i. 108. Nor in the
  Unyamwezi, ii. 23.

  Clay chewed, when tobacco fails, in Unyamwezi, ii. 28.

  Climate of--
    Bomani, i. 49.
    Dut’humi, i. 89, 92.
    East Africa, during the wet season, i. 379.
    Inenge, i. 208.
    Kajjanjeri, ii. 403.
    Karagwah, ii. 180.
    Kawele, ii. 130.
    Kirira, i. 394.
    Kuingani, i. 44.
    Marenga Mk’hali, i. 203.
    Mrima, i. 102, 104.
    Msene, i. 400.
    Mohama, i. 179.
    Mzizi Mdogo, i. 161.
    Rumuma, i. 199.
    Sorora, i. 401.
    Tanganyika Lake, i. 142.
    Ugogo, i. 243, 259, 297.
    Ujiji, ii. 81.
    Unyamwezi, ii. 8-14.
    Usagara, i. 221, 222, 231.
    Wafanya, ii. 107.
    Zungomero, i. 94, 127, 156, 161, 163.

  Cloth, mode of carrying, in the expedition, i. 145. As an article of
  commerce, 148.

  Clothing required for the expedition, i. 154. Of travellers in East
  Africa, ii. 201.

  Clouds in Unyamwezi, ii. 12.

  Cockroaches in houses in East Africa, i. 370.

  Cocoa-nut, use of the, in East Africa, i. 36.

  Cocoa-tree, its limits inland, i. 160.

  Coffee, wild, or mwami, of Karagwah, ii. 180, 181, 187.

  Commando, pitiable scene presented after one, i. 185.

  Commerce of the Mrima, i. 39. Of Zungomero, 95. Of Uzaramo, 119. Of
  Ugogo, 308. Of the Wanyamwezi, ii. 29. Of the Nyanza Lake, 215.
  African, 224. Of Ubena, 270. Of Uvira, ii. 120. Of East Africa, 387.

  Conversation, specimen of, in East Africa, ii. 243, 244.

  Copal tree, or Msandarusi, of Uzaramo, i. 63.

  Copal trade of East Africa, ii. 403.

  Copper in Katata, ii. 148. In East Africa, 312.

  Cotton in Unyamwezi, i. 318. In Ujiji, i. 57. In East Africa, 417.

  Cowhage on the banks of the Mgeta river, i. 166.

  Cowries of Karagwah, ii. 185. Of East Africa, 416.

  Crickets of the Usagara mountains, i. 162. House, in East Africa,
  i. 370.

  Crocodiles of the Kingani river, i. 56. In Unyamwezi, ii. 15. In the
  Sea of Ujiji, 60. Of the Ruche River, 158.

  Crops of the Mrima, i. 102, _et seq_.

  Cucumbers at Marenga Mk’hali, i. 201. Wild, of Unyanyembe, ii. 285.

  Cultivation in the Mukondokwa hills, i. 196, 197. In the Usagara
  mountains, 229.

  Currency of East Africa, stock may be recruited at Kazeh, i. 334. Of
  Msene, i. 398. Of Ujiji, ii. 73. Of Karagwah, 185. Of Ubena, 270.
  Cynhyænas of Ugogo, i. 302. In Unyamwezi, ii. 15.

  Cynocephalus, the, in Unyamwezi, ii. 15. The terror of the country,
  15.


  Dancing of the Wazaramo women, i. 55. African, described, 360;
  ii. 291, 298.

  Darwayash, the Baloch, sketch of him, i. 137.

  “Dash,” i. 58. _See_ Blackmail.

  Datura plant of Zungomero, i. 95. Smoked in East Africa, 96. In
  Unyamwezi, 318.

  Day, an African’s mode of passing the, ii. 289, 290.

  Death, African fear of, ii. 331.

  Defences of the Wazaramo, i. 111, 117.

  Dege la Mhora, “the large jungle bird,” village of, i. 72. Fate of M.
  Maizan at, 73.

  Det’he, or Kidete of East Africa, ii. 293.

  Devil’s trees of East Africa, ii. 353.

  Dialects of the Wazaramo, i. 107. The Wagogo, 306. The Wahumba, 311.
  The Wanyamwezi, ii. 5. The Wakimbu, 20. The Wanyamwezi, 30.

  Diseases of the maritime region of East Africa, i. 105. Of the people
  of Usagara, 233. Of Ugogo, 299. Of caravans in East Africa, 342. Of
  Unyamwezi, ii. 11, 13, 14. Of East Africa, 318. Remedies, 321.
  Mystical remedies, 352, 353.

  Dishdasheh, El, or turban of the coast Arabs, i. 32.

  Divorce amongst the Wazaramo, i. 118. Amongst the East Africans
  generally, ii. 333.

  Drawing materials required for the expedition, i. 155.

  Dress, articles of, of the East Africans, i. 148. Of the Wamrima, 33,
  34. Of the Wazaramo, 109. Of the Wak’hutu, 120. Of the Wasagara, 253.
  Of the Wahete, 239. Of the Wagogo, 305. Of the Wahumba, 312. Of the
  Wakalaganza, 406. Of the Wakimbu, ii. 20. Of the Wanyamwezi, 21. Of
  the Wajiji, 64. Of the Warundi, 146. Of the Wavinza, 75. Of the
  Watuta, 77. Of the Wabuta, 78. Of the people of Karagwah, 182. Of the
  Wahinda, 220. Of the Warori, 271.

  Dodges of the ferrymen, ii. 164, 165.

  Dragon-flies in Unyamwezi, ii. 18.

  Drinking-bouts in East Africa, ii. 295, 335.

  Drinking-cups in East Africa, ii. 295.

  Drums and drumming of East Africa, ii. 295.

  Drunkenness of the Wazaramo, i. 118. Of the Wak’hutu, 120. And
  debauchery of the people of Msene, 398. Prevalence of, near the Lake
  Tanganyika, ii. 59. Of the Wajiji, 69.

  Dogs, wild, in Unyamwezi, ii. 16. Pariah, in the villages of Ujiji,
  60. Rarely heard to bark, 60.

  Dolicos pruriens on the banks of the Mgeta river, i. 166.

  Donkey-men of the expedition, i. 143.

  Dub-grass in the Usagara mountains, i. 171.

  Dunda, or “the Hill,” district of, i. 54.

  Dunda Nguru, or “Seer fish-bill” i. 69.

  Dungomaro, or Mandama, river, arrival of the caravan at the, i. 222.
  Description of the bed of the, 223.

  Dut’humi, mountain crags of, i. 65, 83, 86. Illness of the chiefs of
  the expedition at, 84. Description of the plains of, 86.


  Eagles, fish, of Ujiji, ii. 60.

  Ear-lobes distended by the Wasagara, i. 235. And by the Wahehe, 239.
  By the Wagogo, 304. And by the Wahumba, 312. Enlarged by the
  Wanyamwezi, ii. 21.

  Earth-fruit of India, i. 198.

  Earthquakes in Unyamwezi, ii. 13.

  Earwigs in East African houses, i. 370.

  Ebb and flow of the Tanganyika Lake, ii. 143. Causes of, 143, 144.

  Education of children in Unyamwezi, ii. 23, 24.

  Eels of the Tanganyika Lake, ii. 68.

  Eggs not eaten by the Wanyamwezi, ii. 29. Nor by the people of Ujiji,
  59.

  Elæis Guiniensis, or Mehikichi tree, in Ujiji, ii. 58.

  Elephants at Dut’humi, i. 87. In Ugogi, 242. At Ziwa, or the Pond,
  251. On the road to Ugogo, 247. On the Mgunda Mk’hali, 287, 289. In
  Ugogo, 300. On the banks of the Malagarazi river, 408. In Unyamwezi,
  ii. 15. Near the sea of Ujiji, 60. In East Africa, 297.

  Elephant hunting in East Africa, ii. 298.

  English, the, bow regarded in Africa, i. 31.

  Erhardt, M., his proposed expedition to East Africa, i. 3.

  Ethnology of East Africa, i. 106. Of the second region, 225, _et seq._

  Euphorbiæ at Mb’hali, i. 401. In Ugogo, 300. In the Usagara mountains,
  i. 165.

  Evil eye unknown to the Wazaramo, i. 116.

  Exorcism in East Africa, ii. 352.


  Falsehood of the coast clans of East Africa, i. 37. General in East
  Africa, ii. 328.

  Faraj, sketch of him and his wife, the lady Halimah, i. 129.

  Fauna of Ujiji, ii. 60.

  Fetiss-huts of the Wazaramo described, i. 57. Of East Africa, 369;
  ii. 346.

  Fetissism of East Africa, ii. 341, _et seq._

  Fever, marsh, cure in Central Asia for, i. 82. The author prostrated
  by, 84. Delirium of, 84. Of East Africa generally described, 105. The
  author and his companion again attacked by, at Muhama, 179. Common in
  the Usagara mountains, 233. Seasoning fever of East Africa, generally,
  379. Miasmatic, described, 403. Low type, 406. Seasoning fever at
  Unyamwezi described, ii. 14.

  Fire-arms and Gunpowder in East Africa, ii. 308.

  Fires in Africa, ii. 259.

  Fish of the Kingani river, i. 56. Of the Tanganyika Lake, ii. 59.
  Varieties of, 67. Narcotised in Uzaramo, 67. At Wafanya, 108.
  Considered as an article of diet in East Africa, 280.

  Fishing in the Tanganyika Lake, ii. 66.

  Fisi, or cynhyæna, of Uzaramo, i. 63. The scavenger of the country,
  i. 64.

  Flies in Unyamwezi, ii. 18. Fatal bite of one in, 19.

  Flowers of Usagara, i. 328. At Msene, 397.

  Fly, a stinging, the tzetze, i. 187.

  Fog-rainbow in the Usagara mountains, i. 222.

  Food of the Wamrima, i. 35. Of the Wazaramo, 56. Of the people of
  Zungomero, 95, 96, 97. Of the Wak’hutu, 120. Of the expedition, 151,
  198. Of the people of Marenga Mk’hali, 201. Of the Wagogo, 310, 311.
  Of Rubuga, 317. Of Kazeh, 329. Of Arabs of, 331-334. Of Wilyanhuru,
  392-394. Of Unyamwezi, ii. 28, 29. Of Ujiji, 70, 88. Of Karagwah, 180,
  181. Of Uganda, 196, 197. Of the Warori tribe, 273. East Africa
  generally, 280.

  Fords in East Africa, i. 336.

  Fowls not eaten by the Wanyamwezi, ii. 29. Nor by the people of Ujiji,
  59.

  Frankincense of Ugogo, i. 299.

  Frogs in Unyamwezi, ii. 17. Night concerts of, 17. Of the sea of
  Ujiji, 61.

  Frost, Mr., of the Zanzibar consulate, i. 3, 21.

  Fruits of East Africa, i. 48, 201. Of Usagara, 228. Of Yombo, 337. Of
  Mb’hali, 401. Of Ujiji, ii. 58.

  Fundi, or itinerant slave-artizans of Unyanyembe, i. 328. Caravans of
  the, 344.

  Fundikira, Sultan of Unyamwezi, notice of him, ii. 31.

  Fundikira, Sultan of Ititenza, i. 326.

  Funerals of the Wazaramo, i. 119. Of the Wadoe, 124.

  Funza, brother of Sultan Matanza of Msene, i. 396.

  Furniture of East African houses, i. 371. Kitanda, or bedstead, 371.
  Bedding, 371. Of the houses of the Wanyamwezi, ii. 26.


  Gadflies, annoyance of, at K’hok’ho, i. 276.

  Gaetano, the Goanese servant, sketch of his character, i. 131. Taken
  ill, 380. His epileptic fits at Msene, 395, 399.

  Gama river, i. 123.

  Gambling in East Africa, ii. 279.

  Game in Uzaramo, i. 59, 71. In the Doab of the Mgeta river, 81. In
  K’huta, 120. In the plains between the Rufuta and the Mukondokwa
  mountains, 181. In Ugogi, 242. At Ziwa, or the Pond, 251. At Kanyenye,
  268. Scarcity of, in East Africa generally, 268.

  Ganza Mikono, sultan of Usek’he, i. 272.

  Geography of the second region, i. 225, _et seq_. Of Ugogo, 295. Arab
  oral, ii. 144-154.

  Geology of the maritime region of East Africa, i. 102. Of the Usagara
  mountains, 227. Of the road to Ugogo, 247. Of Mgunda Mk’hali,
  i. 282-284. Of Ugogo, i. 295. Of Unyamwezi, ii. 6.

  Ghost-faith of the Africans, ii. 344.

  Gingerbread tree, described, i. 47.

  Ginyindo, march to, ii. 253. Quarrel of the Baloch and porters at,
  253.

  Giraffes in Ugogi, i. 242. Native names of the, 242, 243. Use made of
  them, 243. At Ziwa, or the Pond, 251. On the Mgunda Mk’hali, 289. In
  Unyamwezi, ii. 15.

  Girls of the Wanyamwezi, strange custom of the, ii. 24.

  Gnus in the Doab of the Mgeta river, i. 81. At Dut’humi, 87.

  Goats of Ujiji, ii. 59.

  Goma pass, the, i. 168, 170.

  Gombe, mud-fish in the nullah of, i. 334.

  Gombe Nullah, i. 395, 397, 401, 403, ii. 8.

  Goose, ruddy, Egyptian, i. 317.

  Gourd, the, a musical instrument in East Africa, ii. 294.

  Gourds of the Myombo tree in Usagara, i. 229.

  Government of the Wazaramo, i. 113. Of the Wak’hutu, 120, 121. Of the
  Wanyamwezi, ii. 31. Of the Wajiji, 71. Of the northern kingdoms of
  Africa, 174. Mode of, in Uganda, 192. Forms of, in East Africa, 360.

  Grain, mode of grinding, in East Africa, i. 111, 372. That of Msene,
  397, 398. Of Ujiji, ii. 57.

  Grapes, wild, seen for the first time, ii. 41.

  Grasses of the swamps and marshes of the Mrima, i. 103, 104. The dub
  of the Usagara mountains, 171.

  Graveyards, absence of, in East Africa, ii. 25.

  Ground-fish of the Tanganyika Lake, ii. 68.

  Ground-nut oil in East Africa, ii. 285.

  Grouse, sand, at Ziwa, i. 251.

  Guest welcome, or hishmat l’il gharib, of the Arabs of Kazeh, i. 329.

  Gugu-mbua, or wild sugar-cane, i. 71.

  Guinea-fowls in the Doab of the Mgeta river, i. 81. Of the Rufuta
  plains, 183. Of Ugogi, 242.

  Guinea-palm of Ujiji, ii. 58.

  Gul Mohammed, a Baloch of the party, sketch of him, i. 139. His
  conversation with Muzungu Mbaya, ii. 244.

  Gulls, sea, of the sea of Ujiji, ii. 60.

  Gungu, district of, in Ujiji, ii. 53. Its former and present chiefs,
  53. Plundered by the Watuta tribe, 76.


  Hail-storms in Unyamwezi, ii. 10.

  Hair, mode of dressing the, amongst the Wazaramo, i. 108. And the
  Wak’hutu, 120. Wasagara fashions of dressing the, 234. Wagogo mode,
  304. Amongst the Wanyamwezi, ii. 26. Wabuha mode of dressing the, 78.
  And in Uganda, 189.

  Halimah, the lady, sketch of, i. 129. Taken ill, 200. Returns home,
  ii. 277.

  Hamdan, Sayyid, of Zanzibar, his death, i. 2.

  Hamerton, Lieut.-Col., his friendship with the late Sultan of
  Zanzibar, i. 2. Interest taken by him in the expedition, 3. His
  objections to an expedition into the interior _viâ_ Kilwa, 5. His
  death, 66. His character, 69.

  Hamid bin Salim, his journey to the Wahumba tribe, i. 311.

  Hammals of the Wanyamwezi, character of the, ii. 162.

  Hammam, or primitive form of the lamp-bath, i. 82.

  Hanga, journey to, ii. 232. Difficulties with the porters there, 232.

  Hartebeest in the Doab of the Mgeta river, i. 81.

  Hawks of the Usagara mountains, i. 162.

  Hembe, or “the wild buffalo’s horn,” his village, i. 72.

  Hides, African mode of dressing, i. 236.

  Hilal bin Nasur, his information respecting the southern provinces,
  ii. 228.

  Hippopotami on the east coast of Africa, i. 9, 12, 24, 56. In
  Unyamwezi, ii. 15. In the Ruche river, 52, 158. In the sea of Ujiji,
  60.

  Hishmat l’il gharib, or guest welcome of the Arabs of Kazeh, i. 323,
  329.

  Hogs of Ugogo, i. 300.

  Home, African attachment for, ii. 333.

  Honey in Ujiji, ii. 59. Abundance of, in East Africa, 287. Two kinds
  of, 288.

  Houses of Kuingani, i. 43. The wayside, or kraals, 53, 181, 230. Of
  the Wak’hutu, 97, 121. Of the Wazaramo, 110. Of the Wagogo, 306. Of
  the Arabs in Unyanyembe, 328, 329. Of stone, ignored by Inner Africa,
  93. Of the country beyond Marenga Mk’hali, called “Tembe,” 207. The
  Tembe of the Wahete, 240. The Khambi or, Kraal, 354. The Tembe of the
  Usagara, 366. Houses of East Africa generally described, 364, ii. 334.
  Pests of the houses, i. 370. Furniture, 371. Of the Wanyamwezi,
  ii. 26. Of Karagwah, 182, 183.

  Hullak, the buffoon, i. 46.

  Hunting season in East Africa, ii. 296.

  Hyænas in Ugogo, i. 276. In Ujiji, ii. 60.

  Hyderabad, story of the police officer of, i. 217.


  Ibanda, second sultan of Ukerewe, ii. 214.

  Id, son of Muallim Salim, his civility at Msene, i. 399.

  Iguanas of the Usagara mountains, i. 162.

  Ihara or Kwihara, physical features of the plain of, i. 326.

  Ikuka of Uhehe, march to, ii. 252.

  Illness of the whole party at Ujiji, ii. 85, 86.

  Immigration in Central Africa, ii. 19.

  Imports and exports in East Africa, ii. 387.

  Indian Ocean, evening on the, i. 1. View of the Mrima from the, 8.

  Industry, commercial, of the Wanyamwezi, ii. 29.

  Inenge, basin of, i. 208. Halt at the, 208.

  Influenza, the, in Unyamwezi, ii. 13.

  Influenza, remedy in East Africa for, i. 96.

  Inhospitality of Africans, ii. 131, 327.

  Inhumanity of the Africans, ii. 329.

  Insects in East Africa, i. 186, 187, 201, 202. In houses in East
  Africa, 370. In Ujiji, ii. 61.

  Instruments required for the expedition, i. 153. Breakage of, on the
  road, 169. Accidents to which they are liable in East African travels,
  189, 191.

  Intellect of the East African, ii. 337.

  Iron in Karagwah, ii. 185. In Urori, 27. And in Ubena, 27. Of East
  Africa generally, 311.

  Ironga, sultan of U’ungu, defeats the Warori, ii. 75.

  Ironware of Uvira, ii. 121.

  Irora, village of, i. 389. Halt at, 389. Sultan of, 389. Return to,
  ii. 166.

  Irrigation, artificial, in K’hutu, i. 86.

  Isa bin Hijji, the Arab merchant, exchange of civilities with, i. 208,
  211. Places a tembe at Kazeh at the disposal of the party, 323.

  Isa bin Hosayn, the favourite of the Sultan of Uganda, ii. 193.

  Ismail, the Baloch, illness of, i. 381.

  Ititenya, settlement of, i. 326.

  Ivory, caravan of, i. 17. Frauds perpetrated on the owners of tusks,
  17. Mode of buying and selling in East Africa, 39. Touters of
  Zungomero, 97. Mode of carrying large tusks of, 341, 348. Price of,
  at Uvira, ii. 120, 121. Ivory of Ubena, 270. Trade in Ivory, 408.

  Iwanza, or public-houses, in Unyamwezi, ii. 1, 27. Described, 27, 279,
  285.

  Iwemba, province of, ii. 153.


  Jackal, silver, of Ugogi, i. 242.

  Jambeho, arrival of the party at the settlements of, ii. 36.
  Cultivation of, 36. Scarcity of food in, 36. Revisited, 163.

  Jami of Harar, Shaykh, of the Somal, i. 33.

  Jamshid, Sayyid, of Zanzibar, his death, i. 2.

  Jasmine, the, in Usagara, i. 228.

  Jealousy of the Wazaramo, i. 61.

  Jelai, Seedy, the Baloch, sketch of him, i. 137.

  Jezirah, island of, ii. 212.

  Jiwe la Mkoa, or the round rock, arrival of the party at, i. 286.
  Description of it, 287; ii. 242. Halt at, 242.

  Jiweni, arrival of the expedition at, i. 289. Water at, 289.

  Jongo, or millepedes, in Unyamwezi, ii. 18.

  Jua, Dar el, or home of hunger, i. 69.

  Juma Mfumbi, Diwan of Saadani, his exaction of tribute from the Wadoe,
  i. 123.

  Jungle, insect pests of the, i. 186. Fire in the jungle in summer,
  ii. 163.

  Jungle-thorn, on the road to Ugogo, i. 246. Near Kanyenye, 271.


  Kadetamare, arrival of the party at, i. 189. Loss of instruments at,
  189, 190.

  Kaffirs of the Cape, date of their migration to the banks of the Kei,
  ii. 5.

  Kafuro, district of, in Karagwah, ii. 177.

  Kajjanjeri, village of, arrival of the party at, i. 403. Deadly
  climate of, 403.

  Kannena, headman of Kawele, visit to, ii. 81. Description of him, 81.
  His mode of opening trade, 82. His ill-will, 83, 84. Agrees to take
  the party to the northern extremity of the lake, 93. His surly and
  drunken conduct, 97. Starts on the voyage, 98. His covetousness, 109.
  His extravagance, 120. His drunkenness and fate, 156.

  Kanoni, sultan of the Wahha tribe, ii. 79.

  Kanoni, minor chief of Wafanya, visit from, ii. 107. His blackmail,
  107. Outrage committed by his people, 124.

  Kanyenye, country of, described, i. 265. Blackmail at, 265. Sultan
  Magomba of, 265.

  Kaole, settlement of, described, i. 12, 13. The landing place of the
  expedition, 22.

  Karagwah, kingdom of, ii. 177. Extent of, 177. Boundaries of, 178.
  Climate of, 180. People of, 181. Dress of, 182. Weapons of, 182.
  Houses of, 182. Sultan of, 183. Government of, 183.

  Karagwah, mountains of, ii. 48, 144, 177.

  Kariba, river, ii. 146.

  Karindira, river, ii. 146.

  Karungu, province of, ii. 149.

  Kasangare, a Mvinza sultan, his subjects, i. 328.

  Kaskazi, or N. E. monsoon, i. 83.

  Kata, or sand-grouse, at Ziwa, i. 251.

  Katata, or Katanga, copper in, ii. 148.

  Katonga, river, ii. 187.

  Kawele, principal village of Ujiji, ii. 53. Attacked by the Watuta
  tribe, ii. 76. Return of the expedition to, 126.

  Kaya, or fenced hamlets, i. 407.

  Kazeh, arrival at, i. 321, 322. Abdullah bin Salih’s caravan plundered
  at, 321. Hospitality of the Arabs there, 323. Revisited, ii. 167.

  Kazembe, sultan of Usenda, ii. 148. Account of him, 148.

  Khalfan bin Muallim Salim, commands an up caravan, i. 179. His caravan
  attacked by small-pox, 179, 201. His falsehoods, 179. Spreads
  malevolent reports at Ugogo, 262.

  Khalfan bin Khamis, his penny wise economy, i. 288. Bids adieu to the
  caravan, 291. Overtaken half-way to Unyanyembe, 221. His civility at
  Msene, 399.

  Khambi, or substantial kraals, of the wayside described, i. 53, 134.

  Khamisi, Muinyi, and the lost furniture, ii. 168.

  K’hok’ho, in Ugogo, dangers of, i. 272, 274. Its tyrant sultan, 274.
  Insect annoyances at, 276.

  Khudabakhsh, the Baloch, sketch of him, i. 138. His threats to murder
  the author, 174. His illness in the Windy Pass, 214. His conduct at
  Wafanya, ii. 110. Reaches Kawele by land, 111.

  K’hutu, expedition enters the country of, i. 86. Irrigation in, 86.
  Hideous and grotesque vegetation of, 91. Climate of, 92. Salt-pits of,
  92. Country of, described, 119. Roads in, 335. Return to, ii. 264.
  Desolation of, 264.

  K’hutu, river i. 86.

  Kibaiba river, ii. 146.

  Kibuga, in Uganda, distance from the Kitangure river to, ii. 186. Road
  to, 186, 187. Described, 188.

  Kibuya, sultan of Mdabura, blackmail of, i. 279. Description of him,
  279.

  Kichyoma-chyoma, “the little irons,” Captain Speke afflicted with,
  ii. 234. The disease described, 320.

  Kidogo, Muinyi, sketch of him, i. 140. His hatred of Said bin Salim,
  164. His advice to the party at Marenga Mk’hali, 203. His words of
  wisdom on the road to Ugogo, 250. His management, 254. His quarrel
  with Said bin Salim, 255. Makes oath at Kanyenye, that the white man
  would not smite the land, 267. Loses his heart to a slave girl, 314.
  His demands at Kazeh, 377. Dismissed at Sorora, 402. Flogs Sangora,
  403. Sent home, ii. 277.

  Kidunda, or the “little hill,” camping ground of, i. 79. Scenery of,
  79.

  Kifukuru, delay of the caravan at, i. 264. Question of blackmail at,
  264. Sultan of, 264.

  Kigari, on the Tanganyika Lake, halt of the party at, ii. 101.

  Kigwa, or Mkigwa, halt of the caravan at, i. 319. The ill-omened
  forest of, 319. Sultan Manwa, 319.

  Kikoboga, basin of, traversed, ii. 262.

  Kikoboga river, ii. 263.

  Kilwa, dangers of, as an ingress point, i. 4, 5.

  Kimanu, the sultan of Ubena, ii. 270.

  Kinanda, or harp, of East Africa, ii. 298.

  Kinawani, village of, arrival of the caravan at, ii. 35.

  Kindunda, “the hillock,” i. 64.

  Kinganguku, march to, ii. 251.

  Kingani river described, i. 56. Valley of the, 56. Hippopotami and
  crocodiles of the, 56. Fish of the, 56. Its malarious plain, 69. Rise
  of the, 87.

  Kingfishers on the lake of Tanganyika, ii. 61.

  Kipango, or tzetze fly, of East Africa, i. 187.

  Kiperepeta, march to, ii. 256.

  Kiranga-Ranga, the first dangerous station in Uzaramo, i. 59.

  Kirangozi, guide or guardian, carried by mothers in Uzaramo, i. 116.

  Kirangozi, or guide of the caravan, his wrath, i. 221. Description of
  one, 346. Meeting of two, 351. His treatment of his slave girl,
  ii. 161. His fear of travelling northward, 172.

  Kiringawana mountains, i. 233.

  Kiringawana route in the Usagara mountains described, ii. 249.

  Kiringawana, sultan, ii. 258.

  Kirira, halt of the party at, i. 392. Hospitality of an Arab merchant
  at, 392-394. Climate of, 394.

  Kiruru, or “palm leaves,” village of, i. 82.

  Kirurumo, on the Mgunda Mk’hali, i. 289. Water obtained at, 289.

  Kisanga, basin of, described, ii. 257.

  Kisabengo, the chief headman of Inland Magogoni, i. 88. Account of his
  depredations, 88.

  Kisawahili language, remarks on the, i. 15, _note_; ii. 198.

  Kisesa, sultan, his blackmail, ii. 114.

  Kitambi, sultan of Uyuwwi, recovers part of the stolen papers, i. 320.

  Kitangure, or river of Karagwah, i. 409; ii. 144, 177, 186.

  Kiti, or stool, of East Africa, i. 373.

  Kittara, in Kingoro, road to, ii. 187. Wild coffee of, 187.

  Kivira river, ii. 197.

  Kiyombo, sultan of Urawwa, ii. 147.

  Kizaya, the P’hazi, i. 54. Accompanies the expedition a part of their
  way, 55.

  Knobkerries of Africa, ii. 306.

  Kombe la Simba, the P’hazi, i. 54.

  Konduchi, march to, ii. 274. Revisited, 276.

  Koodoo, the, at Dut’humi, i. 87.

  Koodoo horn, the bugle of East Africa, i. 203.

  Kraals of thorn, in the Usagara mountains, i. 230. Of East Africa,
  354.

  Krapf, Dr., result of his mission, i. 6. His information, 7. His
  etymological errors, 36, _note_.

  Kuhonga, or blackmail, at Ugogo, i. 252. Account of the blackmail of
  East Africa, 253.

  Kuingani, “the cocoa-nut plantation near the sea,” i. 42. Described,
  43. Houses of, 43. Climate of, 44.

  Kumbeni, isles of, i. 1.

  Kuryamavenge river, ii. 146.

  Kwale, halt at the nullah of, i. 315.

  Kwihanga, village of, described, i. 396.


  Ladha Damha, pushes the expedition forward, i. 11. His conversation
  with Ramji, 23.

  Lakes,--Nyanza, or Ukerewe, i. 311, 409, ii. 175, 176, 179, 195.
  Tanganyika, ii. 42, _et seq._; 134, _et seq._ Mukiziwa, ii. 147.

  Lakit, Arab law of, i. 258.

  Lamp-bath of Central Asia, i. 82.

  Land-crabs in the Doab of the Mgeta river, i. 81.

  Language of the Wagogo, i. 306. Of the Wahumba, 311. Of the
  Wanyamwezi, ii. 5. Of the Wakimbu, 20. Of the Wanyamwezi, 30.
  Specimens of the various dialects collected, 198. Of the East
  Africans, 336.

  Leeches in Unyamwezi, ii. 18.

  Leopards in Ugogo, i. 302. In Unyamwezi, ii. 15.

  Leucæthiops amongst the Wazaramo, i. 109.

  Libellulæ in Unyamwezi, ii. 18.

  Lions in Uzaramo, i. 63. Signs of, on the road, 172. In Ugogo, 300,
  301. In Unyamwezi, ii. 15.

  Lizards in the houses in East Africa, i. 371.

  Locusts, or nzige, flights of, in Unyamwezi, ii. 18. Varieties of, 18.
  Some considered edible, 18.

  Lodgings on the march in East Africa, i. 353. In Ugogo, 354. In
  Unyamwezi, 354. In Uvinza, 354. At Ujiji, 351.

  Looms in Unyamwezi, i. 318; ii. 1.

  Lues in East Africa, ii. 321.

  Lunar Mountains, ii. 48, 144.

  Lurinda, chief of Gungu, ii. 53. Supplies a boat on the Tanganyika
  lake, 87. Enters into brotherhood with Said bin Salim, ii. 125.

  Lying, habit of, of the African, ii. 328.


  Mabruki, Muinyi, henchman in the expedition, sketch of the character
  of, i. 130. His slave boy, ii. 162. His bad behaviour, 173.

  Mabruki Pass, descent of the, ii. 263.

  Mabunguru fiumara, i. 283. Shell-fish and Silurus of the, 284. Arrival
  of the party at the, 285.

  Macaulay, Lord, quoted, i. 393.

  Machunda, chief sultan of Ukerewe, ii. 214.

  Madege Madogo, the “little birds,” district of, i. 79.

  Madege Mkuba, “the great birds,” district of, i. 79.

  Magic, black, or Ucháwi, how punished by the Wazaramo, i. 113, 265.
  Mode of proceeding for ascertaining the existence of, ii. 32. _See_
  Mganga.

  Magogoni, inland, country of, i. 87.

  Magomba, sultan of Kanyenye, i. 265. Blackmail levied by, 265.
  Interview with him and his court, 266. Description of him, 266.

  Magugi, in Karagwah, ii. 177.

  Maizan, M., his death, i. 6. Sketch of his career, 73.

  Maji m’ote, or “hot water” ant, of East Africa, i. 187.

  Maji ya W’heta, or jetting water, the thermal spring of, i. 159.
  Return to, ii. 264.

  Majid, Sayyid, sultan of Zanzibar, i. 2. Gives letters of introduction
  to the author, 3.

  Makata tank, i. 181. Forded by the expedition, 181. Return to, ii.
  262.

  Makata plain, march over the, ii. 261.

  Makimoni, on the Tanganyika lake, ii. 126.

  Makutaniro, adventures at, i. 69.

  Malagarazi river, i. 334, 337. ii. 36, 39, 47, 49. First sighted by
  the party, 407. Described, 408, 409. Courses of the, 409. Crossed,
  410. Return of the party to the, 164.

  Mallok, the Jemadar, sketch of his character and personal appearance,
  i. 133. His desertion, and return, 173. Becomes troublesome, 381, 382.
  His refusal to go northwards, ii. 172. Influence of bakhshish, 172.
  Sent home, ii. 277.

  Mamaletua, on the Tanganyika lake, halt of the party at, ii. 115.
  Civility of the people of, 115.

  M’ana Miaha, sultan of K’hok’ho, i. 272. Description of him, 274.
  His extortionate blackmail, 274.

  Mananzi, or pine-apple, of East Africa, i. 66.

  Manda, the petty chief at Dut’humi, i. 89. Expedition sent against
  him, 89.

  Mandama, or Dungomaro, river, arrival of the caravan at the, i. 222.
  Description of the bed of the, 223.

  Mangrove forest on the east coast of Africa, i. 9. Of the Uzaramo, 62.

  Manners and customs of the Wamrima, i. 35, 37. Of the Wasawahili, 37.
  Of the Wazaramo, 108 _et seq._ Of the Wak’hutu, 120. Of the Wadoe,
  124. Of the Wasagara, 235. Of the Wagogo, 309, 310. Of the Wahumba,
  312. Of the Wanyamwesi, ii. 23. Of the Wambozwa, 152.

  Mansanza, sultan of Msene, i. 396. His hospital, 396. His firm rule,
  396. His wives, 396, 399. His visits to the author, 399.

  Manufactures of Msene, i. 398.

  Manyora, fiumara of, i. 80.

  Manwa, Sultan of Kigwa, his murders and robberies, i. 319. His
  adviser, Mansur, 319.

  Maraim, Abd, or Washhenzi, the, i. 30.

  Mariki, sultan of Uyonwa, ii. 78.

  Marema, sultan, at the Ziwa, i. 254.

  Marenga Mk’hali, or “brackish water,” river, i. 200, 201, 259. Climate
  of, 203. Upper, water of the, 247, 271.

  Maroro, basin of, its fertility, ii. 254. The place described, 255.

  Maroro river, i. 231.

  Marriage amongst the Wazaramo, i. 118. In Unyamwezi, ii. 24. In East
  Africa generally, 332.

  Marsh fever, i. 82, 84. Delirium of, 84.

  Martins in the Rufuta plains, i. 183. In Unyamwezi, ii. 17.

  “Marts,” custom of, in South Africa, ii. 54.

  Marungu, land of, ii. 149. Provinces of, 149. Roads in, 149.
  Description of the country, 150. History of an Arab caravan in, 151.
  People of, 152.

  Maruta, sultan of Uvira, ii. 116. Visit from his sons, 117.
  Description of them, 117. His blackmail, 120.

  Masenza, arrival of the party at the village of, i. 406, 407.

  Masika, or rainy season, in the second region, i. 231, 232. Of East
  Africa, 378.

  Mason-wasps of the houses in East Africa, i. 370.

  Masud ibn Musallam el Wardi, sent to Msimbira to recover the stolen
  papers, i. 325. His hospitality, 392.

  Masui, village of, ii. 229, 231.

  Masury, M. Sam., his kindness to the author, i. 22.

  Mat-weaving in East Africa, ii. 316.

  Maunga Tafuna, province of, ii. 153.

  Maura, or Maula, a sultan of the Wanyamwezi, i. 316. Visits the
  caravan, 316. His hospitality, 316. Description of him, 316.

  Mauta, Wady el, or Valley of Death, i. 69.

  Mawa, or plantain wine, ii. 180, 197. Mode of making, 287.

  Mawiti, colony of Arabs at, i. 326.

  Mazinga, or cannons, bee-hives so called in the interior, i. 200.
  Described, 200.

  Mazita, account of, ii. 212.

  Mazungera, P’hazi of Dege la Mhora, i. 75. Murders his guest, M.
  Maizan, 75, 76. Haunted by the P’hepo, or spirit of his guest, 76.

  Mbarika tree, or Palma Christi, of East Africa, i. 48.

  Mbega, or tippet-monkey, in Unyamwezi, ii. 15.

  Mb’hali, village of, described, i. 401.

  Mbembu, a kind of medlar, in Ugogo, i. 300.

  Mbogo, or Bos Caffer, in the plains of East Africa, i. 181. Described,
  181. In Ugogo, 300. On the Rusugi river, ii. 40.

  Mboni, son of Ramji, carries off a slave girl, i. 290.

  Mbono tree of East Africa, i. 48.

  Mbugani, “in the wild,” settlement of, described, i. 397.

  Mbugu, or tree-bark, used for clothing in Ujiji, ii. 64. Mode of
  preparing it, 64.

  Mbumi, the deserted village, i. 185.

  Mbungo-bungo tree, a kind of nux vomica, i. 48.

  Mbuyu, or calabash tree, of East Africa, described, i. 47.

  Mchikichi tree of Ujiji, ii. 58.

  Mdaburu, trying march in the jungle of, i. 277, 278. Description of,
  279.

  Mdimu nullah, i. 88.

  Meals at Ujiji, ii. 89. In East Africa, 280, 334.

  Measures of length in East Africa, ii. 388.

  Medicine chest required for the expedition, i. 155.

  Melancholy, inexplicable, of travellers in tropical countries,
  ii. 130.

  Metrongoma, a wild fruit of Yombo, i. 387.

  Mfu’uni, hill of, i. 170. Its former importance, 171.

  Mfuto mountains, i. 326.

  Mfuto, clearing of, i. 389.

  Mganga, or medicine-man of East Africa, described, i. 38. His modus
  operandi, 44; ii. 358. His office as a priest, 350. As a physician,
  352. As a detector of sorcery, 356. As a rain-maker, 357. As a
  prophet, 358. His minor duties, 359.

  Mganga, or witch of East Africa, i. 380.

  Mgazi river, i. 86.

  Mgege fish of the Tanganyika Lake, ii. 67.

  Mgeta river, the, i. 80, 159, 160, 166; ii. 268. Head of the, 80.
  Mode of crossing the swollen river, 80. Pestilence of the banks of
  the, i. 127. Fords of the, i. 336; ii. 268.

  Mgongo T’hembo, the Elephant’s Back, arrival of the caravan at,
  i. 290. Description of, 290. Inhabitants of, 290.

  Mgude, or Mparamusi, tree, described, i. 47, 60, 83.

  Mgute fish of the Tanganyika Lake, ii. 67.

  Mgunda Mk’hali, or “the Fiery Field,” i. 281. Description of, 281,
  282. Stunted vegetation of, 282. Geology of, 282. Scarcity of water
  in, 283. Traversed by the caravan, 283. Features of the, 283, 292.

  Miasma of Sorora and Kajjanjeri, i. 403.

  Mikiziwa Lake, in Uguhha, ii. 147.

  Milk of cows in Ujiji, ii. 60. As food in East Africa, 283.
  Preparations of, 283.

  Millepedes, or jongo, in Unyamwezi, ii. 18.

  Mimosa trees, i. 83. Flowers of the, in Usagara, 228. Trees in
  Usagara, 229. In Unyamwezi, 318. Of the Usagara mountains, 165.

  Miyandozi, sultan of Kifukaru, i. 264. Levies blackmail on the
  caravan, 264.

  Mji Mpia, “new town,” settlement of, described, i. 397. Bazar of, 397.

  Mkora tree, uses of the wood of the, i. 374.

  Mkorongo tree, uses of the, in East Africa, i. 374.

  Mkuba, or wild edible plum of Yombo, i. 387.

  Mkuyu, or sycamore tree, its magnificence in East Africa, i. 195. Its
  two varieties, 195, 196.

  Mkwaju la Mouani, the “Tamarind in the rains,” the village of,
  described, i. 52.

  Mninga tree, wood of the, i. 373. Use of the wood, 373.

  Mnya Mtaza, headman of Ukaranga, ii. 45.

  Mohammed bin Khamis, sailing-master of the Artemise, i. 8.

  Mohammed, the Baloch, the Rish Safid, or greybeard, sketch of him,
  i. 134. At Kazeh, 381.

  Molongwe river, ii. 146.

  Money in East Africa, ii. 388.

  Mombas Mission, the, i. 6, 7.

  Mongo Nullah, the, i. 289. Water obtained at the, 289.

  Mongoose, the, at Dut’humi, i. 87.

  Monkeys of Muhinyera, i. 64. Of Usagara mountains, 162. In Unyamwezi,
  ii. 15.

  Monkey-bread, ii. 221.

  Monsoon, the N. E., or Kaskazi, of East Africa, i. 83, 102. In
  Unyamwezi, ii. 9. Origin of the S. W. monsoon, 50. Failure of the
  opportunity for comparing the hygrometry of the African and Indian
  monsoons, 93.

  Moon, Land of the. _See_ Unyamwezi.

  Moon, her splendour at the equator, i. 162. Halo or corona round the,
  in Unyamwezi, ii. 11, 12.

  Morality, deficiency of, of the East Africans, ii. 335.

  Morus alba, the, in Uzaramo, i. 60.

  Mosquitoes of East Africa described, i. 182. On the Ruche river,
  ii. 52, 158.

  Mouma islands, ii. 153.

  Moumo tree (Borassus flabelliformis), of East Africa, i. 47, 180.
  Toddy drawn from, 181.

  Mountains:--
    Dut’humi, i. 65, 83, 86, 119.
    Jiwe la Mkoa, i. 286, 287, 295.
    Karagwah, ii. 48, 144, 177.
    Kilima Ngao, ii. 179.
    Kiringawana, i. 233.
    Lunar, ii. 144, 178.
    Mfuto, i. 326.
    Mukondokwa, i. 180, 185, 194, 203, 233.
    Ngu, or Nguru, i. 87, 125, 225.
    Njesa, i. 226.
    Rubeho, i. 203, 211, 214, 218, 245.
    Rufuta, i. 167, 170, 180.
    Uhha, ii. 160.
    Urundi, i, 409; ii. 48.
    Usagara, i. 101, 119, 159, 160, 215, 219, 225, 297.
    Wahumba, i. 295.
    Wigo, i. 159.

  Mountains, none in Unyamwezi, ii. 6.

  Mpagamo of Kigandu, defeated by Msimbira, i. 327.

  Mparamusi, or Mgude, tree, i. 47, 60, 83.

  Mpete, on the Malagarazi river, i. 410.

  Mpingu tree, i. 373. Uses of the wood of the, 373.

  Mporota, a den of thieves, halt at, ii. 252.

  Mrima, or “hill-land,” of the East African coast, described, i. 8, 30.
  Inhabitants of, 30. Their mode of life, 35. Mode of doing business in,
  39. Vegetation of the, 47. Geography of the, 100. Climate of the, 102,
  104. Diseases of the, 105. Roads of the, 105, 106. Ethnology of the,
  106.

  Mororwa, sultan of Wilyankuru, i. 391.

  Msandarusi, or copal-tree, of Uzaramo, i. 63.

  Msene, settlement of, arrival of the party at, i. 395. Description of,
  395, 396. Sultan Masawza of, 396. Prices at, 397. Productions of, 397,
  398. Currency of, 398. Industry of, 398. Habits of the people of, 398.
  Climate of, 399.

  Msimbira, sultan of the Wasukuma, i. 319. Papers of the party stolen
  and carried to him, 320. Refuses to restore them, 320. Send a party to
  cut off the road, 321. Defeats Sultan Mpagamo, 327.

  Msopora, Sultan, restores the stolen goods, ii. 166.

  Msufi, a silk-cotton tree, in Uzaramo, i. 60.

  Msukulio tree of Uzaramo, i. 61, 83.

  Mtanda, date of the establishment of the kingdom of, ii. 5.

  Mtego, or elephant traps, i. 287. Disappearance of the Jemadar in one,
  288.

  Mt’hipit’hipi, or Abras precatorius, seeds of, used as an ornament,
  ii. 181.

  Mtogwe tree, a variety of Nux vomica, i. 48. In Unyamwezi, 318, 401.

  Mtumbara, Sultan, and his quarrel, ii. 157.

  Mtunguja tree of the Mrima, i. 48.

  Mtungulu apples in Ugogo, i. 300.

  Mtuwwa, in Ubwari island, halt of the party at, ii. 114. Blackmail at,
  112.

  Mud-fish, African mode of catching, i. 315.

  Mud-fish in the Gombe nullah, i. 334.

  Mud, Yegea, i. 83.

  Muhama, halt at the nullah of, i. 176, 178.

  Muhinna bin Sulayman of Kazeh, his arrival at Kawele, ii. 133. His
  extortion, 133.

  Muhinna bin Sulayman, the Arab merchant of Kazeh, i. 323.

  Muhiyy-el-Din, Shafehi Hazi of Zanzibar, i. 7.

  Muhiyy-el-Din, Kazi, of the Wasawahili, i. 33.

  Muhonge, settlement of, described, i. 63.

  Muhonyera, district of, described, i. 63. Wild animals, 63.

  Mui’ Gumbi, Sultan of the Warori, ii. 271. Defeated by Sultan Ironga,
  75. Description of him, 271.

  Muikamba, on the Tanganyika Lake, night spent at, ii. 115.

  Muingwira river, ii. 211.

  Muinyi Wazira, engaged to travel with the expedition, i. 52. Sketch of
  his character, 129. Requests to be allowed to depart, 314. His
  debauch and dismissal, 399. Reappears at Kazeh, ii. 168. Ejected, 168.

  Muinyi, halt of the party at, i. 193. Determined attitude of the
  people of, 194.

  Muinyi Chandi, passed through, i. 390.

  Mukondokwa mountains, i. 180, 185, 196, 197, 203, 233. Bleak raw air
  of the, 197.

  Mukondokwa river, i. 88, 181, 188, 192, 311. Ford of, 188. Valley of
  the, 192.

  Mukozimo district, arrival of the party at the, i. 407. Inhospitality
  of the chiefs of, 407.

  Mukunguru, or seasoning fever, of Unyamwezi, ii. 14.

  Mulberry, the whitish-green, of Uzaramo, i. 60.

  Murchison, Sir R., his triumphant geological hypothesis, i. 409. His
  notice respecting the interior of Africa, 409, _note_.

  Murunguru river, ii. 154.

  Murivumba, tents of the party pitched at, ii. 114. Cannibal
  inhabitants of, 114.

  Murundusi, march to, ii. 250.

  Musa, the assistant Rish Safid of the party, sketch of him, i. 138.

  Musa Mzuri, handsome Moses, of Kazeh, i. 323. His return to Kazeh,
  ii. 223. His history, 223. His hospitality, 226. Visits the expedition
  at Masui, 231. His kindness, 231.

  Music and musical instruments in East Africa, described, ii. 291, 338.
  Of the Wajiji, 98.

  Mutware, or Mutwale, the Lord of the Ferry of the Malagarazi river,
  i. 409.

  Muzungu, or white man, dangers of accompanying a, in Africa, i. 10,
  11.

  Muzunga Mbaya, the wicked white man, the plague of the party, ii. 239.
  His civility near home, 240. Sketch of his personal appearance, and
  specimen of his conversation, 244.

  Mvirama, a Mzaramo chief, demands rice, i. 80.

  Mviraru, a Wazaramo chief, bars the road, i. 58.

  Mvoro fish in the Tanganyika Lake, ii. 67.

  Mvule trees used for making canoes, ii. 147.

  Mwami, or wild coffee of Karagwah, ii. 180, 181, 187.

  Mwimbe, or mangrove trees, of the coast of East Africa, i. 9. Those of
  Uzaramo, 62.

  Mwimbi, bad camping ground of, ii. 262.

  Mwongo fruit tree, in Mb’hali, i. 401.

  Mgombi river, i. 183.

  Myombo tree of East Africa described, i. 184. Of Usagara, 229.

  Mzimu, or Fetiss hut, of the Wazaramo, described, i. 57. In Ubwari
  Island, halt at, ii. 113. Re-visited, 121.

  Mziga Mdogo, or “The Little Tamarind,” arrival of the party at,
  i. 161.

  Mziga-ziga, a mode of carrying goods, i. 341.

  Mzogera, Sultan of Uvinza, i. 408. His power, 408. Settlement of
  blackmail with envoys of, 408.


  Names given to children by the Wazaramo, i. 116.

  Nakl, or first stage of departure, i. 43.

  Nar, Beni, “sons of fire,” the English so called in Africa, i. 31.

  Nautch at Kuingani described, i. 45.

  Ndabi tree, i. 196. Fruit of the, 196.

  Ndabi, halt of the caravan at, i. 196.

  Navigation of the Tanganyika Lake, antiquity of the mode of, ii. 96.

  Necklaces of shells worn in Ujiji, ii. 65.

  Nge, or scorpions, of East Africa, i. 370.

  Ngole, or Dendraspis, at Dut’humi, i. 87.

  Night in the Usagara mountains, i. 162. In the caravan, described,
  359.

  Nile, White, Ptolemy’s notion of the origin of the, ii. 178. Captain
  Speke’s supposed discovery of the sources of the, 204.

  Njasa, Sultan of the Wasagara, his visit to the expedition, i. 199.
  Description of him, 199. Makes “sare” or brotherhood with Said bin
  Salim, 199.

  Njesa mountains, i. 226.

  Njugu ya Nyassa, the Arachis Hypogæa, as an article of food, i. 198.

  Northern kingdoms of Africa. _See_ Karagwah, Uganda, and Unyoro.

  Nose pincers of the Wajiji tribe, ii. 65.

  Nullahs, or watercourses of East Africa, i. 102.

  Nutmeg, wild, of Usui, ii. 176.

  Nyakahanga, in Karagwah, ii. 177.

  Nyanza, or Ukerewe, Lake, i. 311, 439; ii. 175, 176, 179. Chances of
  exploration of the, 195. Geography of the, 206, 210, _et seq._ Size of
  the, 212. Position of the, 211. Commerce of the, 215. Savage races of
  the, 215. Reasons why it is not the head stream of the White Nile,
  218. Tribes dwelling near the, 219.

  Nyara, or Chamærops humilis, of the Mrima, i. 48.

  Nyasanga, fishing village on the Tanganyika lake, ii. 101.

  Nzasa, halt at the, i. 54.

  Nzige, or locusts, flights of, in Unyamwezi, ii. 18. Varieties of, 18.


  Oars not used on the Tanganyika Lake, ii. 96.

  Ocelot, the, of Ugogi, i. 242.

  Oil, common kind of, in East Africa, ii. 285. Various kinds of, 285.

  Olive-tree unknown in East Africa, ii. 285.

  Olympus, the Æthiopian, ii. 179.

  Onions cultivated in Unyamwezi, i. 330.

  Ophthalmia, several of the party suffer from, in Unyamwezi, i. 406.

  Ophidia in Unyamwezi, ii. 17.

  Ordeal for witchcraft, ii. 357. Amongst the Wazaramo, i. 114.

  Ornaments worn by the Wazaramo, i. 110. By the Wak’hutu, 120. Fondness
  of the Africans for, 147, 148, 150. Of the Wasagara tribe, 199, 237.
  Of the Wagogo, 305. Of the Wahumba, 312. Of the porters of caravans,
  349. Of sultans in East Africa, 396. Of the Wakimba, ii. 20. Of the
  Wanyamwezi, 22. Of the Wabuha, 78. Of the Wabwari islanders, 113. Of
  the people of Karagwah, 181.

  Ostriches in Ugogo, i. 301. Value of feathers in East Africa, i. 301.

  Outfit of the expedition, articles required for the, i. 151.

  Oxen of Ujiji, ii. 59.


  Paddles used on the Tanganyika lake, ii. 96. Described, 96.

  Palm, Syphæna, i. 82, 83.

  Palma Christi, or Mbarika, of East Africa, i. 48.

  Palm-oil, or mawezi, of the shores of the Lake Tanganyika, ii. 58.
  Mode of extracting it, 58, 59. Price at the lake, 59. Uses to which it
  is applied, 59. Trade in, at Wafanya, 107.

  Palmyra tree (Borassus flabelliformis), in the plains, i. 180. Toddy
  drawn from, 181. At Yambo, 387. And at Mb’hali, 401. Tapped for toddy
  at Msene, 398.

  Pangani river, ii. 179.

  Papazi, pest of, in East Africa, i. 371.

  Papilionaceæ in Unyamwezi, ii. 18.

  Panda, village of, i. 403.

  Pano, village of, i. 389.

  Parugerero, district of, in Unyamwezi, ii. 37. Salt manufacture of,
  37.

  Partridges in the Doab of the Mgeta river i. 81.

  Pazi bug, the, of East Africa, i. 371.

  Peewit, the, in the Rufuta plains, i. 183.

  Phantasmata in East Africa, ii. 352.

  P’hazi, or headmen of the Wazaramo, i. 54, 113. Of the Wak’hutu, 121.

  P’hepo, ghost or devil, African belief in, i. 88; ii. 352. Exorcism,
  352.

  Phlebotomy in East Africa, ii. 322.

  Pig-nuts of East Africa, i. 198.

  Pillaw in Africa, i. 393. How to boil rice, 393.

  Pine-apple, or Mananzi, of East Africa, i. 66.

  Pipes in East Africa, ii. 315.

  Pismires, chungo-fundo or siyafu, of the banks of the rivers in East
  Africa, described, i. 186. Its enemy, the maji m’oto, 187.

  Pismires black, annoyance of, at K’hok’ho, i. 276.

  Plantain wine of Karagwah, ii. 180. And of Uganda, 197. Mode of making
  it, 287.

  Plantains near the Unguwwe river, ii. 41. Of Ujiji, 58. The staff of
  life in many places, 58. Luxuriance of it, 58. Varieties, 58. Of
  Uganda, 196.

  Playfair, Captain R. L., his “History of Arabia Felix” quoted, i. 68,
  _note_.

  Plum, wild, of Yombo, i. 387.

  Plundering expeditions of the Wazaramo, i. 112.

  Poisons used for arrows in Africa, ii. 301.

  Polygamy amongst the Wanyamwezi, ii. 24.

  Pombe beer, of East Africa, i. 95, 116, 333; ii. 180, 285. Universal
  use of, i. 309; ii. 29. Mode of making it, 286.

  Porcupines in K’hutu, i. 160.

  Porridge of the East Africans, i. 35.

  Porridge flour, of the Wanyamwezi, ii. 29.

  Porters, or Pagazi, the Wanyamwezi, of the expedition, i. 143.
  Character of East African, 144. In East Africa, 337. Variations of
  porterage, 339. Great weight carried sometimes by, 341. Their
  discontent, 343. Desertion of in Wilyankuru, 391. Description of those
  hired in Ujiji, ii. 157. Of the Warori, 271.

  Pottery, art of, in East Africa, ii. 313.

  Prices at Msene, i. 397. In the market at Unyanyembe, 333. In Ujiji,
  ii. 72. At Wafanya, 107. At Uvira, 120, 121.

  Proverbs, Arab, i. 50, 86, 130, 133, 135, 382.

  ---- African, i. 31.

  ---- Moslem, ii. 131.

  ---- Persian, ii. 237.

  ---- Sanscrit, i. 133.

  ---- Wanyamwezi, i. 338.

  Pumpkins, junsal or boga, grown at Marenga Mk’hali, i. 201.

  Punishments in Uganda, ii. 192.

  Punishments in East Africa, ii. 364.

  Punneeria coagulans of the Mrima, i. 48.


  Quaggas in Unyamwezi, ii. 15.


  Races of the Northern Kingdoms of Africa, ii. 174, 175.

  Rahmat, the Baloch, i. 46.

  Rain at Zungomero, i. 156. Autumnal, at Muhama, 179. In the Usagara
  mountains, 218, 231, 232. In Ugogo, 298. The Masika or wet season,
  378. In Unyamwezi, ii. 8-10. In the valley of the Malagarazi river,
  49. In Karagwah, 180.

  Rainbow, fog, in the Usagara mountains, i. 222.

  Ramji, the Banyan of Cutch, engaged to accompany the expedition,
  i. 10. His commercial speculation, 20. His conversation with Ladha
  Damha, 23. Visits the author at Kuingani, 43. Account of him, 43, 44.
  His advice, 45.

  Ramji, “sons” of, sketch of them, i. 140. Their ever-increasing
  baggage, 182. Their quarrels with the Baloch soldiers, 163. Their
  insolence, 164. Reappear at Kazeh, ii. 168. Allowed to take the places
  of porters, 227. Return home, ii. 277.

  Ranæ of Unyamwezi, ii. 17. Of the Tanganyika Lake, ii. 61.

  Rats, field, i. 160. On the banks of the Mukondokwa river, 193. House
  rats of Ujiji, ii. 60.

  Ravens of the Usagara mountains, i. 162.

  Religion of the Wazaramo, i. 115. Of the East Africans, _ib._; ii.
  341. An African’s notion of God, 348 _note_.

  Reptiles in Unyamwezi, ii. 17.

  Respect, tokens of, amongst the Wajiji, ii. 69.

  Revenge of the African, ii. 329.

  Revenue, sources of, in East Africa, ii. 365.

  Rhinoceroses at Dut’humi, i. 87. On the road to Ugogo, 247. On the
  Mgunda Mk’hali, 289. In Ugogo, 300. In Unyamwezi, ii. 15. The
  Rhinoceros horn trade of East Africa, 413.

  Rice, how to cook, i. 393. Red, density and rapidity of growth of, at
  Msene, 397. Luxuriance of, in Ujiji, ii. 57. Allowed to degenerate,
  57. Unknown in Karagwah, 180.

  Ricinæ of East Africa, i. 371.

  Rigby, Captain, at Zanzibar, ii. 382.

  Rivers:--
    Dungomaro, or Mandama, i. 222.
    Gama, i. 123.
    Kariba, ii. 146.
    Karindire, ii. 146.
    Katonga, ii. 187.
    K’hutu, i. 86.
    Kibaiba, ii. 146.
    Kingani, i. 56, 69, 87, 101, 123, 231.
    Kikoboga, ii. 263.
    Kitangure, or Karagwah, i. 409; ii. 144, 177, 186.
    Kuryamavenge, ii. 146.
    Malagarazi, i. 334, 337, 407, 408; ii. 36, 39, 47, 49, 164.
    Mandama, or Dungomero, 222.
    Marenga Mk’hali, i. 200, 201.
    Marenga Mk’hali, upper, i. 247.
    Maroro, i. 231.
    Molongwe, ii. 146.
    Mgazi, i. 86.
    Mgeta, i. 80, 86, 87, 88, 101, 119, 127, 159, 160, 336; ii. 264,
    268, 274.
    Muingwira, ii. 187.
    Mukondokwa, i. 88, 181, 188, 192, 216, 311.
    Myombo, i. 181.
    Mwega, ii. 256.
    Pangani, i. 125; ii. 179.
    Ruche, ii. 46, 52, 157, 158.
    Rufiji, or Rwaha, i. 30, 101, 119, 216, 220, 225, 231; ii. 257, 270,
    379.
    Rufuta, i. 167.
    Ruguvu, or Luguvu, ii. 40, 52.
    Rumangwa, ii. 149, 153.
    Rumuma, i. 197.
    Rusizi, or Lusizi, ii. 117, 146.
    Rusugi, ii. 37, 161.
    Rwaha, or Rufiti, i. 216, 220, 225, 231, 295; ii. 8.
    Tumbiri of Dr. Krapf, ii. 217.
    Unguwwe, or Uvungwe, ii. 40, 52.
    Yovu, ii. 257, 258.
    Zohnwe, i. 127.

  Riza, the Baloch, sketch of him, i. 139.

  Roads in the maritime region of East Africa described, i. 105, 106. In
  the Usagara Mountains, 230. From Ugogo to Unyamwezi, 281. In Ugogo,
  302. In Unyanyembe, 325. Description of the roads in East Africa, 335.
  In Unyamwezi, ii. 19. From the Malagarazi Ferry, 51.

  Rubeho Mountains, i. 233, 211, 245.

  Rubeho, or “Windy Pass,” painful ascent of the, i. 213. Scenery from
  the summit, 214. Village of Wasagara at the summit, 218.

  Rubeho, the Great, halt at the, i. 215. Dangerous illness of Capt.
  Speke at, 215. His restoration, 215.

  Rubeho, the Little, ascent of the, i. 215. Fight between the porters
  and the four Wak’hutu, 216.

  Rubeho, the Third, halt of the caravan at, i. 221.

  Rubuga, arrival of the caravan at, i. 315. Visit from Abdullah bin
  Jumah and his flying caravan, 315. Flood at, 317.

  Ruche river, ii. 52. Mouth of the, 46, 157.

  Rudi, march to, ii. 251.

  Rufiji river, the, i. 30, 216, 220, 225, 231; ii. 257, 379. Races on
  the, i. 30.

  Rufita Pass in Umgara, ii. 259.

  Rufuta fiumara, the, i. 167.

  Ruguvu, or Luguvu, river, ii. 40, 52. Fords of the, i. 336.

  Ruhembe rivulet, the, ii. 261. Halt in the basin of the, 261.

  Ruhembe, Sultan, slain by the Watuta, ii. 76.

  Rukunda, or Lukunda, night spent at, i. 407.

  Rumanika of Karagwah, his rebellion and defeat, ii. 183. Besieges his
  brother, 224.

  Rumuma river, described, i. 197.

  Rumuma, halt of the caravan at, i. 198. Abundance of its supplies,
  198. Visit from the Sultan Njasa at, 199. Climate of, 199.

  Rusimba, Sultan of Ujiji, ii. 70.

  Rusizi river, ii. 117, 146.

  Rusugi river, described, ii. 37. Forded, 37.

  Ruwere, chief of Jambeho, levies “dash” on the party, ii. 36.

  Rwaha river, i. 295, 216, 220, 225, 231; ii. 257.


  Sage, in Usagara, i. 228.

  Sangale fish in the Tanganyika Lake, ii. 67.

  Said, Sayyid, Sultan of Zanzibar, the “Imaum of Muscat,” i. 2. His
  sons, 2.

  Salim bin Rashid, the Arab merchant, calls on Captain Burton, ii. 228.

  Said bin Salim, appointed Ras Kafilah, or caravan guide, to the
  expedition, i. 9, 10. Attacked by fever, 71. His terror of the
  Wazaramo, 73. His generosity through fear, 90. His character, 129.
  His hatred of the Baloch, 163. His covetousness, 163, 164. Insolence
  of his slaves, 164. His dispute with Kidogo, 255. His fears, and
  neglect at Ugogo, 280. His inhospitality, 287. His change of
  behaviour, 382. His punishment, 384. His selfishness, 391. His fears,
  ii. 125. Enters into brotherhood with Lurinda, 125. And afterwards
  with Kannena, 126. His carelessness of the supplies, 127. His
  impertinence, 159, 160. His attempts to thwart the expedition, 172.
  Pitches tents outside Kazeh, 227. Moves to the village of Masui, 229.
  Dismissed from his stewardship, 237. His news from Zanzibar, 261. His
  terror in Uzaramo, 275. Leaves for home, 277. Visits the author at
  Zanzibar, 382.

  Said bin Ali el Hinawi, the Arab merchant of Kazeh, i. 323.

  Said bin Majid, the Arab merchant of Kazeh, i. 323. Return of the
  expedition with his caravan, ii. 157. Separation from him, 165.
  Treatment of his people at Ujiji, 84.

  Said bin Mohammed of Mbuamaji, and his caravan i. 257. Account of him
  and his family, 258.

  Said bin Mohammed, Sultan of Irora, i. 389. His surliness, 389.
  Brought to his senses, 389, 390.

  Salim bin Said, the Arab merchant in Wilyankuru, i. 391. His
  hospitality, 391.

  Salim bin Masud, the Arab merchant, murdered, i. 328, 391.

  Sanscrit proverb, i. 133.

  Salt, demand for, in Ujiji, ii. 82. Scarcity of, at Wafanya, 108.
  Stock laid in, ii. 161.

  Salt-pits of K’hutu, i. 92.

  Salt-trade of Parugerero, ii. 37. Quality of the salt, 37.

  Salsaparilla vine of Uzaramo, i. 60.

  Sare, or brother oath, of the Wazaramo, i. 114. Mode of performing the
  ceremony, 114. Ceremony of, performed between Sultan Njasa and Said
  bin Salim, i. 199.

  Sawahil, or “the shores,” geographical position of the, i. 29, 30.
  People of, described, 30.

  Sayf bin Salim, the Arab merchant, account of, i. 83. Returns to
  Dut’humi, 128. His covetousness, 128. Crushes a servile rebellion,
  125.

  Scorpions of East Africa, i. 370. In the houses in Ujiji, ii. 61.

  Seasons, aspect of the, in Ugogo, i. 298. Eight in Zanzibar, ii. 8.
  Two in Unyamwezi, 8.

  Seedy Mubarak Bombay, gun-carrier in the expedition, character of,
  i. 130, 279. His demand of bakhshish, ii. 173. His peculiarities, 236.
  Appointed steward, 237.

  Σεληνης ορος of the Greeks, locality of the, ii. 4.

  Servile war in East Africa, i. 125.

  Shahdad, the Baloch, sketch of him, i. 135. Left behind at Kazeh, 381.

  Sharm, or shame, Oriental, i. 23.

  Sheep of Ujiji, ii. 59.

  Shehe, son of Ramji, appointed Kirangozi, ii. 232. Dismissed, 238.

  Shields of the Wasagara tribe, i. 238. Unknown to the Wagogo, 304.
  Carried by the Wahumba, 312. In Unyamwezi, ii. 23.

  Shoes required for the expedition, i. 154.

  Shoka, or battle-axes of the East Africans, ii. 307.

  Shukkah, or loin cloth, of East Africa, i. 149. Of the Wasagara, 235.
  Materials of which it is made, 236.

  Siki, or vinegar of East Africa, ii. 288.

  Sikujui, the lady, added to the caravan, i. 210. Description of her,
  210, 221.

  Silurus, the, of the Mabunguru fiumara, i. 284.

  Sime, or double-edged knives, of the Wasagara, i. 240. Of the Wagogo,
  306. Of the Wanyamwezi, ii. 22. Of East Africa generally, 307.

  Singa fish of the Tanganyika Lake, ii. 68.

  Siroccos at Ugogo, i. 260.

  Siyafu, or black pismires, annoyances of, at K’hok’ho, i. 276.

  Skeletons on the road side, i. 165, 168.

  Skin, colour of the, of the Wazaramo, i. 108. Of the Wak’hutu, 120. Of
  the Wadoe, 124. Of the Wagogo, 304. Sebaceous odour of the, of the
  Wazaramo, 309. Of the Wanyamwezi, ii. 20. Warundi, 145. Karagwah
  people, 181. Skin diseases of East Africa, 320.

  Slave caravans of East Africa, i. 17. At Tumba Ihere, 62. At Zanzibar,
  50.

  Slaves and slavery: kidnapping in Inland Magogoni, i. 88. In Dat’humi,
  89. Slavery in K’hutu, 97, 98, 121. Kidnappings of the Wazegura, 125.
  Pitiable scene presented by a village after a commando, 185. In Ugogo,
  309. In Unyamwezi, ii. 23. Of Ujiji, 61, 71. Prices of slaves in, 62,
  71. Prices of Wahha slaves at Msene, 79. Not trustworthy in Africa,
  111. Their modes of murdering their patrons, 111. Prices of, in Uvira,
  121. In Karagwah, 184. In Ubena, 270. Degrading effects of the slave
  trade, 340, 366. Origin of the slave trade of East Africa, 366.
  Treatment of slaves, 367, 369. Two kinds of slave trade, 368.
  Kidnapping, 369. Character of slaves, 371. Revenge of slaves, 374,
  375. Female slaves, 375. Prices of slaves, 375. Number of slaves
  imported yearly into Zanzibar, 377. Ease with which the slave-trade at
  Zanzibar could be abolished, 377.

  Small-pox in the Usagara mountains, i. 166. And in the up caravans,
  179. The porters of the party attacked by, 180, 184, 190. In Khalfan’s
  caravan, 201. In the caravans in East Africa, 342. In East Africa
  generally, ii. 318.

  Smoking parties of women at Yombo, i. 388.

  Snay bin Amir, the Arab merchant of Kazeh, i. 323. Performs the guest
  rites there, 323, 324. Sketch of his career, 324. His visit to the
  Sultan of Ugunda, ii. 193. His kindness, i. 384; ii. 231.

  Snakes at Unyamwezi, ii. 17. In the houses in Ujiji, 61.

  Snuff, Wajiji mode of taking, ii. 65.

  Soil, fertility of the, at Msene, i. 397. Character of the, in
  Unyamwezi, ii. 6. Wondrous fertility of the, in the valley of the
  Malagarazi river, 49. And of that of Ujiji, 57.

  Soma Giri, of the Hindus, locality of the, ii. 4.

  Songs of the porters of the caravan, ii. 361, 362. Of East Africa,
  ii. 291.

  Sorghum cultivated in Ujiji, ii. 57.

  Sorora, or Solola, in Unyamwezi, arrival of the party at, i. 401. Its
  deadly climate, 401.

  Speke, Capt., his illness in Uzaramo, i. 62, 65, 69. Shakes off his
  preliminary symptoms, 71. Lays the foundation of a fever, 82.
  Thoroughly prostrated, 84. Recovers his health at Mzizi Mdogo, 161.
  Again attacked at Muhama, 179. And by “liver” at Rumuma, 200.
  Dangerous illness at the Windy Pass, 214. Restored, 215. Unable to
  walk, 286. Awaits reserve supplies at Kazeh, 386. Rejoins the caravan,
  390. Tormented by ophthalmia, 406; ii. 86. Starts on an expedition to
  explore the northern extremity of the Tanganyika Lake, 87. Returns
  moist and mildewed, and nothing done, 90. His “Journal” in “Blackwood”
  referred to, 90. Quoted, 91 _note_. A beetle in his ear, 91 _note_.
  Joins the second expedition, 99. Improvement in his health, 129.
  Return journey, 157. His deafness and dimness of vision, 169. Leaves
  Kazeh for the north, 173. Returns, 204. His supposed discovery of the
  sources of the White Nile, 204. Taken ill at Hanga, 233. Convalescent,
  240. Sights the sea at Konduchi, 279. Returns home, 384.

  Spears and assegais of the Wasagara tribe, i. 237. Of the Wagogo, 306.
  Of the Wahumba, 311. Of the Wanyamwezi, ii. 22. Of East Africa
  generally, 301.

  Spiders of East Africa, i. 371. In the houses of Ujiji, ii. 61.

  Sport in East Africa, remarks on, i. 268.

  Spring, hot, of Maji ya W’heta, i. 159.

  Squirrels, red, in K’hutu, i. 160.

  Stars, their splendour at the equator, i. 163.

  Stares, category of in Africa, ii. 129.

  Stationery required for the expedition, i. 153.

  Steinhæuser, Dr., i. 25.

  Storm in Uzaramo, i. 69. Those of the rainy monsoon in Unyamwezi,
  ii. 9. On the Tanganyika Lake, description of a, 122.

  Succession and inheritance, in Unyamwezi, ii. 23.

  Sugar-cane, wild, or Gugu-mbua, i. 71. In Ujiji, ii. 58. Chewed, 288.

  Sugar made of granulated honey, i. 397.

  Suiya, antelope, i. 269.

  Sulphur in Karagwah, ii. 185.

  Sultans, burial-places of, in Unyamwezi, ii. 26. Power of the Sultan
  in this country, 31. And in East Africa generally, ii. 362.

  Sun, his splendour at the equator, i. 162. Ring-cloud tempering the
  rays of the, in Unyamwezi, ii. 11, 12.

  Suna, Sultan of Uganda, ii. 188. The Arabs’ description of him, 189.
  His hundred sons, 192. His chief officers, and mode of government,
  192. Account of a visit to him, 193.

  Sunset-hour on the Indian Ocean, i. 1. In the Land of the Moon, 387.
  In Unyamwezi, ii. 7. In Ujiji, 89. In East Africa generally, 289.

  Sunrise on the Tanganyika Lake, ii. 156.

  Superstitions of the Wamrima, i. 38. Of the Wagogoni, inland, 88. Of
  the Wazaramo, 112, 114, 115.

  Supplies, shortness of, ii. 130. Arrival of some, but inadequate for
  the purpose, 130.

  Surgery in East Africa, ii. 322.

  Suwarora, Sultan, his exorbitant black-mail, ii. 176.

  Swallows in Unyamwezi, ii. 17.

  Swords in East Africa, ii. 308.

  Sycomore tree of East Africa, the Mkuyu, its magnificence, i. 195. Its
  two varieties, 195, 196. Its magnificence in Usagara, 229.


  Tailoring in Africa, ii. 201.

  Tamarind trees of the Usagara Mountains, i. 165, 229. Modes of
  preparing the fruit, 165. At Mfuto, 389.

  Tanganyika Lake, first view of the, described, ii. 42, 43. A boat
  engaged on the, 45. Seen from Ujiji, 47. Hippopotami and crocodiles
  in, 60. People of the shores of, 62, _et seq._ Fishing in, 66.
  Varieties of fish in, 67. Failure of Captain Speke’s expedition for
  exploring the northern shores of, 90. Preparations for another cruise,
  93. Description of the boats of the lake, 94. Navigation of the, 94.
  Voyage up the, 99. Eastern shores of the, described, 100. Fishing
  villages, 100. Remarks on boating and voyaging on the lake, 101.
  Account of the island of Ubwari, 108. Visit to the island, 113.
  Further progress stopped, 117, 119. Storm on the lake, 122. History of
  the lake, ii. 134 _et seq._ Meaning of the name, 137. Extent and
  general direction of, 137. Altitude of, 139. Sweetness of its water,
  139. Its colour, 140. Its depth, 140. Its affluents, 140. Its coasts,
  141. No effluents, 141. Its temperature, 142. Its ebb and flow, 143.
  Physical and ethnological features of its periplus, 144. Sunrise
  scenery on the lake, 156.

  Targes of the East Africans described, ii. 307.

  Tattoo, not general amongst the Wazaramo, i. 108. Nor amongst the
  Wak’hutu, 120. Practised by the Wadoe, 124. Of the Wanyamwezi, ii. 21.
  Amongst the Wajiji, 63. Of the Warundi, 145.

  Teeth, chipped to points by the Wasagara tribe, i. 235.

  Tembe, the houses beyond Marenga Mk’hali so called, i. 207.
  Description of the Tembe of East Africa, 366.

  Tembo, or palm-toddy, a favourite inebrient in Ujiji, ii. 70.

  Tenga, in Karagwah, ii. 177.

  Tent-making in Africa, ii. 201.

  Termites of East Africa, i. 201, 202. In the houses of Ujiji, ii. 61.

  Tetemeka, or earthquakes in Unyamwezi, ii. 13.

  Thermometers in Africa, i. 169.

  Thiri, or Ut’hiri, district of, ii. 215.

  Thirst, impatience and selfishness of, of the Baloch guard, i. 205.
  African impatience of, 359; ii. 334.

  Thorns, nuisance of, on the road to Ugogo, i. 246.

  Thunder and lightning in Unyamwezi, ii. 9. In the Malagarazi valley,
  50. In Karagwah, 180.

  Timber of East Africa, ii. 415.

  Time, difficulty of keeping, by chronometers in East African travel,
  i. 189, 190. Second-hand watches to be preferred, 190.

  Tirikeza, or afternoon march of a caravan, i. 203, 221. Incidents of
  one, 204, 205.

  Tobacco, trade of, in East Africa, ii. 418.

  Tobacco, use of, in East Africa, i. 36. Smoked by women in Unyamwezi,
  388. Chewed by Unyamwezi, ii. 28. Tobacco of Uganda, 196. Tobacco
  trade of East Africa, ii. 418.

  Tobacco-pipes of Eastern Africa, i. 388; ii. 315.

  Toddy obtained from the palmyra of Msene only, i. 398. Extracted from
  the Guinea-palm in Ujiji, ii. 59. Prevalence of the use of, in Ujiji,
  59, 70. Of Zanzibar, 287.

  Togwa, a drink in Unyamwezi, i. 333. And in East Africa generally,
  ii. 286.

  Tombs of the Wamrima and Wazaramo, i. 57.

  Tools required for the expedition, i. 153.

  Tramontana of the Rubeho, or Windy Pass, i. 214.

  Travellers in Africa, advice to, ii. 82. Melancholy of which
  travellers in tropical countries complain, 130.

  Travelling, characteristics of Arab, in Eastern Africa, ii. 157.
  Expense of travelling in East Africa, 229.

  Trees in East Africa. _See_ Vegetation.

  Tree-bark used for clothing in Ujiji, ii. 64. Mode of preparing it,
  64.

  Trove, treasure, Arab care of, i. 258.

  Tumba Ihere, the P’hazi, i. 54. His station, 62. Slave caravans at,
  62. Accompanies the expedition, 62, 65.

  Tumbiri river of Dr. Krapf, ii. 217.

  Tunda, “the fruit,” malaria of the place, i. 71.

  Tura, arrival of the caravan at the nullah of, i. 291. And at the
  village of, 292. Astonishment of the inhabitants, 292. Description of,
  313. Return to, ii. 241.

  Turmeric at Muinyi Chandi, i. 390.

  Twanigana, elected Kirangozi, ii. 239. His conversation, 243.

  Twins amongst the Wazaramo, i. 116. Treatment of, in Unyamwezi,
  ii. 23.

  Tzetze, a stinging jungle fly, i. 187. At K’hok’ho, 276. On the
  Mgunda Mk’hali, 289.


  Ubena, land of, described, ii. 269. People of, 270. Commerce and
  currency of, 270.

  Ubeyya, province of, ii. 153.

  Ubwari, island of, ii. 108. De Barros’ account of, quoted, 108. Size
  and position of, 108. The expedition sails for, 112. Inhabitants of,
  113. Halt at, 114. Portuguese accounts of, 135.

  Uchawi, or black magic, how punished by the Wazaramo, i. 113.
  Described, 265. Not generally believed in Ugogo, 307. Mode of
  proceeding in cases of, ii. 32. Belief of the East Africans generally
  in, 347. Office of the mganga, 356.

  Ufipa, district of, on the Tanganyika Lake, i. 153. Its fertility,
  135. People of, 153.

  Ufyoma, a province of Unyamwezi, ii. 6.

  Ugaga, delay at the village of, i. 408, 410.

  Ugali, or flour porridge, the common food of East Africa, i. 35. Of
  the Wanyamwezi, ii. 29.

  Uganda, road to, ii. 187. Sultan of, and his government, 188.

  Uganza, arrival of the caravan at, i. 407.

  Ugogi, halt of the party at, i. 241. Abundance of provisions at, 241.
  Geography of, 242. People of, 242. Animals of, 242. Pleasant position
  of, 243. Its healthiness, 243.

  Ugogo, first view of, from the Usagara mountains, i. 220. The plains
  of, reached by the caravan, 223. Scenery on the road near, 245.
  Blackmail at, 252. Entrance into, 259. Description of the surrounding
  country, 259. The calabash tree at, 260. Siroccos at, 260. Reception
  of the caravan at, 261. Incidents of the march through, 261-280. Roads
  from Ugogo to Unyamwezi, 281. Geography of Ugogo, 294. Boundaries of,
  294. No rivers in, 295. Igneous formation of, 295. Houses of, 296.
  Subsoil of, 296. Climate of, 297. Diseases of, 299. Vegetation of,
  299, 300. Animals of, 300. Roads of, 302. Description of the tribes
  of, 303. Lodging for caravans in, 354. Return through, ii. 246.

  Ugoyye, district of, in Ujiji, ii. 53.

  Uhha, land of, now a desert, ii. 53. Laid waste by the Watuta tribe,
  76, 78.

  Uhehe, march through, ii. 250. People of, 251.

  Ujiji, Sea of. _See_ Tanganyika, Lake of.

  Ujiji, town of, lodgings for caravans in, i. 354. Arrival of the party
  at the, ii. 46. Scene there, 47. Climate of, 50, 51. Boundaries of,
  53. Villages and districts of, 53. Camping ground of caravans near,
  54. Distance of Ujiji from the coast, and number of stages, 55.
  History of the country, 56. Trade of, 57. Fertility of the soil of,
  57. Bazar of, 59. Fauna of, 60. Slave trade of, 61. Principal tribes
  in, 62. Inconveniences of a halt at, and of a return journey from, 74.
  Mode of spending the day at, 87.

  Ukami, depopulation of, i. 88.

  Ukaranga, or “land of ground-nuts,” on the Tanganyika Lake, arrival
  at, ii. 44. Boundaries of, 52. Wretched villages of, 52. Apathy of the
  people, 52. Etymology of the name, 52.

  Ukerewe, ii. 212. Account of, 212, 213. People of, 212. Commerce of,
  213.

  Ukhindu, or brab-tree, i. 48.

  Ukona, reached by the caravan, i. 318.

  Ukungwe, village of, i. 403.

  Ukungwe, islands of, ii. 151.

  Umbilical region, protrusion of the, in the children of the Wazaramo,
  ii. 117.

  Unguwwe, or Uvungwe, river, ii. 40, 52. Forded, 40.

  Unyanguruwwe, settlement of, i. 408.

  Unyangwira, a province of Unyamwezi, ii. 6.

  Unyanyembe district, rice lands of the, i. 321. Aspect of the land,
  321. Description of it, 325; ii. 5. Roads in, i. 325. Its physical
  features, 326. Its villages, 326. History of the Arab settlements in,
  327. Food in, 329, 331-334. Prices in, 333.

  Unyamwezi, or the Land of the Moon, i. 313. Arrival of the caravan in
  the, 314. Lodgings for caravans in, 354. Geography of, ii. 1.
  Boundaries and extent of, 2. Altitude of, 2. The country as known to
  the Portuguese, 2. Corruptions of the name, 2, 3. Etymology of the
  word, 3, 4. Barbarous traditions of its having been a great empire, 4.
  Portuguese accounts of its former greatness, 5. Its present political
  condition, 5. Its dialects, 5. Provinces into which it is divided, 5.
  General appearance of the country, 6. Its geology, 6. Peaceful rural
  beauty of the country, 7. Water and rice fields, 7. Versant of
  Unyamwezi, 8. Its two seasons, 8. Its rainy monsoon, 8-10. The hot
  season, 11. Diseases of the country, 11, 13, 14. Whirlwinds and
  earthquakes, 11, 13. Curious effects of the climate, 14. Fauna of
  Unyamwezi, 15. Roads in, 19. Notice of the races of, 19.

  Unyoro, dependent, ii. 187.

  Unyoro, independent, land of, ii. 197. People of, 197.

  Urundi, mountains of, i. 409; ii. 48. Arrival of the expedition in the
  region of, 101. People of, 107, 117. Description of the kingdom of,
  144. Governments of, 145. People of, 145. Route to, 169.

  Uruwwa, the present terminus of trade, ii. 147. People of, 147. Prices
  at, 147.

  Usagara mountains, i. 87, 159, 215, 297, 335. Ascent of the, 160. Halt
  in the, 161. Healthiness of the, 161. Vegetation of the, 162, 165.
  Water in the, 218. Descent of the counterslope of the, 219. View from
  the, 220. Geography of the, 225, _et seq._ Geology of the, 227. Fruits
  and flowers of the, 228. Magnificent trees of the, 129. Water-channels
  and cultivation of the ground in the, 229. Village of the, 229.
  Supplies of food in the, 229. Roads of the, 230. Water for drinking in
  the, 230. Climate of the, 231. Diseases of the, 233. The tribes
  inhabiting the, 233.

  Usagozi, a province of Unyamwezi, ii. 6. March to, i. 405. Insolence
  of the men of, 405. Description of the town of, and country around,
  405. Sultan and people of, 406.

  Usek’he, in Ugogo, i. 272.

  Usenda, capital of the Sultan Kazembe, ii. 148. Trade of Usenda, 148.

  Usenge, arrival of the party at the clearing of, i. 407.

  Usoga, Land of, ii. 197. People of, 197.

  Usui, road and route from Unyanyembe to, ii. 175. Description of, 176.
  People of, 176.

  Usukama, a province of Unyamwezi, ii. 5.

  Usumbwa, a province of Unyamwezi, ii. 6.

  Utakama, a province of Unyamwezi, ii. 5.

  Utambara, near Marungu, district of, ii. 151.

  Ut’hongwe, country of, ii. 52.

  Utumbara, a province of Unyamwezi, ii. 6, 176. People of, 176.

  Uvinza, lodgings for caravans in, i. 354. Geography of, ii. 1, 48. The
  two seasons of, 8.

  Uvira, southern frontier of, reached by the expedition, ii. 115, 116.
  Sultan of, 116. Blackmail at, 120. Commerce of, 120.

  Uyanzi, land of, description of the, i. 279.

  Uyonwa, principal village of Uvinza, ii. 78. Sultan Mariki of, 78.
  Tents pitched at, 161.

  Uyuwwi, Kitambi, sultan of, i. 320.

  Uzaramo, the first district of, i. 54. Fertility of, 60. Wild animals
  of, 63. Storm in, 60. Boundaries of the territory of, 107. Roads in,
  335. Art of narcotising fish in, ii. 67. Re-entered, 275.

  Uzige, land of, described, ii. 146. People of, 146. Rivers of, 146.

  Uziraha, plain of, ii. 263.

  Uzungu, or White Land, African curiosity respecting, i. 261.


  Valentine, the Goanese servant, sketch of his character, i. 131. Taken
  ill, i. 200, 379; ii. 169. Cured by the tinctura Warburgii, 169. His
  reception by the Wagogo, 263. Sent to learn cooking, 384. Suffers from
  ophthalmia, 406. Mortally wounds a Wayfanya, ii. 124.

  Vegetables in East Africa, i. 201; ii. 283.

  Vegetation of--
    Bomani, road to, i. 47.
    Dut’humi, i. 87.
    Eastern Africa generally, i. 228.
    Karagwah, ii. 180.
    Katonga river, ii. 187.
    K’hutu, i. 91.
    Kingani river, valley of the, i. 56, 69.
    Kiranga-Ranga, i. 60.
    Kirira, i. 395.
    Kiruru, i. 83.
    Kuingani, i. 43.
    Makata tank, i. 181.
    Mgeta river, i. 166.
    Mgunda Mk’hali, i. 282.
    Mrima, the, i. 101, 103, 104.
    Msene, i. 397, _note_.
    Muhogwe, i. 63.
    Mukondokwa mountains, i. 195.
    Murundusi, ii. 250.
    Rufuta fiumara, i. 168.
    ---- plains, i. 180.
    Tanganyika Lake shores, ii. 141.
    The road beyond Marenga Mk’hali, i. 205.
    The road to Ugogo, i. 246.
    Tumba Ihere, i. 62.
    Ugogo, i. 275, 299, 300.
    Ugoma, ii. 147.
    Ujiji, ii. 57.
    Unguwwe river, ii. 40.
    Unyamwezi, ii. 6.
    Usagara mountains, i. 162, 165, 220.
    Uvinza in June, ii. 163.
    Yombo, i. 387.
    Zungomero, i. 95.

  Veneration, African want of, ii. 336.

  Village life in East Africa, described, ii. 278.

  Villages of the Mrima, i. 102. Of the Wak’hutu, 121. A deserted
  village described, 185. Villages of the Usagara mountains, 229. Of the
  Wahehe, 240. Of East Africa generally, 364, _et seq._ In Unyamwezi,
  ii. 7. Of Ukaranga, 52.

  Vinegar of East Africa, ii. 288.

  Voandzeia subterranea, a kind of vetch, i. 196, 198.


  Wabembe tribe, their cannibal practices, ii. 114, 146.

  Wabena tribes, i. 304. Described by the Arab merchants, ii. 270.

  Wabha tribe, their habitat, ii. 78. Their chief village, 78. Their
  personal appearance and dress, 78. Their arms, 78. Their women, 78.

  Wabisa tribe, habitat of the, ii. 150. Their dress, 150. Their manners
  and customs, 150.

  Wabwari, or people of Ubwari island, described, ii. 113. Women of the,
  113.

  Wadoe tribe, their habitat, i. 123. Their history, 123. Their
  cannibalism, 123. Their distinctive marks, 124. Their arms, 124. Their
  customs, 124. Subdivisions of the tribe, 124.

  Wafanya, halt at the village of, ii. 106. Visit from the chief of,
  107. Blackmail at, 107. Climate of, 107. Prices at, 107.

  Wafipa tribe, habitat of the, ii. 153. Their personal appearance, 153.

  Wafyoma race, described, ii. 176.

  Waganda races, described, ii. 196. Their language, 196. Their dress,
  196.

  Waganga, or priests, of Urundi, their savage appearance, ii. 145.
  _See_ Mganga.

  Wagara, or Wagala, tribe, i. 407.

  Wagogo, their astonishment at the white man, i. 263. Habitat of the,
  303, 304. Extent of the country of the, 304. Complexion of the, 304.
  The ear-ornaments of the, 304. Distinctive mark of the, 304. Modes of
  wearing the hair, 304. Women of the, 305. Dress of the, 305. Ornaments
  of the, 305. Arms of the, 306. Villages of the, 306. Language of the,
  306. Their dislike of the Wanyamwezi, 307. Their strength of numbers,
  307. Not much addicted to black magic, 307. Their commerce, 308. Their
  greediness, 308. Their thievish propensities, 309. Their idleness and
  debauchery, 309. Their ill manners, 309. Their rude hospitality, 310.
  Authority of the Sultan of Ugogo, 310. Food in, 310, 311.

  Wagoma tribe, their habitat, ii. 147.

  Waguhha tribe, habitat of the, ii. 147. Lake in their country, 147.
  Roads, 147.

  Wahayya tribe, the, ii. 187.

  Wahehe tribe, their habitat, i. 239. Their thievish propensities, 239.
  Their distension of their ear-lobes, 239. Distinctive marks of the
  tribe, 239. Their dress, 239. Their arms, 240. Their villages, flocks,
  and herds, 240.

  Wahha tribe, their country laid waste, ii. 76, 78. Their present
  habitat, 79. Wahha slaves, 79.

  Wahinda tribe, account of the, ii. 219. Their habitat, 219. Their
  dress, 220. Their manners and customs, 220.

  Wahuma class of Karagwah, described, ii. 181, 182.

  Wahumba tribe, the bandit, i. 203. Haunts of the, seen in the
  distance, 205.

  Wahumba, or Wamasai, tribe, ii. 215. Attack the villages of Inenge,
  i. 213. Haunts of, 259. Slavery among the, 309. Dialect of the, 311.
  Habitat of the, 311. Seldom visited by travellers, 311. Complexion of
  the, 311. Dress, manners, and customs of the, 312. Dwellings of the,
  312. Arms of the, 312.

  Wahumba Hills, i. 295, 297.

  Wajiji tribe, the, described, ii. 62. Rudeness and violence of, 62,
  68. Diseases of, 63. Practice of tattooing amongst, 63. Ornaments and
  dress of, 63, 64. Cosmetics of, 63. Mode of taking snuff of, 65.
  Fishermen of the lake of Tanganyika, 66. Ceremoniousness of the
  Wajiji, 69. Absence of family affection amongst them, 69. Their habits
  of intoxication, 69. Power and rights of their sultan, 70. Their
  government, 71. Their commerce, 71. Prices in Ujiji, 72. Currency in,
  73. Musical instruments of the Wajiji, 98. Inquisitive wonder of the
  people, 128. Category of stares, 128.

  Wakaguru tribe, villages of the, i. 168.

  Wakalaganza tribe, the, i. 406. Dress of the, 406.

  Wakamba, the, a sub-tribe of the Wazaramo, i. 108.

  Wakarenga tribe, wretched villages of the, ii. 52. Their want of
  energy and civilisation, 52, 74, 75.

  Wakatete tribe, habitat of the, ii. 149.

  Wakimbu race, account of the, ii. 19. Villages of the, 19. Dress and
  characteristic marks of the, 20. Arms of the, 20. Ornaments of the,
  20. Language of the, 20.

  Wakumbaku tribe, country of the, i. 88.

  Wak’hutu race, the, described, i. 97. The ivory touters of, 97. Their
  territory, 119. Their physical and mental qualities, 120. Their dress,
  120. Their drunkenness, 120. Their food, 120. Their government, 121.
  Their dwellings, 121.

  Wakwafi tribe, slavery among the, i. 309. Their untameable character,
  309.

  Wall point, i. 8.

  Wamasai tribe, slavery among the, i. 309.

  Wambele, Chomwi la Mtu Mku, or Headman Great Man of Precedence,
  i. 156.

  Wambozwa tribe, habitat of the, ii. 149. Their government, 152. Their
  personal appearance, 152. Their manners and customs, 152.

  Wamrima, or “people of the Mrima,” described, i. 16, 30, 32. Their
  chomwi, or headmen, 16. Their dress, 33. Their women, 34. Their mode
  of life, 35. Their national characteristics, 36. Their habits and
  customs, 37. Their tombs, 57. Wamrima caravans, description of, 344.
  Hospitality of the people, 353.

  Wanguru porters, desertion of the, i. 52.

  Wanyambo, the poor class of Karagwah, described, ii. 182.

  Wanyamwezi porters of the expedition, i. 143. Account of the
  Wanyamwezi tribe, ii. 20. Colour of the skin of the, 20. Effluvium
  from their skins, 20. Mode of dressing the hair, 20. Elongation of the
  mammæ of the women, 21. Mark of the tribe, 21. Dress of the, 21.
  Ornaments of the, 22. Arms of the, 22. Manners and customs of the, 23.
  Ceremonies of childbirth, 23. Of marriage, 24. Funerals, 25. Houses of
  the Wanyamwezi, 24. Iwanza, or public-house of the, 27. Food of the
  people, 28. Their commercial industry, 29. Their language, 30.
  Cultivation of the ground, 30, 31. Slavery amongst them, 31, 33.
  Government of the people, 31. Notice of Sultan Fundikira, 31, 32.
  Desertion of the porters, in Ugogo, 277. Their fear of the Wagogo,
  307. Greeting of porters of the, on the road, 291.

  Wanyika, halt of the party at the settlement of, i. 407. Blackmail at,
  407.

  Wanyora race described, ii. 197.

  Wap’hangara, the, a subtribe of the Wazaramo, i. 108.

  Wapoka, country of the, ii. 153.

  Warburg’s tincture, an invaluable medicine, ii. 169.

  Warori, their meeting with the caravan, ii. 251. The tribe described,
  272. Their raids, 272, 273. Their personal appearance, 273. Dress and
  weapons, 273. Their food and habitations, 273.

  Warufiji, or people of the Rufiji river, i. 30.

  Warudi tribe, ii. 215, 219.

  Warugaru tribe, country of the, i. 88. Their language, 89.

  Warundi tribe, noise and insolence of the, ii. 107. Their
  inhospitality, 108, 117. Their habitat, 144. Their mode of government,
  145. Their complexion, 145. Their personal appearance, 145. Their
  dress, arms, and ornaments, 145. Their women, 146.

  Wasagara tribe, thievish propensities of the, i. 229. Villages of the,
  168. Those of Rumuma described, 198. Their ornaments and arms, 199.
  Village of, on the summit of Rubeho, 218. Villages of, on the slopes,
  221. Their habitat, 234. Colour of their skins, 234. Modes of wearing
  the hair, 234. Distension of the ear-lobe, 235. Distinctive marks of
  the tribe, 235. Dress of the, 235. Arms of the, 237. Government of
  the, 238. Houses of the, 366.

  Wasawahili, or people of the Sawahil, described, i. 30. National
  characteristics of the, 36. Their habits and customs, 37. Caravans of,
  344.

  Wasenze tribe, their habitat, ii. 147.

  Washaki tribe, the, ii. 215, 219.

  Washenzi, or barbarians from the interior, i. 18. Curiosity of, 394.

  Washenzi, “the conquered,” or Ahl Maraim, the, i. 30.

  Wasps, mason, of the houses in East Africa, i. 370.

  Wasui tribe, described, ii. 176.

  Wasukuma tribe, their thievery, i. 319. Punishment of some of them,
  320, 321. Their sultan, Msimbira, 319-321.

  Wasumbwa tribe, in Msene, i. 395.

  Wasuop’hángá tribe, country of the, i. 88.

  Watatura tribes, i. 304; ii. 215, 220. Their habitat, 220. Recent
  history of them, 220, 221.

  Watches, a few second-hand, the best things for keeping time in East
  African travel, i. 190.

  Water-courses, or nullahs, of East Africa, i. 102. In the Usagara
  mountains, 229, 230.

  Water, in the Mrima, i. 102. In the Usagara mountains, 218. Scarcity
  of, near Marenga Mk’hali, 203. Impatience and selfishness of thirst of
  the Baloch guard, 205. In the Usagara mountains, 230. On the road to
  Ugogo, 247. Permission required for drawing, 252. Scarcity of, at
  Kanyenye, 265. Inhospitality of the people there, respecting, 267.
  Scarcity of, in Mgunda Mk’hali, 282. At the Jiwe la Mkoa, 287. At
  Kirurumo, 289. At Jiweni, 289. On the march of the caravan, 359. In
  Unyamwezi, ii. 7. Of the Tanganyika Lake, its sweetness, 139. Want of,
  on the return journey, 239.

  Water-melons at Marenga Mk’hali, i. 201. Cultivation of, 201.

  Wat’hembe tribe, the, ii. 154.

  Wat’hembwe tribe, habitat of the, ii. 149.

  Wat’hongwe tribe, country of the, ii. 154.

  Wat’hongwe Kapana, Sultan, ii. 154.

  Watosi tribe in Msene, i. 396. Their present habitat, ii. 185. Account
  of them and their manners and customs, 185.

  Watuta tribe, hills of the, i. 408. History of, ii. 75. Their present
  habitat, 76. Their wanderings and forays, 76, 77. Their women, 77.
  Their arms, 77. Their tactics, 77. Their fear of fire-arms, 77. Their
  hospitality and strange traits, 77. Their attack on the territory of
  Kannena, ii. 156.

  Wavinza tribe, i. 407. Personal appearance and character of the,
  ii. 75. Arms of the, 75. Inhospitality of the, 75. Drunkenness of the,
  75.

  Wavira tribe, civility of the, ii. 115.

  Wayfanya, return to, ii. 123. A slave mortally wounded at, 124.

  Wazaramo tribe, the, i. 19.

  Wazaramo, or Wazalamo, territory of the, i. 54. Visit from the P’hazi,
  or headmen, i. 54. Women’s dance of ceremony, 55. Tombs of the tribe,
  57. Stoppage of the guard of the expedition by the Wazaramo, 70.
  Ethnology of the race, 107. Their dialect, 107. Subtribes of, 108.
  Distinctive marks of the tribe, 108. Albinos of the, 109. Dress of
  the, 109. Ornaments and arms of the, 110. Houses of the, 110.
  Character of the, 112. Their government, 113. The Sare, or brother
  oath, of the, 114. Births and deaths, 118. Funeral ceremonies, 118,
  119. “Industry” of the tribe, 119.

  Wazegura tribe, i. 124. Their habitat, 125. Their arms, 125. Their
  kidnapping practices, 125. Their government, 125. Their character,
  126.

  Wazige tribe described, ii. 146.

  Waziraha, a subtribe of the Wak’hutu, i. 122. Described, 123.

  Weights and measures in Zanzibar, ii. 389, 391.

  Weapons in East Africa, ii. 300.

  Weaving in East Africa, ii. 309.

  White land, African curiosity respecting, i. 261.

  Whirlwinds in Unyamwezi, ii. 11, 13.

  Wife of Sultan Magomba, i. 266.

  Wigo hill, i. 93, 159.

  Wilyankuru, Eastern, passed through, i. 390.

  Winds in Unyamwezi, ii. 9, 10. In Central Africa, 50. Periodical of
  Lake Tanganyika, 143. In Karagwah, ii. 180.

  Windy Pass, or Pass of Rubeho, painful ascent of, i. 213. Village of
  Wasagara at, 218.

  Wine, plantain, of Karagwah, ii. 180. And of Uganda, 197.

  Wire, mode of carrying, in the expedition, i. 145. As an article of
  commerce, 146, 150.

  Witch, or mganga, of East Africa, i. 380.

  Witchcraft, belief in, in East Africa, ii. 347. Office of the mganga,
  356.

  Women in East Africa, ii. 298, 330, 332, 334.

  ---- of Karagwah, ii. 182.

  ---- of the Wabuha, ii. 78.

  ---- ---- Wagogo, i. 304, 305, 310.

  ---- ---- Wahehe, i. 239.

  ---- ---- Wajiji, ii. 62-64.

  ---- ---- Wak’hutu, i. 120.

  ---- ---- Wamrima, i. 16, 34.

  ---- ---- Wanyamwezi, i. 388, 396, 398; ii. 21, 23, 24.

  ---- ---- Warundi, ii. 146.

  ---- ---- Wasagara, i. 234, 236.

  ---- ---- Wataturu, ii. 221.

  ---- ---- Watuta, ii. 77.

  ---- ---- Wazaramo, i. 55, 61, 63, 110, 116, 118.

  ---- “Lulliloo” of the Wanyamwezi, i. 291.

  ---- physicians in East Africa, ii. 323.

  ---- Dance by themselves in East Africa, i. 361.

  ---- Handsome, at Yombo, i. 388.

  ---- Slave-girls of the coast Arabs on the march up country, i. 314.

  ---- The Iwanza, or public-houses of the women of Unyamwezi, ii. 27.

  ---- Of the Wabwari islanders, ii. 113.

  Wood-apples in Unyamwezi, i. 318.

  Woodward, Mr. S. P., his description of shells brought from Tanganyika
  Lake, ii. 102, _note_.


  Xylophagus, the, in East African houses, i. 370.


  Yegea mud, i. 83.

  Yombo, halt of the party at, i. 387. Description of, 387. The sunset
  hour at, 387. Return to, ii. 166.

  Yovu, river, ii. 257, 258. Forded, 258.

  Yovu, village of, described, i. 396.


  Zanzibar, view of, from the sea, i. 1. What the island is not, 2.
  Family, 2, 3. History of the word “Zanzibar,” 28. Its geographical
  position, 29. Weakness of the government of, in the interior of the
  continent, 98. The eight seasons of, ii. 8. Slave-trade of, 377.
  Troubles in, 380. General trade of, Appendix to vol. ii.

  Zawada, the lady, added to the caravan, i. 210. Her services to Capt.
  Speke, ii. 277.

  Zebras, in the Rufuta plains, i. 183. At Ziwa, 251. In Unyamwezi,
  ii. 15.

  Zemzemiyah of East Africa, ii. 239.

  Zeze, or guitar, of East Africa, ii. 291.

  Zik el nafas, or asthma, remedy in East Africa for, i. 96.

  Zimbili, halt of the caravan at, i. 386. Description of, 386.

  Ziwa, or the Pond, i. 244. Water obtained from the, 250. Description
  of the, 251. Troubles of the expedition at, 254.

  Zohnwe river, i. 172.

  Zohnwe settlement, i. 173. Adventures of the expedition at, 173.

  Zungomero, district of, described, i. 93. Commerce of, 95. Attractions
  of, 95. Food of, 95-97. Cause of the ivory touters of, 97. Halt of the
  expedition at, i. 127. Pestilence of, 127, 163. Fresh porters engaged
  at, 128. Life at, 156. Return to, ii. 264. Departure from, 276.


THE END.


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  Transcriber’s Notes


  Spelling variants, inconsistent, archaic and unusual spelling,
  hyphenation, capitalisation, use of accents, etc., also in proper and
  geographical names and in non-English words, have been retained,
  except as listed under Changes below. The names of peoples, tribes,
  other groups and localities in particular occur in different
  varieties, either accidentally or deliberately. Factual and textual
  errors, inconsistencies and contradictions have not been corrected or
  standardised.

  Depending on the hard- and software used to read this text, not all
  elements may display as intended.

  Index: the deviations from the alphabetical order of the main entries
  have not been corrected.


  Changes made:

  Page vii: Entry Map of the Routes added.

  Page 389: 2 Nusu = Dollar changed to 2 Nusu = 1 Dollar.

  Page430: Heading FIRST CORRESPONDENCE. inserted.